Friday, March 09, 2007

Work is Work

For the most part, I love my job. Except it does get pretty tricky being the only girl there, running that fucking office... feeling like everyone's damn mom because they just don't get their shit right. But that's what I'm getting paid for, right? The schedules and deadlines definitely contribute to all the stress. But that's just the nature of this industry. I signed on for this... job security. There are projects slated with this client for the next 15 years. And she's been wanting to hire me out of my company for a year now. I can't say enough that I feel like I just need to be patient to see what will happen with that. In the meantime, I have my debt to pay off, and my writing to pursue. Those are my goals right now. And I'm doing very well with both.

Except today, I snapped a little again. I know why I do it. I know it just stresses me out to constantly feel like I have to remind these guys over and over again with this stupid shit... this stupid shit that I should NOT have to remind them of because we are all fucking adults. I'm the youngest one working there... and the only girl. I get teased a lot, and I don't mind it because I know it's all in good fun. Except sometimes, it just gets under my skin to not be treated like a normal woman who should be respected and treated like one of them. Just because I'm not a male construction worker doesn't mean they should treat me with any less respect or maturity. It just gets frustrating sometimes. And it gets most frustrating/confusing when I have nights and weekends like this week... nightmares every night. And last night was especially scary. There is always something chasing or attacking me. And more often than not, if it's people, they are faceless. Sometimes I'm being chased and attacked by animals, too. But ALWAYS, in every nightmare, I can't scream or move to cry for help. No matter how hard I try, I'm frozen, stunned and scared in my nightmares. I try with all my strength to muster any kind of sound so someone can hear my cries for help. Except nothing comes out. Meanwhile, my attacker slowly gets closer and closer. I often wake myself up screaming or crying. I'm always drenched in sweat. The other night I woke up with sweat pouring down my face. Like I just walked out of the shower. My body was so drained and heavy. It took so much energy to turn around, turn on the tv for noise and light, and open my window for fresh air. I started to cry a little because I hated that I was alone.

I wish I had a boyfriend sleeping next to me during nights like this.

I snapped at work because I've had, literally, no sleep all week due to these nightmares. I'm pretty much running on empty by the time Friday rolls around. And I don't want medication so going through all of this alone and natural is even tougher than I imagined. But I need to feel all this naturally. Once and for all.

I just talked to an old friend of mine for over an hour. She's still in the middle of her divorce, but at least they're on speaking terms now, which helps the divorce details go smoother. She was also raped. And she's been there for me since I moved back to this place. We kind of just get each other's craziness because we've both had really fucked up childhoods, been through horrible experiences, like rape, as young women, escaped to hard drugs, alcohol, promiscuity & suicide attempts... she's an incredible friend, and she always has a way of making me feel more normal again. I don't have many real friends I can say that about. Just a handful of them exist in my life. A lot of time may go by where we don't talk or see each other, but when we do talk again, we talk forever, catch up and just "get" each other.

I called our main office on the way home from work confirming if I was really going to be running this office solo for this client... It's all up to me, what I can and can't handle. I have more freedom with this position than I realize, I think. Except it's just hard to see that when you've had a number of sleepless, nightmare-filled nights like I have. I'm slowly recognizing that the more honest I am about my life and what I need to survive, the more respect and support I gain.

I just have to remember to not be afraid to let these guys know that I need them to pay better attention in doing their jobs because that helps me do mine.

Work shit aside, today was exhausting with emotional highs and lows. I've been having trouble finding that emotional middle ground. But I don't want medication so I just have to muscle it. And I can handle it. I can deal with it. If I dealt with my rape all by myself, in secret, for ten years, then I can deal with anything.

Aside from all of that, I've been thinking a lot about him... something about our friendship ending the way it did just doesn't sit right with me. But it's out of my hands. I don't believe he felt something only "in the beginning." I seriously, honestly, in my gut, believe that he felt something as deep, intimate and scary as I did on our last night together. That's why neither of us slept at all after we had sex... or at least that's what my gut believes. Because it felt so different than ever before... yet we weren't ready to communicate that to the other for whatever reason... although we did agree something did feel different. We just weren't sure what it was. I wanted to have another night with him to confirm what I was feeling... was it a good different or a bad different? Except that's exactly when he started to pull away from me. Just when I thought I knew I wanted to be with him, and no one else, he decided he was done. I can't say for certain, of cours, but I think he was tired of waiting around for me to decide what I wanted. And by then, he had already turned everything off. I don't understand why I keep thinking about it... I just miss him. I feel like I've lost this great friendship that went to shit for no reason. We got along great... it was always so fun to spend time with him, although I never had the chance to see him as much as I really wanted to... and if the sex was that great - the best I've ever had - then I just don't understand why this happened. I adored having him in my life. I don't understand our relationship and how it evolved into this nothingness... the sex was more than fantastic, and it was just so comfortable and safe to be with him. I just don't understand what happened.

Don't worry, though. I know this is it for us. And call me crazy, but you, too, know how great it was. I know you know. I just don't know why you started acting like I was this ugly mole on your face you couldn't wait to get rid of. Good riddance, huh? Hope you're happy. I just think all this really sucks is all. But I had to completely cut our contact because I couldn't just be your friend. I care about you way too much to just be your friend. And if that's alll you want from me, okay then. But I'm sorry... I think I feel something different. And I'm sorry if it took me too long to be certain of that, but look at what my life's been since early childhood. I have more than enough reason to act like I don't care... because then you can't hurt me. But in the end, I just ended up hurting myself somehow. And now we're not in each other's lives at all. It just doesn't make sense to me. Something about how this all ended just doesn't make sense to me. Just like my rape.

I just need to accept the way things are. Right here. Right now. I just have to accept my life and relationships as they are. And more than that, I MUST accept that there are some things I just will not understand. And even more than that, I must accept that there will be things in my life which I am just not meant to understand. They just are what they are. And my life experiences, good and bad, are all part of the big picture.

I miss him, but... I have to completely let him go because I really do care about him too much to pretend like I don't care that much at all.

Time for another beer...


Post a Comment

<< Home

Copyright 2006 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including printing and photocopying, recording or by any other information storage or retrievel system, without permission in writing from the publisher.