Makes Queen Vee a dull girl.
The band was supposed to play the small party and I got on stage to join them. I strapped my guitar on and sat down. We began to play but something (invisible) stopped me and I physically couldn’t strum. The frustration I felt was overwhelming. I practically threw the guitar and stalked off through the crowd saying, “I can’t take it anymore, I just can’t take it.” (It is something I probably say weekly with sincerity to some of my co-workers.)
I went up to my room, took off my jeans and put on the navy blue yale sweatshirt I owned when I was 12. I slipped into bed, curled up into the fetal position and began to cry. Someone came in and sat on the bed. I thought it was my friend until he put his hand on my shoulder and spoke. It was my father.
“You know you shouldn’t do that in front of your mother. It only upsets her and sends her into depression,” he said softly.
“I know I know,” I said through muted sobs. “I’m not trying to get sympathy. I don’t want anyone’s pity. I just want things to stop holding me back.”
The tears continued to fall until I woke up with a tear stained face.
That was my dream last night. It’s so blatantly telling of what’s going on in my subconscious it’s almost embarrassing. Granted I’ve felt stunted in the relationship category for a long while, feeling it at work too tips the scales too heavily to one side. On top of that, stunting myself is a completely different feeling than being stunted by egotistical, ridiculously political (dare I say even sexist at times) jealous people who don’t know their heads from their asses.
Frustrated doesn’t even begin to describe how I’ve been feeling for the past six months. I think I’m doing the right thing by hanging in there…something has to happen eventually. I’ve applied for all kinds of jobs and tapped all the connections I possibly can. Something somewhere has got to give, I just hope it’s not me. I can’t help but feel like I’m being tested, by whom I don’t know, but I’m damn tired of this test. Patience is not one of my virtues, but I am not without it either. I’ve waited for things before and no doubt will in the future. But this is starting to kill me.
Maybe it’s not patience that I’m being tested for, but strength. It seems unfair though that some people have to suffer tests of strength involving actual human survival, and here I am complaining about a corporate job that’s not worth the dirt under the feet of real sufferers. I am grateful for my job and the life I am able to live, it’s just…it’s even more frustrating to know how big life is and how small I have to live it sometimes. That’s being melodramatic I know, because most of the time I’m truly happy with the way things are, but there’s so much life has to offer and I hate that I can only get bits and pieces. Almost everyone has to work in order to live, I just wish less time had to be devoted to it. I suppose living life to the fullest is a subjective thing, but I think it’s safe to say we’d all like to do a little more living, a little less working.
Maybe this is all just stemming from having an outside source hold me back, instead of myself for once. If the tables were turned, sure I’d have to abide by certain politics but I’d take care of those who worked for me. At the very least, I would try.
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