I’m barely holding on.
People are so jacked and cruel in this world. This is literally holding me together.
Well it’s just how it feels.
And will keep feeling as long as I’m in my invalidating and toxic work environment.
Funny how I flit from one toxicity to the next.
I tried to leave for the better to only end up worse. Ya, it was possible. At least here I’m not throwing up and crying before shifts. Maybe because I’m so numb?
Well, needless to say, by chance of miracles or what, I landed an interview recently.
I feel like it was due in part to a favor to my mother but I’m grateful nonetheless! For it was an interview in a position I’m trained for.
I nailed the phone interview. Felt rock solid. And I usually rock interviews. Never have had an issue.
I always get the offer in the end….it’s just the whole wait for a contract that was promised and it never come.
Well, the timing of this couldn’t be better. Everything is spiraling at work and no amount of DBT skills can salvage.
Yet when I had the interview, face to face, I just feel like I failed. Like I was throwing fails around by fistfuls out of my pockets.
My answers were not as solid as I usually have them. I couldn’t focus it.
I couldn’t sell myself.
“Your resume is very impressive, seriously, but I see here you were licensed in xx so how come you have not held a job [using said license]”
OK too complex to get into it on here without giving away a lot of identifiers… But just know this… No it is not me. Basically society fucking sucks and so does the economy. My resume would make you vomit because it’s so impressive.
But I sacrificed everything and couldn’t get the job because I wclearly as the wrong place wrong time. And in some cases, had some employers tell me I was too fat [while they had 100lbs on me] yes it’s illegal but California gets away with a looooot of shit mang.
I also had to keep working to pay, you know, bills? I have never had anyone to take care of me like that. But California apparently expected that. It’s ridiculous. It’s ludicrous.
Thus my job intimidated others because they thought I’d be bored….
Why doesn’t anyone ask me?!
Wellllll here I sit. I had to delicately and politely answer the question. With couth. Head held high as I was yet again reminded of allll the times I was never good enough.
I walked out just knowing that when I needed something the most, again, I failed. I can’t have it.
And all because someone does not believe in me.
Stay tuned I have not been officially rejected it’s just how I’m feeling. Don’t want to get my hopes up because I would be beyond devastated to lose it again.
I did online dating. And this really does exist. Men are entitled. They think they deserve to have this skinny perfectly shaped Barbie. While they themselves are beyond flawed.
At least that is how it persists in the area I live in. It sucks to be a woman.
But that is besides the point.
How, as someone with an eating disorder, as someone who is trying and fighting every damn day to love themselves, are you supposed to take this?
I know I am not the only woman out there who has dealt with this.
Please share your stories so I can empower you.
Because I have horror stories, too.
Some caused relapse. Some caused sex binges because they were triggering.
I saw this awesome project on Pinterest. It involves a mini 3 drawer system in which you organize things. In this project, you organize your coloring things.
I LOVE coloring! It is my zen. My go to self healing self care thing.
It also is an OCD thing. Arranging my coloring utensil of choice by color. Coloring in the lines. You get the point.
This project requires one to put all crayons in one drawer, all colored pencils in another drawer, and all markers in the third drawer.
Sooo simple right?
I like my crayons to go back in the exact spot they came from. No one is allowed to use my box of crayons because they might use them wrong. I own 6 boxes of the same type of crayons [1 for sharing] so that I have backup if anything goes wrong. They are to be used a certain way.
Yes you are thinking, dayam Cassie is crazy. I am thinking, I have control and it is perfect and how I left it… Exactly how I left it and will be the way I left it.
With the little I have ever had control of in my life, it is this I have come to rely on.
Was my OCD behavior bred? It is possible. My invalidating environment definitely fostered the behaviors.
Tonight I did it. I bit that crazy hard bullet. I mixed 3 boxes of crayons: 2-24 packs and 1-64 pack in one drawer. 2 boxes of colored pencils in a second drawer. 2 boxes of fine tip markers and 1 box of regular markers in the third drawer. They have all been mixed.
It looks so organized! I can easily access my coloring now and color more. I might actually use them now!
I mean I have to because they are all cross contaminated by each other. They can’t go back into their original boxes… No way of knowing now…And they cannot be mixed because that is just wrong to put them with someone that is not their crayon family…. they belong together!
Omg wtf have I done……
I am glad I am lying down. I was so proud of myself for the past hour. Now I have a headache and this is almost too much to bear.
Bite size pieces to process….
Driving home today I had a moment of complete derealization.
I was thinking about how I was driving home, to my place, where I live with my boyfriend, and it was no thang. It was normal. And then I slipped out of body.
That’s not me. Who would think I was capable of actually sustaining a relationship and not ruining it? To go home to a shared bed. So foreign. Sleep in a bed that I share with someone. This should freak me out but it was not. To a home that was not my old home. A nest that I nested. A new safe. A real safe.
I have a safe place now? That’s possible?
I felt like I was splitting in half and it lasted for about 10 minutes.
What worries me is why it’s happening.
It’s happened before: when I was not medicated, from/during severe trauma, trigger [that is obvious], etc. This was random.
I think my subconscious is slipping through my avoidance…
I have so much to say. Multiple topics. Lyrics to post. Images to relate to.
But I feel like whatever I am to post will not be good enough.
Ya. It’s that phase.
The not worthy. Not good enough. Why can’t I be accepted. Phase.
I am feeling fat. I am fat.
Why am I not good enough.
Smile. They will never know.