I miss the days when life was simple. I had a job, but all my money went toward gas and fun. My biggest concern was whether or not I’d be allowed to go out with my boyfriend the next weekend. (Or if I’d have a boyfriend the next weekend). These days life is quite different from all that. Things aren’t nearly as simple.
I’ve been unemployed for a few weeks now, and looking for employment sucks. I hate being in the mass of unemployed people searching for a job and just hoping I might get lucky enough for an interview. Then hoping they like me enough during the phone interview to get another phone interview. Then, perhaps, I’ll be lucky enough to get a face-to-face interview. Seriously?! It’s all so exhausting. I’ve applied for so many jobs – jobs I know I’ll never get a call for an interview for simply because I’m “over qualified” or some other typical stupid excuse, jobs that I know I’d be good at but I also know I’d hate… all because I need to have an income. As much as hubs and I might wish we were a one income household we are not. I have brought too much debt into this marriage (student loans) for us to be able to firmly rely upon his income alone.
Then there’s the case that after being with the same company for the past 10 years, hubs has decided he’s unhappy. No, he’s not going to just leave without another job lined up, but the entire thing makes for awkward times at home. How can I support him and uplift him when I can’t even do it for myself? I’m unhappy most of the time these days. I was wrongly accused and forced to resign because of it. I feel guilty where I should not. I feel to blame where I am not. And the entire thing weighs on my heart in ways that I cannot describe.
I cry at the simplest of things. I want to cry all of the time, but crying makes the constant headache that I’ve been living with even worse than usual. The downward spiral to “depression land” has made the physical pain worse, as depression causes pain and vice-versa. It’s all rather depressing even to just read about. I’m just one huge wall of self-pity, and the act of self-pity is, in itself, exhausting.
I don’t dislike myself. I honestly don’t even feel sorry for myself. I know that somehow hubs and I will pull through all of this, and we’ll be stronger because of it. But none of that means I have to enjoy myself in the mean time, and I most certainly am not.
I have an interview tomorrow… Just the thought makes me want to go throw up.