Not the right fit.
It’s little after 9am and I’m writing my first diary entry in what feels like years. I’m not sure I ever wrote a true diary entry, and I’m 40 years old. My eyes are swollen from last nights lack of sleep, and I’m already questioning my use of commas which I’ve never been good at placing. I’m hoping to get my thoughts out which will help me “do the work”, as I continue to heal a ten year battle of depression followed by the tragic death of my older sister. We’ll get to that eventually.
Dropping the kids off at school this morning felt so good after what feels like 11 days together nonstop: vacation days off of school, a weekend away and, of course, illness. My boys are 10 and almost 6, and I feel like they are finally at the age where I can breath again. My oldest is independent, and while my youngest has always been a handful, I’m feeling like kindergarten is straightening him out. Could this be the year where parenting becomes easier?
With gratitude, I’m drinking my second cup of coffee in silence to both caffeinate and warm up now that NJ is finally experiencing its’ appropriate seasons. Each morning, when I finally have a chance to sit down, I immediately go to indeed and linkedin to search for jobs, hoping that today will be the day I can continue my career in interior design. I’ve never wanted to be a stay-at-home-mom, because I thrive on working in a collaborative working environments, making spaces better for those who reside in them. So, when my last job let me go at my 60 day review, the rejection fueled my depression and made me question if I’m in the right field. “You’re not the right fit”. A punch to the gut, immediate tears from me. Were the tears sadness? Maybe, but I think it was more my body’s way of processing the overwhelm and negative emotions. I feel stuck. I want to work. I’ve applied to every job available, but here I am. Sitting on a chilly Friday morning, sipping my coffee in my living room when I’d rather be in an office where I feel valued.
Welcome to OD!
Depression is a hateful thing. I’ve dealt with my own for many years now. It does get better, though. Keep writing!
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I am quite sad. I wrote a heartfelt, albeit a bit long-winded reply to this post a couple hours ago and before finishing and posting…. Walked away to do Mom Stuff and my laptop said “Nah!” And put itself down for a little nap and didn’t save my work. A swift kick to my whickets, is what that is. Let me attempt to summarize. (Not my strong suit, bear with me here.)
1. You, my dear, have value regardless of where you are or what you are doing.
2. Having said that, I too am … Also ‘gifted’ with being home…. 24/7…. With an opinionated, stubborn, anti-napping, hearing impaired, autistic toddler. And this is not something that I chose to do because I am Happy Pretty Pinterest Mom. NOBODY job searches quite like ladies in the position you and I are in.
3. You are such a gifted writer that while reading your post, I could smell your coffee. 🙂 And it was such a vivid picture you painted that I was compelled to get up and make some of my own. I am now an entire pot deep to my damn self and stupid things are about to get done faster and with great energy. Haha!
4. Don’t quite remember what the rest of my points were, so perhaps this is an ideal place to stop. However, I wish you all the best luck on your job search, and screw those guys, they didn’t deserve your Muchness. You’ve got something special for the right place. Put your genuine heart into your cover and resume, and apply with care and intentional criteria and you are sure to find the place for you. Remember…. You are doing them a service by offering to gift them your talent, time, energy, attitude and they are privileged and special to have been given the chance to offer you monetary compensation for such. Time is the most priceless and valuable commodity you have, and choosing to give it to someone for literally anything fathomable that isn’t time added back to your clock is a sacrifice and one you should not make lightly.
No idea what type of music you’re into, but a guy from my neck of the woods became a famous white … rapper? I guess? Hip hop artist? Whatever… One of his songs has a line that is simple and yet states something so enormous. “Whatever God you believe in, we come from the same one.” That can mean so many things, and one of them is that you and I, and all the rest, are kin. Brothers and sisters alike. When you and I have long departed Earth and ascended to whatever plane exists beyond us here, if our skeletons were laid together, side by side, any observer would be able to see that whatever is responsible for creating you is also responsible for creating me. To very deep places within us, spiritually and physically as well, there is enough difference in us to allow us our own unique paths to walk, but enough similarities to prove that we are kin. We are sisters, no matter how far distant relatively…
It is with that, sister, fellow exhausted Mother, beautiful woman, that I ask you to go forth now and engage yourself into all of the badassery that is yours to badassercize. With a smile on your outsides and a smile on your insides.
May You Have Long Days And Pleasant Nights!
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