What's New? What's Not?

Clearly, I've been neglecting this blog lately in favor of the far more positive Got Polish? I would really love to say that things have improved for Brian and I, that we are both gainfully employed and on our way to financial and emotional recovery. Alas, such is not the case. He will receive his final Tier 4 unemployment check in the next few days and barring another extension, we will have no more money coming in. I can't believe we are still in this situation. My husband is an intelligent, dedicated, passionate, hard-working, college-educated man. He is not someone who "works the system" or wishes for handouts. He wants, more than anything, to be working and whatever standards he may have had about what type of work he'd be willing to do (or wages to accept), they are out the window. He will do anything for anyone. Yet he just cannot catch a break. It's so difficult for me to understand why NOTHING will come through for him. It's not like he's been offered anything and turned it down, the interview calls simply don't come. I'm trying to accept that for every position, there are thousands of people trying to fill it. It's just so disheartening to think that our entire future or, at the very least, present is dependent on "right place, right time" luck. I'm learning to accept that our situation isn't bad because we are bad or less deserving than anyone else. It's just a matter of being lucky and thus far, we haven't been. I am trying, really trying to keep faith that things will be okay for us but honestly, we've been in this situation for a year and a half. If something's got to give, when? If you're reading these words, please send some positive thoughts, vibes, prayers, whatever feels right to you, out into the universe. I know we can't give up but damn if I'm not awfully close to breaking.

Grrr

Today was a really shitty one. It was the kind of day that really made me wonder why I even bother. Bother with what, you might ask? Any damn thing at all, I reply. I've been told that having a positive outlook and trying to project positive thoughts into the universe helps make good things happen but how do I do that when it goes against EVERYTHING in my nature? Feeling depressed is like breathing. How do you "re-learn" how to breathe? I suppose anything is possible. Brian seems to think that this is something I can do if I work at it hard enough. I'm not saying that he's wrong. Though it's often hard to admit, I don't have all the answers. Hell, I don't even have most of them. I really am trying though. Sometimes, just getting out of bed is a victory for me. It may not seem like much to anybody else but I know how hard I fight just to achieve something resembling emotional stability. I just wish the universe would cooperate, even a little.

