Seriously, brain, just stop.

Forgiveness. I told myself I would write about this today, well, because I've been thinking about it a lot lately. I know that there are a lot of people in my life that I need to forgive; I've burned a few bridges in my day and should forgive those people, but mostly, myself. I need to cut myself some slack and allow for it to be okay that I fuck up every once in a while. It's not like I begin each day thinking, "Who can I fuck over today and how?" Which, I would think, would be exhausting. But, on a daily basis, I really do this to myself. I have a tendency to judge myself so harshly that anything that comes out of my mouth to ANYONE is foder for me to judge. And judge in such a manner that I will most likely return home and think to myself, "you should probably not speak to people, ever." I'm charming, really. But forgiveness... that's a huge word. How do you forgive yourself for shit that seems so large and so unforgivable? I read so much about the power of positivity and the power of forgiveness and ways to go about doing both. And I practice both on a daily basis... for other people. And I teach this stuff, I guide people through the process of forgiving themselves and forgiving others. So why is it so hard to practice it in my daily life for myself? It is most important that I do it for myself, because, really, how credible am I as a therapist when I can't practice what I preach? And maybe that statement is another example of how I need to cut myself some slack and stop judging so harshly. Maybe. Whatever. My point is this, it really is okay for me (and you) to fuck up. It happens. And yes, it is okay. It's actually probably good that humans make some mistakes so we can learn from them, right? How else would we learn where our boundaries are/should be?

I've taken this entire week to return to my mom's house, fall apart, piece myself back together and forgive myself for a few things. And I feel a hell of a lot better than I did one week ago. Last week I thought I was losing my mind, literally. I thought that I wouldn't make it through another day, let alone another week. But, it seems as though time and perspective can heal. Friends and family help too. Oh yeah, and home cooking.

The one where I break down.

This past weekend left me more sad and distraught than I have been in quite some time. With the most recent move, the end of a relationship, and the usual day-to-day worries, I had reached my breaking point yesterday. While on the phone with a friend, I laughed and joked about what a great time I had over the weekend (which I did), but I could feel the sadness ready to burst out of me at any moment. I did what any self respecting 30 year old would do, ignore it. Deny, deny, deny. That's how I've been dealing for the past 6 months, why stop now?
An entire season of Arrested Development and two naps later, I finally let go. I let myself be sad, upset, worried, angry, whatever, I just let it happen. I really enjoy controlling my every emotion, I am very strict about not letting myself get too high or too low. Unfortunately, over the years, this has lead to me glossing over all of the negative feelings with, "Oh yeah, that sucked, but I'm fine." A release was absolutely necessary. It's hard to relinquish control over everything; it's hard to feel so vulnerable, and I'm sure I won't be comfortable with it, maybe, ever.
I still don't feel better, but I finally feel like it's okay for me to be upset/pissed off about what happened. I need to stop judging myself so hard about how I feel about the things that have happened. So today, I'll return to my yoga mat, I'l go for a run, I'll eat a boatload of candy, and I'm sure I'll break down again. But that's okay.

Publishing my drafts

I've been sitting on this post for a few days now. I guess it's time I finally posted it.



My profession does not define me.

I have been telling myself this for weeks on end now. When I left my job in Boston and decided I would walk dogs for a living in Chicago, I felt this through my bones. I knew that statement was true, but it didn't matter, because I was loving the job. So, now, when I am faced with the option of finding temporary retail employment, do I find this to be not true? My job won't change who I am. It would be a source of income which would allow me to get out of the house, pay my bills, be a contributing (somewhat) member of society.

I need to find a job. I need to do something besides, read endless blog posts, dick around on buzzfeed, watch too much tv, stay up until 4am everyday, and knit. I need to find something more than this right now.

Not having a job has left me feeling so helpless and useless. I never thought my profession defined me but now I am questioning that to the fullest. Maybe I did let work define me, maybe it is part of who I am. 

Pugs and a run

The past few weeks have left me feeling depressed and hiding in bed for much of my days. This weekend I tried to get out and do a few little things to lift my spirits.

Those are my lovely pups, Jabba and Zelda. Zelda is quite the photogenic little girl. 

In an attempt to get myself moving again, I headed out for a run. I haven't run since May 2011 - 76 weeks to be exact. Here are my stats:

It wasn't so much a run as it was a walk interrupted with some slight jogging. I'm going to try again tomorrow. Running is the absolute worst feeling but I always feel great afterwards.

sad internet girl

Three interviews, two doctor's appointments, and one job offer later... things are exactly the same as they were last week. I declined the job offer because I went on an interview for a job that I really, really want. So, in hopes of getting this job, I declined the marketing position. I've decided I want to stay in the mental health field.



Thats the garbage that spewed out of my head earlier in the week, but I never posted. I did, however, save it. Why? It's gold. Absolute gold.

I've spun from sick-o, bronchial, nightmare to okay, life is getting back on track and then back down to "I want to die, unemployment sucks, good thing I live with my mom because I can't pay rent right now." It's been a trip. But, no worries, I've scoured the internet, slept for roughly 12 hours per day, snuggled with the dogs, and picked my sorry ass up off the ground. I'm back, bitches! (I heard Sweet Dee's voice in my head).

So, on the job front, I have no new interviews (or second interviews) in the works at this time. I had two last week. One seemed incredible and I really want the position... and the other... well, it's a job. I'd take it. I'm not about to be picky. I'm looking into bartending positions. I have never bartended (tended bar?) in my life, but for some reason I feel like I would be good at it. I like to drink. I like to talk to people... It could work.

Whatever.