In A Funk
It hit me last night that I have been extremely cranky the last couple of days. I don't know why.
I even feel, by posting this, that I'm admiting some weird defeat, in a way. Like I've been given everything I could ever want to be happy and I still seem to be moaning. Out of everyone I know, shouldn't I be the LAST person to be complaining?
Well, I did say that this would be a blog about my experiences. And this is all part of the experience, I guess.
Before we left Canada the first time, I used to get very upset and melancholy about my life. Things would upset me - my job, my money situation, my weight - and I would feel as though it was the end of the world.
It did usually come during a lady's favourite time of the month, when hormones were raging. Happy and content one minute, sad and angry the next. I used to hate it. So did D.
Perhaps that's what it is this time. But I haven't felt like this in over a year. Since we left, this is the first time I have had this same annoyed feeling, irritated by the silliest things.
I'm not getting as anxious as I used to be but I am definitely feeling defeated. I think I'm scared that I've finally gotten to the point I've been talking about getting to since last summer and now I have to really get out there, start applying for those publishing jobs and the worst little inkling in the back of my head...
What if I fail? What if I send all my resumes out and I hear NOTHING. What if my experience travelling around doesn't actually hold any weight? What if being from another country doesn't give me the edge - the hook - that I think it will? What if I have jepordized my career by taking off to gallavant around Europe for a year?
Then other voice pops in - when did you become obsessed with your career? What happened to that positive, big picture type of girl who was always now happy and grateful for what she had been given? Who had no regrets and never wanted to say she 'wished she hadn't...' ever again?
So, then, I get angry with myself. And even more irritated - WHY AM I FEELING LIKE THIS!??!!
I keep making jokes to D that I need the happy seratonin (sp) - the hormone high you get from exercising. Perhaps this is just my latest crutch.
I always seem to say, "Oh, well, I can't do A because I'm waiting for B, C and D to happen first".
D treds on dangerous grounds when he suggests ways to elimintate doing B or C or D. Is he suggesting that I don't know what I'm doing?
That I'm doing it WRONG!?
That I'm simply procrastinating, making up excuses, that I don't really have a focus or know what I want to do?
That I'm being too picky and should just apply to anything and everything that has to do with writing?
What's the point in taking a job I don't want to do now? Then, I'd be right back where I was a year and a half ago - back to the spot I said I would NEVER go again.
But he's just asking questions, trying to help. It's my sensitivity to it that makes me jump down his throat.
I have always hated being told what to do. I would clean my room, as long as my mother never asked me to. I would unload the dishwasher, as long as it wasn't 'my job' to do so. I don't know why but I just liked to do things, only if they were my own ideas.
Perhaps I'll feel better next week. Who knows. But I hate that I am feeling this way now. This person was GONE! GONE-DY! ASTA-LA-VISTA! AU REVIOUR!
How did she get back here?
It hit me last night that I have been extremely cranky the last couple of days. I don't know why.
I even feel, by posting this, that I'm admiting some weird defeat, in a way. Like I've been given everything I could ever want to be happy and I still seem to be moaning. Out of everyone I know, shouldn't I be the LAST person to be complaining?
Well, I did say that this would be a blog about my experiences. And this is all part of the experience, I guess.
Before we left Canada the first time, I used to get very upset and melancholy about my life. Things would upset me - my job, my money situation, my weight - and I would feel as though it was the end of the world.
It did usually come during a lady's favourite time of the month, when hormones were raging. Happy and content one minute, sad and angry the next. I used to hate it. So did D.
Perhaps that's what it is this time. But I haven't felt like this in over a year. Since we left, this is the first time I have had this same annoyed feeling, irritated by the silliest things.
I'm not getting as anxious as I used to be but I am definitely feeling defeated. I think I'm scared that I've finally gotten to the point I've been talking about getting to since last summer and now I have to really get out there, start applying for those publishing jobs and the worst little inkling in the back of my head...
What if I fail? What if I send all my resumes out and I hear NOTHING. What if my experience travelling around doesn't actually hold any weight? What if being from another country doesn't give me the edge - the hook - that I think it will? What if I have jepordized my career by taking off to gallavant around Europe for a year?
Then other voice pops in - when did you become obsessed with your career? What happened to that positive, big picture type of girl who was always now happy and grateful for what she had been given? Who had no regrets and never wanted to say she 'wished she hadn't...' ever again?
So, then, I get angry with myself. And even more irritated - WHY AM I FEELING LIKE THIS!??!!
I keep making jokes to D that I need the happy seratonin (sp) - the hormone high you get from exercising. Perhaps this is just my latest crutch.
I always seem to say, "Oh, well, I can't do A because I'm waiting for B, C and D to happen first".
D treds on dangerous grounds when he suggests ways to elimintate doing B or C or D. Is he suggesting that I don't know what I'm doing?
That I'm doing it WRONG!?
That I'm simply procrastinating, making up excuses, that I don't really have a focus or know what I want to do?
That I'm being too picky and should just apply to anything and everything that has to do with writing?
What's the point in taking a job I don't want to do now? Then, I'd be right back where I was a year and a half ago - back to the spot I said I would NEVER go again.
But he's just asking questions, trying to help. It's my sensitivity to it that makes me jump down his throat.
I have always hated being told what to do. I would clean my room, as long as my mother never asked me to. I would unload the dishwasher, as long as it wasn't 'my job' to do so. I don't know why but I just liked to do things, only if they were my own ideas.
Perhaps I'll feel better next week. Who knows. But I hate that I am feeling this way now. This person was GONE! GONE-DY! ASTA-LA-VISTA! AU REVIOUR!
How did she get back here?
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