The Road to Hell is Paved in Good Intentions

Not sure why I'm even thinking about this now. Not sure why I even give a shit about it but you know me (or you don't but you're getting to), I'm a glutton for punishment. Let me set the scene. A few years ago, I decided to contact one of my former teachers. As you might know (or might imagine), I was an incredibly shy, awkward kid, afraid of my own shadow and TERRIFIED of the rest of the world. I hid behind big glasses, long hair and anything else I could find. Anyway, at some point, this particular teacher came into my life. For some reason, I thought that he could see me. He treated me like I actually mattered, like I was a talented writer (which was my secret wish. I loved to write and prayed that I was good at it). That affirmation was so desperately craved and so deeply appreciated. Of course, even then I wondered if I was placing too much confidence in this person...if he, like everyone else in my life, would fail me. Still, years went on, I felt appreciated, to a degree, by this person, and it was one of the rare light spots in my otherwise dreary existence. Of course, I eventually graduated and that was the end of this person's place in my life. Many years later, I found myself looking up people from my past and I came across a professional contact e-mail for this person. I thought for a moment then took the plunge and wrote a quick note, re-introducing myself, so to speak, wondering if he would even have the slightest recollection of who I was. To my surprise, he did, with startling clarity. We continued to correspond for several months, through frequent notes sent from my end and occasional replies from his. In time, I found myself back in New York for a visit and we decided to arrange a meeting. We went out for drinks and had a lovely conversation. I, naively, thought that I was making a new friend. If you know me at all, you know that I desperately crave kindness, companionship and affection (though not, of course, in a romantic way). I'm a hugger, always have been. I have no qualms about telling people how I feel about them if it's in a positive way. If someone pisses me off or disappoints me, that I sit and wallow in for fear of losing that person altogether (even if, in many cases, it would be to my benefit if I DID lose them). But when it comes to liking or caring for someone, I wear my heart on my sleeve, much to my almost constant detriment. I can't help it, I lost my father way too young, all of my grandparents and, for all intents and purposes, my brother (but that is a story for another day, perhaps). I don't like losing anyone, for any reason. So, back to this teacher. We went out for drinks, talked pleasantly for a while, and ended things on a positive note, with a friendly hug goodbye and the promise (at least, the perceived promise) that we would continue to correspond and continue to grow a new friendship, no longer student and teacher but now two married adults with shared interests. Apparently I assumed entirely too much. I returned home, wrote a few more notes, got a few more replies but quickly got the very distinct impression that he wanted little more to do with me. He indicated, in so many words, that I was expecting too much, that friendships were organically grown and that I was trying to "force" something that wasn't there. My level of openness and honesty was clearly uncomfortable for him and though he didn't outright say "leave me alone," that was the strong implication. So, I did. It was really disappointing, to say the least, and if I were to be completely honest (which I am, often to my detriment), it was rather crushing. I am not initially a trusting soul, I don't know if I ever have been, but once I start to open up and let someone in, I expose my inner being entirely too quickly and make myself the perfect victim, just waiting to be rejected. After the devastating blow, I responded to this person, who suggested that perhaps we might correspond a few times a year, that I would leave him alone completely as that seemed to be his true wish. I kept to my word for about eight or nine months. Then, fool that I am, I once again sent out feelers. I did so in a much more reserved and restrained way than I typically do but nevertheless, my attempt was ignored. Sure, it's possible that his contact information had changed since then. Perhaps the e-mail got lost in cyberspace as they often do. But really, he probably just ignored it as he wants to be left alone, at least by me. Why am I writing about this? Why do I even care about something that ostensibly ended about a year ago? I suspect it has a little to do with the fact that this year will be (if it takes place) my 20th high school reunion and it is conceivable that I might run into this person again. Even more, it is because I am a glutton for punishment and seem to live to torment myself. I'm not sure I used this example before but I liken myself to a puppy in a pet store window. You know the one, the one that presses its nose to the glass, hopping and jumping, making adorable faces, doing everything it can in a desperate attempt to get your attention and be chosen. I am not showy in that way, but inside, that is me. I am always the one desperate to be noticed, chosen, assured that I am, in fact, good enough, worthy, lovable. I don't think that will ever change. I have a fantastic husband, a wonderful mother, amazing friends. They all assure me constantly that I am worthy and loved. Then why is it that what seems to resonate most is when people DON'T deem me worthy or lovable? Why can't I focus on all the good instead of the pieces of bad? I guess that is a question I'll never be able to answer to my own satisfaction. It is, simply, the nature of me. Which reminds me, every day in every way, why I wish I could be somebody else.

Everybody's Working for the Weekend

Well, I will be, anyway, for the first time in years. I have orientation for my new job as a cashier at Publix this coming Saturday at 10 am. Is this where I thought I'd be at this point in my life, a scared rabbit freaking out over a part-time job? What do you think? Still, it's a step in the right direction for me. If nothing else, it will force me to leave my house, dressed in more than a t-shirt and pajama pants, and actually communicate with people without the safety net of a computer monitor running interference. A scary prospect but one that I knew I would have to face at some point. I suppose it might as well be now when we need the money more than ever. I have my fingers, toes, cats' paws and anything else I can think of crossed that Brian will find work soon, too. I know it's difficult for him that this came through for me when he's been doing everything under the sun to find a job for a year and a half. He deserves a break, so much. I really want this to happen for him, for us, as soon as possible. Until then, he will be my ever-faithful house husband, fixing me wonderful bagged lunches for work, and supporting me as always. He couldn't be happier for me and I am so very lucky to have such a wonderful life partner. *Deep breath.* Oh well, here goes.

