Worry-free
It’s light blue. It’s a tribute to peace and beauty. It’s two blogs on the same page. It’s cheese sandwiches and puppet masters and psychics and sweaty cats. It’s East Coast/West Coast Version 2! Congrats, RJ and Flip! I mean, Choire and Philo!
They’re closing our office early today because the air conditioning isn’t working properly. (I don’t mean that Choire and Philo are closing it. I mean the powers-that-be are closing it.) It’s only the hottest day of the year, so that’s okay. But actually, it doesn’t feel that bad here right now. And I have no A/C at home, so I’m not really all that motivated to leave the office yet.
If the last few days haven’t clued you in, I’ve been pretty stressed lately. It’s not my love life, it’s my job situation. It’s tying my stomach in knots and it’s causing me guilt and shame and worry. (The Jewish trifecta.) The fact is, this job I’ve been waiting to hear about — all the positions are filled, but there’s a possibility one will open up. I don’t know if it’s really a possibility or if they’re just wondering if it might happen. But, had I not waited so long before putting together my application and sending it off, I’d have been hired already. Hence the self-recrimination.
But self-recrimination is unhealthy. So enough of that.
On the up side, my boss has been able to wangle a three-week extension for my current job. On top of that, I’ll be able to cash out a week’s worth of unused vacation days if necessary. So I’m safe through September 14. This gives me a little breathing room. I’ve been sending out resumés for almost any law-related positions I can find — attorney positions, nontraditional legal positions. So we’ll see. And people at the office are helping me out immensely, especially the Office Mom. She’s been great.
Anyway, that’s really what’s been bothering me and scaring me more than anything else.
I think I may have to declare this place a worry-free zone for a while. Expressing my worries is so natural for me. It wasn’t until high school that I realized that not everyone worries as much as I do. That’s when I first realized how unusual this is. I couldn’t understand why I worry and other people don’t. It’s a total reflex for me. It’s not something I try to do. It just happens. It’s like breathing.
But when I express all my worries here, it tends to make things worse. It’s one thing to keep your thoughts in your head. It’s another thing to put them into language. I read my words and I think to myself, oh my god, I actually think like that?
Obviously, worrying serves some sort of function for me. I’m not sure exactly what function that is. But I guess I worry because some part of me, subconscious or otherwise, sees value in it. Gotta work on that.
Anyway, I’m just going to think positive. I’ll get a job and things will be fine. Part of me knows that.
Yeah, I don’t think you ever read the early entries in my (now long dead) diaryland journal, but I found that putting my worries in writing did tend to magnify them. (Although sometimes, it’d provoke truly useful advice from my readers that I’d be the better for, but the former was more common than the latter.)
That’s pretty much why I do nothing but one liners and impersonal essays, now. That, and my mom reads my site. I don’t mind being all lewd and lascivious in front of her, but I’m still not comfortable with the whole emotional vulnerability thing in front of my immediate family. Irony irony irony.
This may sound lame, but I must say that I am going through a similar situation in a different part of my life. I don’t have any great advice to give, but a small suggestion: I am looking at my difficulties as a rite of passage. With that point of view, it seems a familiar challenge.
Best of Luck
Two session ago, my shrink asked me (it his special Socratic way) whether blogging was therapy in practice, processing in motion. “You bet, chief” I replied. But I find the writing almost inconsequential, really; it’s the editing of the story, so to speak. That’s the work. Fortune cookie advice: Your brain expenditure will redeem itself.
Wow, Noah is like the smartest person we know. I can’t wait to be permanently betrothed to him! I’m under 30 and I’m going to be MARRIED!!!
Sorry, carried away. Tin Man, I smooch you back. Thank you for your blessing.
But also I’ve been thinking about this and I want to say: our current cultural climate (whatever, sweeping generalization), our little online community I guess, has a large bias against bitching, kvetching, being angry, and expressing displeasure. And also against displaying ourselves in a negative light. For myself, for example, when I express these “negative” things I become parodic or hysterical or funny about my self-hatred and self-doubt. Rarely do I calmly and rather clearly express it, as you do.
Alot of us are problem-solvers. Got a bad feeling? FIX IT for god’s sake! Whatever you do, don’t sit there and feel it!!! We forget that feelings end. They pass, when they’re done. And when they don’t get to pass? Worry and anxiety result.
And I don’t think I’m down with it. I think that’s why we all turn on you when you express some of your self-hatred or doubt or irritation or frustration. I think I personally should acknowledge that you take the time to stew and fully experience these feelings and their side effects. Good for you!
So I rescind some of my past comments (not all of them!). Bitch away! You more than many of us say what’s actually on your mind when it’s not pretty. And you don’t cover it up in flim flam. And yes, many of us suffer from near psychotic attacks of self-doubt, we just deal with it differently. We all worry.
We all just want you to live at our different paces. And guess what? We all learn for ourselves, in our time.
God I’m a hippie now.
Mostly I just believe that worrying is very aging. There’s only so much moisturizing I can do in a day.
Gee.
Not everybody worries as much as you do?
Isn’t that kind of…worrying?