Sigh. Again. Sigh.
I had the shittiest day yesterday, that I've had in a long, long time.
I am struggling. I just need to make that known. I am really struggling. It's the prioritizing thing, it's the time management thing, it's the getting sidetracked thing and this is just all fucked up.
The heat means I'm not sleeping and I go down fast when I don't get enough sleep.
So it's all of that warbled together.
There's also the thing that happens in every job I've been in. I can't take the fact that working 40 hours means I have so little time to do what I really want.
And let's talk about the box. Right. You grow up, you get a job, maybe you like the job, maybe you don't. You work 40 hours a week, you buy a house, you put yourself in debt, maybe you have student loans. You work your while life, most of it in debt, you try to save what you can for when you retire, and then fucking die.
Nice.
Yeah, you're supposed to somehow find the time to do some things you love.
Whatever.
Not all of us fit into that box and for someone like me, who had all this "mental shit" going on, it was torture. It's still torture. We are not built for the box and as much as I wish that the statement, it's all a state of mind were true, it's not.
People like me suffer.
So I have written well then get this party started, this Willow's Whimsy party started.
Yes, I want to, yes, I need to. But life happens and there are constant interruptions to that. And it's that, that I really struggle with knowing how to handle.
I'm part of that problem. I said I'd go to a Zoomba class with a friend tonight. I want to go but in the back of my head, there's that voice,"you have to much to do." I hate that voice. The meds I was on for anxiety did help with that somewhat.
But why do I say I will do these things when there are other priorities.
Look, I'm going to make the most of it.
I need to write quickly about what happened yesterday.
I went out for a smoke break. There's a bench out there and on the bench was an empty pack of smokes. I picked it up to throw it away and there was something in the box. A crack pipe. It was made from a weed pipe handle. I could see all the char and shit on it. I smelled it to make sure it wasn't weed. Oh no, it was crack.
Ok, so I wasn't triggered. But I know whose pipe this was and she needs to be gone, she needs to be out of there. I brought it in to give to my coworker, I thought maybe she could watch the cameras to confirm it was the person I think it was...but that guy I had the problems with, and who I still don't like, was in the office and he's trying to act all cool about it and he smells it and he's like, "yeah, that's weed." If it was weed, it would've stunk the whole office up. I just looked at him like the idiot he is and I said, "no, that's crack." And my coworker started joking, going, "do you smoke crack Denise, how do you know what crack smells like" and she kept going on about it. Now while that didn't trigger me in terms of wanting the stuff, it did trigger something because I froze and just stood there while she said this and I couldn't say anything. And then I just did said, "we'll talk later" because the idiot was still standing there.
There are people I know are in recovery where I work and so I went to one of them and lost it and she brought me up into her office and I was able to cry.
You all know, those of you who have been here through the years, that I used to almost brag about my addiction and oh, look at me, Miss Merry Recovery hardass. And then I'd start using and take all sorts of hostages with me. Drama.
I don't do drama anymore and yesterday was drama.
I did learn something though. Maybe I should've just left the fucking thing out there. Maybe I should've just picked it up and threw it away, maybe the Universe already has a plan for the person it belonged to. Maybe, if I pick something up ever again, I can take a moment before I turn it in...be prepared.
Anyways, my coworker did come find me and I just told her, "I've lived a life, it wasn't always good."
I'm not ashamed of where I've been because I'm proud and grateful about where I've gone to, where I am.
But people do make certain assumptions, there are plenty of stereotypes out there and I wasn't that. I never was. I hung out with that and I left that when I was done but I wasn't that.
And the fact that the idiot was there and now he knows, fuck that.
I'm still upset about it but I'm OK. I was received well by my coworker and she said, "I'm really sorry. I've done things too."
I just keep these things to myself now. It's not a game, it's no longer The Denise Show reruns.
And I was outed.
I didn't handle any of the situation well but like I said, I played out different scenarios and if you know, if this happens again, it happens again.
I'm going to be late for work today. I already decided that that's OK.
I'm so burnt out. I just want to sleep.
But I have to keep this up for about 4 more weeks and in just two weeks, I'll be able to have an A/C unit blaring so...
Ok, gotta go.
Just send me some happy words or thoughts if you would.
It's a bitch right now. It'll get better.
Be Blessed.
Love & Light,
Neecie
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