I survived

So yeah, another December that I’ve managed to come through unscathed. My sobriety birthday is in December, and my “belly button” birthday is in December. Then, of course, there’s Christmas and that kooky energy. December was always my favorite month because of all of those markers, but since my mother died it feels bittersweet. I have survived the season, but is it enough to merely survive?

Not to worry, though. It was more depressing to know that everything was operating at low energy, if at all. This damned COVID mess is really screwing with me lately, more than in the entire past year. I suppose I’m somewhat bored, but I’m also somewhat angry. WTF are people thinking about having large gatherings and still (tiresomely) refusing to mask or be vaccinated? Maybe I’m wrong, but I’m feeling as though we could be on the verge of liberation from the lowkey lockdown if people would have just cooperated and not made disease prevention a contentious political battle.

These days, however, I really don’t want to waste my time being angry. I want to be moving into some aspect of further recovery, recovery from a long period of not believing in myself. I had help, but it’s on me to believe, it’s on me to have faith. Hopefully, I’m on a road that will never double back on itself. I’m really tired of coming back to the same patterns that never worked in the first place.

I have a video job interview tomorrow, and I’m a little apprehensive but also a little excited. This is for a contract job that may last only through October, but it may be the best way to make a gentle re-entry into the workforce. Because it’s been my pattern to doubt myself and be attached to feeling that I’m not competent, I find it a little scary to contemplate going back into a structured environment with teams and performance evaluations. But, so be it. I have to move from square zero into the checkerboard somehow.

Right now, I’m hungry and doing my best to resist the urge to go out and buy Oreo caramel-coconut cookies. Those are addictive, and I just need to stay away from them because I can’t eat just a couple or even a few more than a couple. I have to eat the entire freaking package – and not a regular package. The “family size” package. I eat for an entire family, so I have no reason to be awed by how much weight I’ve been gaining. Gaining weight as though weight will somehow be unavailable to gain. That’s how nuts my eating compulsion has been. *@%!!!!

Betty White’s death has been a little bit of a downer for me. I love “The Golden Girls”, and consider it a high-quality exampled of comedic artistry, both in writing and acting. I’ve always really liked Bea Arthur, and Rue McClanahan has also been a favorite. Estelle Getty was a surprise, and I came to love her as well. I felt as though I had a longer relationship with Betty White, however, ever since Mary Tyler Moore days. Decision-makers for “The Golden Girls” said they originally intended to cast Betty White as the Blanche character, but abandoned that idea because it might have resembled the Sue Ann Nivens character from Mary Tyler Moore’s show. That, and Rue McClanahan was such a natural as Blanche, so the rest is history. They’re all gone now, all of the Golden Girls have passed on, and it’s been a little trying to watch the reruns lately.

I still don’t do very well with death. What is it? Where do people go when they die? Do they go anywhere at all, or is it just our memories of the past that keep them alive? These are still the questions a child would have, but the pain and vulnerability feel very childlike. Like when you want your mommy to come and kiss your scraped knee and put a bandaid on the hurt place. I don’t have my mommy to do that any longer, and this adulting thing has gotten way out of hand.

This job opportunity is intriguing to me, and as I said, it’s somewhat exciting. I have always worked, since I was at least fifteen, so despite the luxury of not having to be anywhere or be accountable for much of anything lately…that lifestyle is foreign to me. I guess I need to feel productive, as though I am doing something that benefits someone other than myself. Who would have thought???

What comes to mind for me right now is that I have, once again, allowed other people to define me. To define my worth, my abilities, my product. I believe they were entirely wrong, and that last job was a bad fit in terms of culture and process. It felt inhuman, as though I needed to reduce myself to machine status, and that may well be the only thing I am truly incapable of.

So where does any of this leave me? Nothing much has changed, I am still the same person, I have the same limitations and abilities. I’ve been transformation is an inside job, true change is one wrestling with one’s demons. I have been wrestling with these dark overlords for just about my entire life, and I’m still standing. Or reclining, or whatever. But the point is that I have withstood and endured everything handed to me, whether I liked it or not, and I’m still here. To the disgust of many and the amazement of many more, I am still here. And I’m not planning on going anywhere for as long as possible. I claim this land for the queen.

I do wonder what makes things so difficult for some of us, while others seem to glide effortlessly through life’s ups and downs. I am sure there are low points for everyone, but success appears to spell out some names and mangles others. That’s random, I’m sure, but if it wasn’t for bad luck some of us would have none at all. Then again, is it really luck? Am I calling this distress from out of the shadows? If so, what is the lesson? If I comprehend the learning, can I move past this and into the proverbial “sunlight of the Spirit”? I suppose the answer is far beyond my pay grade.

Still to come, the cognitive evaluation. Haven’t heard a word from the wee P.A. yet, but that’s fine. No matter what, I will go through with it, but I’m not looking forward to it. I’m very, very afraid of what this may bring to light. If I am beginning the path to my cognitive dissolution, I still want to know. I’ll be pissed as hell if that is the case, but…bring it. I have nothing to lose at this point. Not one damned thing.

I have a chiropractor’s appointment this afternoon, which is sorely (literally) needed. My left lumbar region is not happy, nor is my neck. It’s my own fault for playing on the computer in such bizarre poses, but we don’t have to delve into how the added weight could be affecting my spinal health. Let’s just not do that and say that we did, and drive on.

Speaking of which, I need new tires. Not tomorrow, but soon. Just finished paying off Firestone for the air conditioner replacement and the oil leak from this past summer. Just in time to make another bill. Such is life during capitalism and free enterprise. Even non-profits have to make money, and Firestone is definitely not a charity. Nor is the health insurance company, or the vehicle insurance company, or the pharmacy, or the grocery store. Life is good.

Doing laundry so that I can leave the apartment is some kind of presentable fashion. Plus, I will need clean clothes for tomorrow’s interview. The recruiter sent me sample questions and let me know how best to prepare. That’s fine. If the job is for me, it’s for me but I suppose I need to play all the games and make a reasonable appearance. Easier said than done, at least for me. I have been wearing the uniform of the unemployed – sweat pants, t-shirts, and bedroom slippers. Sue me.

The apartment complex has workers out doing some kind of maintenance on the outside of all the buildings today, which really doesn’t matter to me. Unfortunately, it matters to the dog because they are bumbling about and have drills and saws whirring and she is nearly hysterical.

I am also hungry, and my meal service delivery has not arrived. It was due yesterday, and I counted on not having to order out today. I may give it just a bit longer to see if it shows up…I tracked the delivery and they said “in transit”, whatever that means. The snow (yes, it snowed and I was happy) may have delayed them. If it’s not here when I leave for the chiropractor, I’ll pick up something or order pizza again. Not the best choice, but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.

That’s a whole nother question, too. What exactly is it that I gotta do? Big question. The most immediate answers are to clean up this hell hole and take a shower, but that’s too simple. I’ll have to contemplate that more later. Vive le resistance!