Making Good Use of My Time Away From The Salt Mine

I love hearing my own material come back to me. Most of the time it is philosophical shit & advice. And today I was reminded about this book I recommended & I’ll be using my recovery time planning my ultimate exit strategy. 

For 20 years it has been like mustering up the appetite to eat rotten meat. Each year bringing more & more changes & challenges. Most days I’d sit on my cubicle silently sobbing. Nearly 29 months of COVID have compounded all that with the prevailing awareness I am not safe. And for a person like me, who never felt truly safe from early childhood right on through the day I met Maharajah (32 years), vulnerability & insecurity are big issues for me. 

In the last 7 months I tried therapy (again!), and anti-anxiety & anti-depressants (again!), and zero return on that investment of time & money. I can neither meditate nor medicate my way out of a shitty job & an existential crisis.

Prior to my surgery 16 days ago, without exaggeration, each day would start with my first disappointing thoughts being “oh fuck, I didn’t die in my sleep,” before my feet even hit the floor.

After day 5 post-op, there has been a shift in my outlook. (And no it isn’t the vicodin—which I am happy to report, I am no longer taking!) NOW, my first thoughts each day are now, “I can’t wait to see how much more I improved & how much better I feel after sleeping last night.”

15 Years ago I had a “5 year plan, where I’d go out in maternity leave, then redirect myself & find a new job. Well, that never happened. My salary is a trap, no one wants to hire me at a lesser salary presuming I’d be a flight risk & leave first chance I could for higher pay.

There is also the issue of self-sabotage during interviews too, and not really knowing how to market myself, as well as the possibility of an as yet undiagnosed personality or social disorder that might be impeding my ability to find alternate work.

All I know is after 20 yrs I believe I deserve better than anxiety attacks, sobbing at my desk & a raging case of imposter syndrome. I hope by Sept. 2023–or sooner to be out of there. Bottom line: I don’t feel safe & I’m tired of feeling as if *I* am a problem.