Today was a Bad Day.
I remember recently writing about the time of the day when everyone leaves the office and I’m left on my own to get stuff done. I remember saying I truly enjoyed that, and I remember really meaning it. Last week and this week something has changed.
I’m not the sort of girl who cries. I mean, I do plenty of girl-like things (ferrets in cardigans? OMG THE CUTENESS) but I don’t cry. I think maybe that’s not a good thing, but it’s kinda the way I roll. The last time I remember crying was at Nan’s funeral. And you know, funeral, right? Tonight though I could not stop it coming. It hit me at the strangest time, at my desk at work, right before 8PM. Right after around the 72nd text message from the boss about some file that she needed me to find that she couldn’t remember the name of, the content of, or the date or location she’d saved it. And once it started I couldn’t stop it. I put my head in my hands and howled.
The last few working days I’ve found myself a little restless after 5PM, when the office empties. Also a little bit pissed off that I’m always the only one still there. I get over that pretty quickly though, because it’s my job. But I just get so TIRED – the manic day is behind me and many hours of plain old slog stretches out before me, with no real end in sight.
I have felt particularly down during that time at work that I’m on my own, before I come home. I think I’ve finally figured out what it is – I just feel like I’m all by myself right now. I’m surrounded by people all day, but ultimately that doesn’t mean shit. At the end of the day they’ll go home (on time) and I’ll still have my shit to deal with. I will tie up the ends, I will lock all the doors, I will sit there in the one square of light in the big expanse of dark and make sure everything is right for tomorrow. Then, I get in my car by myself, drive home to where I live by myself. If washing needs doing I do it. If dinner needs making I cook it.
Yesterday one of the girls at work got some bad news about her father. She hasn’t ever really had a relationship with him, but regardless, bad news is bad news. She’s been upset, and I’ve been talking to her about whether or not she needs to travel home to deal with it. She tells me she may come in late tomorrow because she has to make some calls. I get all of that, and I feel bad for her. It’s a shitty situation. Still, there’s a small part of me that goes HANG ON now. I haven’t really said much to anyone there about Dad. Unless people ask, I don’t tell. I figure (and I know I’m right about this) that while they’ll appear concerned and compassionate externally, really it’d just be a small blip on their daily landscape. Probably rightly so. I mean, a persons compassion can only stretch so far. I think also it’s important to not bring that sort of thing to work. So here I am speaking to this person about what they’re going through, making concessions for them and accommodating them through this difficult time, meanwhile thinking well, it must be nice having someone to talk to like this; to tell you that it’s right to feel what you’re feeling and of course, do what you need to do. Nothing, not even your job, is more important than what you’re going through right now.
Perhaps it’s up to me to TELL people I’m not really coping. There seem to be a lot of people around me right now that need support of some kind. Visa support, tech support, emotional support, office support. Sometimes I just think it would be nice to have someone flesh and blood to lean on. I’m on the peripheral of everything right now, yet feel like I’m the corner of the bottom row of the pyramid. I could bring the whole thing down.
I’m my own worst enemy in a lot of ways. I wear my independence on my sleeve because I’ve worked hard on myself to achieve it. I was in a place for a long time where I had no strength without others. Now I find myself at the polar opposite end of the scale. I guess it’s like a bucket of water – you bump it, and it teeters. The water pitches to one side and nearly spills over the edge. Then, it pitches to the other side until again it almost spills. Gradually the to and fro becomes less extreme, and eventually the water finds balance and stillness in the centre.
And meanwhile I just have to try and cope with the seasickness.
Tonight, sitting here pushing my way around the world of the internets while feeling sorry for myself, I found the blog of Brad Zellar. This is just what I needed tonight. I have no idea who he is (probably not anyone of perceived worldly importance, because even Wikipedia doesn’t know who he is), but he writes beautifully, and he writes what’s in my heart.
The world can do whatever it wants with you. Don’t hesitate. It can all go so quickly, everything, and then you’ll be left alone in the dark with a television, trying to either forget or remember your dreams, depending on how far along you are in the process of evaporating.
There is a darkness in what he writes, but also a quiet hope. And this, along with Bob Evans, is perfect for moving me out of my funk this evening.
Tomorrow will be more happy and less mopey. Really.