I think of myself as a writer. I want to write. My whole life, writing is a job I’ve never wavered from. Now, I’m still unemployed and people keep telling me what a great opportunity it is for my writing. It seems to be and yet I’ve done very little writing. I’ve done lots and lots of reading and felt inspired to write, but the words get tangled in uncertainty before I get them down. I just read a quote from Robin Hobb that writers always write what they know. Maybe that’s my problem? Maybe I’m feeling so low, uninspired, and uncertain that the writing could only share it? I don’t know. I know our money is running out. Realistically I haven’t been looking for a job in the last two weeks. I’ve dabbled in job searching and waited for something to come to me. I had an idea about trying to get on at that study abroad company. It seems interesting. Really, I’m super worried about money. I think I’m depressed. I don’t want or care about any jobs I see online anymore. I’ve lost my passion and my believe in myself. I hope I find it again before things get really bad……
Today I took a step towards publication! I have trended towards writing and keeping ti to myself, especially since the hyper competitive realm of being an English major. I haven’t really shared any of my writing since… well it’s been a while! I’ve shown Fiance my BigStory and talked about it with a couple other people but I haven’t’ had the trust to share it. It takes a huge amount of trust to share your writing with someone. You have to trust that they won’t steal it and that they will give you honest feedback. I’ve reached a wall with my story. I’m at a point where the outline is done. There’s been major behind the scenes development of the world and the cultures of its people. I’ve done character development. I’ve written pieces scattered through at least four notebooks and across two mediums. I need to put it together finally. I need some direction. I’m thinking I need a fresh pair of eyes to help me round out my narrative.
So, my mentor at work and friend outside of work, NK has been published. He’s published a fiction novel. In fact, he’s working on his second novel currently and he’s asked me to be one of his readers. He’s also been pressuring me to share my writing with him. I talked it over with Fiance and he told me to go for it. He pointed out that I can’t get published if I won’t let anyone read my work. I’m secretly terrified I write poorly, or worse- that I write drivel! I don’t think I do, but I also don’t think I’m actually as good as I believe I am. Well, all I can do is move forward and try and keep on revising.
So, I found the cancer story and read it and retyped it. It’s good and with some polishing it could maybe get published. I sent NK three of my poems and one of my short stories. He said it was very nice and good stuff. Today was riddled with anxiety but I did it. I’m trying. We will see how this whole sharing thing goes. Head up and get it written so the world can see. It’s just hard because I write my heart onto paper…
So much has happened since the last time I’ve written here. So many times I’ve thought about what I would write. I still have many of the drafts in my head… I tend to journal when things are dark. I write to purge the negativity. When there is no one for me to talk to, I journal. It’s a bit sad to know that and see how many journals and such I’ve filled. I think that when I’m happy and things are going well, I try to live more in the moment. I embrace life. To move past the shadows of life I write so I can keep moving forward instead of getting locked into a worry cyclone. Also, I tell Boyfriend much of what I’d tell a journal so when I sit down to write I feel like I’m repeating myself. And whenever I have a gap in something like this journal or blog… I never know if I should address the gap, go over what’s happened since I last wrote, or if I should just dive back into the drama. I feel undisciplined. I need to write everyday. But I don’t… I’m ready to be happy and I don’t want to be in the forest forever.
(Author’s Note: I still struggle with the thoughts expressed in this entry. I still tend to tell Husband all the things I would journal. I still don’t write as much as I should. I still feel undisciplined. I still mostly write to purge the darkness and don’t record the light because I’m too busy keeping my face towards the sun. I just do the best I can with what I have and try to let that be enough.)
Today was an interesting day filled with an array of emotions. I thought about my life and had some realizations. In no particular order here they are:
I keep thinking silly things about my job like, “So, this is how the other side lives…” This job doesn’t require a degree and in the warehouse you only make $10 an hour which is not enough to live on. People mostly just have high school degrees or GEDs here and are almost entirely uninterested in the world outside their daily lives and are often unmotivated. They’re resigned to their lots in life it seems. The problem with thoughts like these is that I realized I was thinking I was apart from “those people” I work with everyday. No.
I realized today that this really is my real life.
This really is my job.
There’s no future in this position; no options for moving up, or making more money.
It is not going to improve.
I keep waiting for it to improve; I keep trying, but it’s just not going to happen. My hands and arms are cut and torn up from all the boxes and shelves and physical labor of the job. My hands are rough and course and my nails are jagged and short. My feet hurt pretty much all the time but because I wear good shoes they’re soft and my toenails look great! (They’re currently painted Hot Flower Pink.) I work four days a week but those days are hard. Early start, hard work, long hours, and half the time also mandatory overtime leave me exhausted, grumpy, achy, and unmotivated. By the time I get home I usually just want to lay down and go to sleep. Sometimes I want dinner, but not usually. Sometimes (frequently to my dismay) I’m even too tired to shower (standing more- NO WAY!) Also, I get home but I have to go to bed so early I feel like I don’t have time to do the things I need to do, let alone the things I want to do.
If I had gone to Graduate School right after graduation, I would be halfway done at this very moment. Instead, I’m living with two guys in BigCity working a deadend job for crap pay with approximately $50 to my name (and about $3,000 in credit card debt.)
I’m still not writing. I keep making excuses and hesitating. Today I realized that not only does the world, my generation, not only do I need my book to be written, but we need it written NOW. Not in two years, or whenever I get around to it. I could positively impact the world with my stories if I could only write them down and get them out there. I want to do that. I just need to just do it. (Author’s Note: But I didn’t. Even this realization didn’t give me the kick in the pants to get it written. I was still too worried about getting it right. I didn’t finished the first draft of my first novel until 2012. Now I’m editing it. I still believe I need to get it into the world and I’m working towards it.)
I need to put on my big girl panties and get a real job. I’ve fallen into this job and now I’m drowning. I keep getting low expectations, low standards, low appreciation, and no change and it has made me lower my own standards. That is unaccetable to me. It is difficult to admit and even harder to write but today I realized the importance of being honest with myself. If I can’t be honest about where I’m at then there is no way I can begin to change my circumstances.
I need to value myself enough to do what is important to me.
I need to be at work on time because it makes me feel good. Just because being on time doesn’t matter to my boss, coworkers, or company doesn’t mean I need to show up late everyday. Just because I’m the only one who is on time doesn’t mean I should slack off. Just because I seem to be the only one who cares does not mean that I should care less. It also doesn’t mean that we are unimportant or that what we do is not important.
I am important.
I make a positive difference. It might be in small ways but it does matter that I care.
I’ve gotten so down and had my soul so crushed by this job that today I actually had to ask myself if I had finally broken.
I have NOT broken! I have bent and I will heal.
I will escape this job and leave the people behind better off then when I started the job.
I will move onward and upward.
The world is still my oyster.
I will not let this reality become my only reality.
I will change my surroundings to create and shape the reality where I can be happy.
I am finding a better job.
Boyfriend and I have been together for four years. Someday we will get married. We are going to travel.
I am happy and I am going to fight for it.
I deserve to be happy and will not stop once I find happiness.
I will not settle.