A few weeks back, I got the news that my job could be ending soon. I spent that entire day walking around in a daze of confusion, panic, and anxiety. Instantly, I had at least 136 questions: What would I do? Where would I go? What about not having a degree? Would that limit me even further? Would I have to start over from scratch?? "I'm too OLD to start over from scratch!!" wailed my inner grown up. How would I make it? When had I gotten so comfortable in this job that I'd stopped looking?? Fear, anxiety, guilty, MORE FEAR, worry, shame, and discombobulation all began to converge on my psyche at once. In total, I was a mess. A HOT ass mess. I had already been feeling depressed, had stopped wearing makeup regularly, and hadn't been out socially in months really. I didn't need this. LOL.
My relationships were in just about the same state. I had no boyfriend, every guy I met that I was really into disappeared without a word, my friendships had become awkward and stagnant, and I had lost most of the connections I had with people. After a while, i just didn't want to be bothered with anyone, even Isayah at times. So, I took a vacation. Preparing for a vacation (my first as an adult, might I add) was stressful but it provided a much needed distraction. Once I boarded the plane to sunny Miami, I immediately felt a little better. In hindsight, I realize how much pressure I put on Miami to make me feel better, to be the cure-all for what ailed me at the time. (Poor, poor Miami, LOL) I thought I would go to Miami, get some sun, get a great tan, flirt with cute boys, and eat some great food. I'm not much for the beach or the pool, but I certainly anticipated lying out next to one (or both). I thought that all of it would combine to clear my head and make things a bit easier to figure out.
What actually happened was a few things.
First, I discovered that you should not go to Miami without a transportation plan. Walking IS A SETUP. Let me say that once more for the people who speed read: WALKING, IN HOT ASS MIAMI, IS A SETUP. Rent a car. Rent a bike. Rent a fucking Vespa for all I care. Just...rent something other than cute new flip-flops.
Second, i discovered that Miami, outdoors, is not Big Girl friendly. I'll admit it. I've gained a few pounds since this time last year and I've not attempted to reduce them in the least. Knowing I was going to Miami, i should have, but didn't. The constant walking , coupled with the heat (no wonder their team is called The Heat) and (the subsequent friction and chafing of) my new thunder thighs did not make for fun times. I'd tried to jazz things up by wearing a two piece bathing suit --consisting of a tankini and boy short bottoms-- instead of the traditional one piece. Big mistake. I was CONSTANTLY tugging the top up, and the bottoms down. Apparently my boobs had a growth spurt without my permission and forgot to put me on notice. Yes, i did try it on before I bought it, smart ass, but somehow it ended up different once I actually wore it to the pool. Next time, pay the money and get the cute one piece from Newport News. My self esteem will certainly fare better next time in that bangin' one piece after I've seen half of The Americas strolling around super thin and half ass naked than it did on this trip.
My wardrobe plan was to wear nothing but maxi dresses, and my bathing suit. Let's just call that what it was: #epicfail. The dresses were long and HOT. The suit made me look (and feel) bigger and lumpier and more awkward than I can ever remember feeling. I'd thought I had a pretty decent self-esteem before this trip. Um, yeah. My self-esteem was a stranger to me by Day 2. I felt old, unattractive, and overweight. I became paranoid that everyone else was secretly feeling and thinking the same way but didn't care enough to even mention it. I felt...overlooked...and dismissed.
Third, I discovered that a vacation is just that: a break. It is not a cure. For anything. NOTHING. It is time spent in a (possibly) different place, doing (hopefully) different things, with (maybe) a different group of people. That's all it is. It's not really designed to help you have breakthroughs...unless of course you needed a breakthrough about where to relocate to, and you discover that your vacation spot is where you now want to LIVE, and you luck up and find employment AND housing while you're there. Otherwise, your problems will be right where you left them when you return home, sitting patiently on the other side of the door like a loyal puppy who missed you while you were gone. In fact, if your problems are anything like puppies I've had in the past, then they probably caused more trouble and made more of a mess of things while you were out neglecting them. *smh* Needless to say, my head wasn't clear. I actually left with about five problems, and came back--FROM VACATION--with about 12. Only I can pull that off.
Sigh.
The following week, I got the news about my job. *whispers* Damn.
Negative thoughts are like crack: once you start, it's kinda hard to stop.
(*Disclaimer: I have never smoked cracked in my entire life. That's just what I heard. LOL.* )
I was an emotional wreck, the negative thoughts wouldn't stop, and I was running out of money. I spent way too much money in Miami so I had to tap into my savings upon my return home. My job was cutting my part time pay (I cleaned the office) so my income would be short, henceforth.
It was time for a serious hiatus. I turned my phone off, closed down all communications with FB and Twitter, and I stopped responding to texts and emails. I got cursed the hell out for that last move, so I just responded to folks that i was lying low and would hit them back when I resurfaced. I don't even remember how long ago that was. But, if you go back and look at some of my most recent posts, it won't be hard to tell when it all started going south, lol.
This is such an emotional roller coaster I'm on. It would be nice to get off and ride a smoother ride for a while.
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