Swimming Against the Current

I feel trapped in this job. Whatever I do, it is just never good enough. And the people who have to “approve” of my design don’t know what the hell they are doing. I just hate it here. It makes me physically ill having to show up here every day. I am absolutely exhausted after trying so hard to make the best of it. I wish so bad it were Friday.

At the same time, I feel like I am just not qualified to work anywhere else, and that I had better stay here because I have good insurance coverage which I will need in case I have to have one more operation. Part of me secretly wishes that I would get laid off so that I would simply not have to come in here anymore. This is not the rational part of me who considers finances and other “perks” of this job, of course. Everything about it is good except for the actual work that I do. Which isn’t saying much, really.

How do I stay sane by leaving a place I despise each day, only to return home to a place of solitude and chaos (because I am a clutter queen)? That is easy. I don’t stay sane. And it is probably evident within five minutes of speaking with me. I can only imagine what my co-workers think after spending eight hours a day with me in the office.

I about lost it today when Loud Typer was morphing into BeatingTheKeyboard Typer, so I finally said something. It was so annoying because I was trying to talk to someone else, and Loud Typer was banging really hard as if he were trying to get someone’s attention. I looked over at him, watching him being so aloof to the rest of his environment and those in earshot, and asked him, “What are you doing??” He took his headphone out (obviously part of the problem) and said, “What?” I repeated my question and he said, “Just modifying a product page” or something like that. I said, “You sound angry over there” and he did not respond. Just kept banging away. I figured that’s the type of response I’d get.

I feel like my brain is bleeding. I think about so many things at once that I just can’t accommodate anything after a while. I feel under-appreciated, under-stimulated, laughed at, talked about, rejected, and overall disliked by the majority of my work peers (which is really just a few people). It could all be in my head, but that is how I feel. I feel like my supervisor does not trust me with important things and anything he does trust me with, he has to hold my hand through it and double and triple-check everything I do for quality control.

I have become so lazy at this job. I was not this way when I began almost 4 (ugh) years ago. I cannot believe I have spent almost four years here. It makes me sick thinking about it. But at least it hasn’t been 20. If my income and insurance were not so important, I would have left a long time ago. Like two weeks after starting.

Maybe I just need a hug.

The burn. It woke me up this morning; this weighty feeling in the pit of my stomach, followed by an internal scream that it was only Thursday and time to go to work again. It carried itself from my stomach on to my arms and legs, and then my heart. And then my face.

This was a burn I had not felt in a while. It alternated from limb to limb, organ to organ, bouncing from my brain to another part of my body like a pinball machine. My brain would think something and the burn would follow. Brain, burn. Brain, burn.

By now, I am confused. Then I feel my mood souring. I literally felt the corners of my mouth sag downward. I drudgingly got in my car and drove to work. In silence. No radio. No window down.

I arrived at work and sat in my chair. By now, I was burning all over on the inside. Loud Typer arrived three minutes earlier and was already gracing the office with his over-achievement, which is only masked with either ear plugs or an iPod on full volume.

Soon the burn stayed concentrated in my face, and I must have looked like the saddest person in the office. Notice I said “sad” and not “sick.” By now, you must be wondering if I’d woken up with the flu. No; in fact, I’m healthier than I have been in a long time.

Most of the time, my life of solitude is not a problem. I live alone, I sleep alone, I work alone (I might as well, anyway…. I share an office with non-talkers with exception to Loud Typer/Loud Breather), I work out alone, I drive alone. It is so rare that someone rides in the car with me when I drive, that it actually feels very awkward to me when it does happen.

Then there are the days where I feel the burn. Interesting how “burn” rhymes with “yearn.” It is also interesting that I am mid-cycle which means I have ovulated. Ovulation does a number of things to a woman besides spit out an egg that is waiting to be fertilized by the most competitive sperm. It reminds a woman that she is alone. Ovulation creates a strong desire to be with somebody. Not just sexually, either. And if she does not share this experience with the presence of a partner, she will find a substitute partner that will suit her for the time being.

Every woman has a unique substitute partner that she finds, be it shopping, drinking, drugs, sleeping, or random sex partners. Mine is food. Now I am at the point where I have to decide if I wish to sabotage all that I have been working for these last few weeks just to satisfy this burn that keeps circulating through my being endlessly. The answer should be obvious, but it isn’t easy.

I understand that God created us this way. It was part of His master plan to create the woman’s body in such a way that she would be well aware of when it was time to conceive. Of course He would make it so she is at her peak sexually at that time of the month, that her desires would be heightened, her thoughts would be racing, her body would be relentlessly burning, and her quest for partnership would continue with or without her participation.

But what about when you’re alone? And there will be no conception? No union? No partnership? None of the above?

Today I had my second ultrasound since my last surgery, and things looked really great! I was so excited! I still am excited! The technician told me that “unoffically,” everything looks clear. She even said my ovaries look better than they did last time.

I am so happy that I found Dr. Robbins and was privileged enough to have him do my surgery. I honestly believe he changed the course of my life and saved me from multiple, painful operations and unnecessary medical intervention. How do you thank a person for something like that?

All of a sudden, everything began to look good to me today. I was relaxed as I drove from the medical center to my work. I had my window down and felt the wind blowing on my face. It is sunny and beautiful outside, as if God was smiling down on me as He released me from the grief and anxiety that once enveloped me in the clutches of endometriosis. I surely was not expecting better news than before. At the very minimum, I thought everything would be the same as last time, which was not bad, either. But to be even better?

I think somewhere along the way, I may have forgotten how to process true happiness. There is a part of my brain that releases an automatic dose of skepticism whenever positive neurons are galloping through my vast mental field of thoughts and dreams. When happiness comes along, all of these questions marks are raised. “What is this? Is this real? What do we do with this?,” my neurons ask. My brain isn’t used to it. How sad that a brain can become accustomed to processing cynical, negative information, and when positive information comes along, it is almost like a foreign language being spoken.

I still have the ability to feel happy, however! I still know how it feels to be blessed and given a gift! I feel refreshed and vivacious. I almost feel like calling the doctor now and telling him that he will receive a good report! Maybe I will. I’m sure it is a good day when he hears how well someone is doing as a result of him utilizing his skill and talent.

Here’s to hoping the rest of the week will remain bright and sunny!