I think I'm going to take a blogging break because I am so entirely messed up right now, mentally, emotionally, every kind of -ally, and I don't feel like writing and having to pretend I don't feel like I do.
I need to find a new job and get away from this place. If anyone knows of anything, I'd be more than happy to look into it. I can't, in good conscience, work for people like this.
They have, unnecessarily and stupidly, laid off my best friend in the office. I now officially have no one I can talk to, no one I can trust, and no one to look forward to seeing on a daily basis. I get the impression NJ thinks he's going to step up and fill that space, but I've got some news: That space can not be filled. Period.
I can't stop thinking about what this is going to mean for his family. For his work in general. The upper management where I work are incompetent, and I don't care that I'm saying it. Fire me. Go ahead. I have a feeling you already know how I feel about you, so it's not like it's a secret.
I did everything humanly possible and in my power to help the job-losing not to take place, and it didn't work. I feel like I failed so completely and utterly, even though he told me it's better that he doesn't have to work here anymore, because something better is on the horizon. Or something. I can't help but think that something better on the horizon doesn't help buy food. Or pay rent. Or pay the heat bill. I can't help, and it makes me so devastatingly sad. I have cried more in the last 5 days that I have in a lot of my life. This in concordance with PMSing has effectively depleted my tear ducts. And yet, somehow, they're still functioning. Right now.
"But you tried," people say. "You did everything you could have done. It wasn't your fault. It's the economy/bad management practices/the end of the road/etc. At least you didn't lose YOUR job."
That doesn't make me feel any better. Especially the last one. Why the hell would it make me feel better that I have a job when one of my top 3 favorite people in the entire world no longer has one? WHY should that make me FEEL BETTER? I don't understand that mentality. I don't. And I wish people would stop saying that to me. STOP SAYING THAT.
I'm going to share something here that is probably entirely too much information and something that a lot of people don't know about me, but that I'm writing about because it's my fucking blog and if makes you uncomfortable, you can stop reading. It will also maybe help explain where my head is right now.
There was a period of time, during high school and college, where I was a. . .let me look up the term on Wikipedia so I can give it a generic name. A self-injurer. That's it. I won't share my particular form of "self-injuring" here (I had two, actually, and one I still struggle with, but it's more of a compulsive thing than the other one, so I don't really consider it "injuring." I'm being intentionally vague.)
Anyway, the last time I had a problem with it (an episode, if you will), was my junior year of college. It became noticeable to this girl I had a date with (a date I, incidentally, ended up never going on. Long story I'll share if you want, but I don't feel the need to write about it here). She called me on it, and I thought I hid it better than I apparently did, and that's why I stopped. Because I didn't want to have to answer questions.
So last night, I hit a really low point. I mean low. I was talking to Nick, and I have a feeling I may have given him reason to believe I'd need someone to come up and stay with me so I didn't. . .do whatever it was I sounded like I was going to do. I was in the depths, emotionally, mentally, even physically. I felt ill. And I wanted to revert back to my old habit.
I'm going to explain here, as clinically as I can, as to not sound like I've lost it. Because I haven't. Not yet, at least. I'm just explaining. I'm fine right now, as far as all this stuff goes.
For people who are on the outside of "self-injury," it's easy to say, "Man, that's crazy. You must be crazy. Why would you do such a thing?" Because they don't get it. Through all the different ways people cause harm to themselves, whether it be drinking too much, drug use, eating disorders, cutting, burning, compulsive skin picking, hair pulling, whatever, there is a very easy explanation for it. I mean, obviously, you get your people who do it for attention. But for everyone else, it's because, at least in my experience, physical experiences are tangible.
People can't control their heart hurting because of a breakup. But they can control picking off a scabbed over injury. People can't control how their head feels when they're depressed. But they can control whether or not the keep down food they've eaten or the amount they eat. Sometimes, the depression in your head is so much, you feel like there's nowhere else for the intensity of the feelings to go. But if you were to intentionally cut your skin, it's another outlet and the pain can be diverted somewhere else, from emotional to physical.
Obviously, I don't have experience with all of these. But I'm guessing that they're all very similar, interconnected, and they all have the same basic end result.
What I'm incredibly proud of at this point is that I didn't give in. I thought, "Sarah, no. That? Will get you nowhere. It will do absolutely no good. You're still going to feel just as crappy in the head. Don't go down that road again."
And I didn't. I thought a good diversion would be alcohol. But I didn't go down that road, either. All in all, I'm thinking maybe I'm stronger than I thought I was. But that doesn't change the fact that I'm in a place right now when I even considered it.
I don't know why, exactly, I'm in the place I'm in right now. I know bits and pieces of it, but there's more to it. But what I do know is that while I'm going through this, wherever it takes me, I've got at least one person who I know beyond a shadow of a doubt will be there for me if I need it. Everyone's got their stuff, and I know that he's got stuff in his own life that's hard on him, maybe even stuff that feels impossible, but every time I've had moments in my life like this, whenever I've begun to seriously question my own sanity, it seems like my friends always. . .well, in my experience, they either avoid me or later, they bring it up again and use it against me. And I know he won't do that.
I love you. I love you so much, you don't even know. Maybe because I don't tell you. Maybe I should.
Please don't comment on this entry. This one doesn't need them.
Maybe I'll be back soon. Maybe I won't. We'll see.
But I do love you.
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