Dream On

For some reason, I just remembered one of my dreams from last night. I rarely remember my dreams so I figure I'd better keep track of them when I do. In it, Greg Evigan (perhaps best known to my generation for his starring role in My Two Dads, although he is equally well-known for BJ and the Bear) and Heather Locklear (no explanation necessary) were trying to decapitate me with razor wire. I woke up from that dream, went to relieve myself, and promptly fell back asleep, only to wake up again an hour or so later (again to relieve myself. My fellow tiny-bladdered folks can relate) after having another dream in which, interestingly enough, once again, someone was trying to kill me. I don't recall who or how but the theme most definitely continued. Ponder this, won't you?

Happy Schmalentine's Day!

Yeah, I'm about 20 minutes late, go figure. Let me mention that I am not, have never been and will never be a particular fan of Valentine's Day. To those who are not in a relationship, it's sort of a bold-faced, all-in-caps reminder of that fact. To those who are, it's a pressure-inducing, Hallmark holiday that mostly serves to sell you insane amounts of stuff you either don't need or cannot afford. I am a happily married woman but the pressure gets to me and causes me more stress on this day than I should allow. Honestly, shouldn't we just celebrate love EVERY day? But, despite all this, I'm allowing myself this brief interruption in my usual cynicism and snark to post this picture that can't help but make me smile. For whatever it's worth, for whatever this day does or does not mean to you, Ralph Wiggum is fabulous. Love and hugs and mushy stuff to all.

I'm So Ronery

Just putting this out there, it really SUCKS living so far away from your true friends. Don't get me wrong, I have one friend, one of my closest, living just two doors down and I am SO grateful for that, but aside from her, I do not have one single friend in the state in which I live. I've always been the "quality, not quantity" type when it comes to friends and I have always said that if I can count my true friends one one hand, I'd consider myself very lucky. I can definitely do that and again, I'm very grateful. However, sometimes knowing that someone is just a phone call (or, more likely, as I am not a fan of the phone, a facebook message) away is just not enough. No matter what anyone tells you, there is nothing like hearing your friend's voice and seeing her face as the words fall from her lips. There is nothing that takes the place of shared laughter, especially when it's followed by a big happy smile or, even better, a hug. Aside from my husband, our two cats, and the aforementioned one great friend, I am alone here and I've got to tell you, it sucks. I know that I am at a distinct disadvantage with regard to making friends here. I am not currently working. Hell, I don't volunteer, take a class, or do anything else that would allow me the opportunity to make new friends. The extent of my social life is limited, primarily, to facebook and though I do not underestimate or discount the importance of the deep, true, lasting friendships that facebook has allowed me to find, grow and maintain, again, it's not the same as face to face contact. I want to go out with friends on a shopping trip, to share a meal, to see a movie, you know, all the things that are fun to do with your spouse or alone or with your one close (in distance) girlfriend but are sometimes even more fun with a couple of friends or, dare I say it, a group. Moving back to New York is not the answer, though I do have several friends who live there. I want to have that same experience here in Florida. "Well Kari" you might say, "why don't you get off your ass and do something that might allow you to make friends?" My simple reply is "I'm trying." When you suffer from clinical depression, as I do, can't, for the life of you, find a job, and have pretty much lost your will to do more than maybe brush your teeth and get dressed on any given day, it makes that quite difficult. It's frustrating too because I HAVE amazing friends. I know that if not for the geographic distance, we would spend time together doing all of the fun things that friends do. I am 37 years old. It's really hard putting yourself out there when you already have the friends you want, albeit too far away. It's really hard putting yourself out there, period. I just don't know if I have the strength to do it again. I envy people who live their whole lives in the same place. Though my hometown is not necessarily where I'd have wanted to spend my entire life, there is something to be said for the comforts of home. Florida has never been, and will never be, "home" for me. I don't quite know where home is but I hope someday to find it. I hope someday to feel comfortable enough with myself that these things won't be a problem anymore. I hope. I guess that's something.