So tonight I went to the Renaissance Cafe for a dinner on my own. It was a combination of calming and lonely, but not lonely in a bad way. I had some loose leaf Earl Grey tea (which makes me incredibly happy, I might add) and a tuna melt and sat and wrote at a table for a while. I haven’t actually sat somewhere and written in my paper journal in what feels like years. It was good, but it ended up leaving me feeling a bit melancholy. I really am getting down on this whole job situation… I don’t quite understand why I don’t get called for the jobs I know I’m completely qualified for (not even overqualified, but just the right level even!) and every day I have to work at the theatre it gets more difficult to actually go in. It’s wearing me thin.
I think I’m anxious to move on now more than ever. Just in general – I have so much trouble with living right now, I keep wanting to be somewhere else, somewhere ahead of where I am. Or at least somewhere that I imagine is ahead… And of course I’m not there, so I’m always feeling like I’ve fallen behind or I’ll never catch up to where I think I should be. I’m still comparing myself to everyone I know. I’ve been trying not to, but the moment I stop concentrating on that effort is the moment those unbidden thoughts show up and I feel like I have to live up to some standard that’s only in my head. I set my standards for myself so high a god probably couldn’t live up to them. I’m completely unreasonable with myself. And if I’m not perfect at something on my first try I want more than anything to just give up. So completely unreasonable.
So yeah… I’m a bundle of self-destruction at the moment, and the only thing keeping me grounded is Adam. At this rate I’ll burn him out sooner than myself. I’m lucky to have him, but I’m afraid that if I can’t get over myself he won’t be able to deal with me anymore.
Wait. Get over myself is the wrong way to put it. That’s something else I’ve been doing way too much, putting everything about myself down. I don’t hate myself, and I have to stop thinking like I do because that’s probably the worst part of everything that’s wrong right now.
Moving won’t fix things. Getting a new job won’t fix things. I don’t think they’ll hurt, but they aren’t the solutions… I want a new job for different reasons than other times I’ve just hated a job for the sake of hating a job. This time I feel honestly justified, partly because I’m not the only one going crazy. I had come to terms with working at the theatre until moving, I was pretty much satisfied with the job even and looking forward to a summer with the same hours that Adam has so we can spend a lot of time out biking together and such. I was fine with it until everything went psychotic at work about a month back, and it hasn’t been getting better. I don’t think I can get back to that place of acceptance any more. Everything’s changed from there and I’m not wrong about this. Maybe things will change again and I’ll be able to handle the job again, but I don’t have high hopes of that happening.
I don’t even know what my point is.
I’m just emotionally exhausted.