Be Open to New Doors and New Doors will Appear

Now that I once again have stabilized on meds (generously donated to me until I can get this COBRA shit straightened out) I can return to my normal, optimistic self. I still haven't heard from the restaurant owner/manager who explicity told me that he wanted to hire me and then proceeded to cease communication. Yes, I would love to work there. It will give me insight into an industry in which I want to enter. But, I also have to make sure girlfriend can make ends meet... To that effect, I sent out a few email responses to Craigslist ads and, surprisingly, received a few sincere responses. On of which was not even on my radar screen until I saw the ad, but now presents itself as a really positive opportunity. So, I guess what I'm learning from this experience is that I need to ward off that (unmedicated) feeling that I am behind a locked metal door with no options, to realize there are options aplenty, above and beyond and exceeding my expectations. It's easy to fall into the pit of despair that I am sentened to poverty and pain. But once I allow the option of success and bounty to enter into my life, it can come to be. More will be known once I have the "official" interview on Tuesday. But with all options on the table, I'm feeling pretty hopeful that at least one will return on investment.

I Dare You

I HATE people who dismiss mental illness as "craziness" or medical treatments as "quackery." I, of all people. am sceptical of the western-paradigm of medicine. For example, the name brand of the medicine prescribed to me costs $565. The generic is $120. Not all that accesible for many suffering from mental illness... Here's the thing - mental illness is a THING. It's not something you can get over or think yourself out of or be better or stronger than. I have been raised to "push yourself 110% and then ten steps further." I got all A's in school and if I didn't I was sad. I graduated Phi Betta Kappa, Magna Cum Laude. I am NOT a slacker and I am NOT a loser. I am NOT a beggar eating out of trash cans. But I could be. This last week, my COBRA reimbursement hadn't come through. And a job offer was put on hold. Balanced, I could have dealt with this as unfortunately but a reason to just pull together my resources and Git Er Done. Unfortunately, I couldn't affort my meds until today. And yesterday, I found myself crying, scared and in bed. I didn't shower. I didn't put in my contacts. It wasn't a day I was proud of. But there wasn't much else I could do. Today, I managed to get up, get showered, and get to my doctors' appointments. I was "off" but I knew I needed help. And help I got. My doctor offered me some samples until I could afford my prescription. And then, in the parking lot, I took my meds. Not five hours later, I've sent in four applications for part time jobs, envision a cover letter for a position that could be truly awesome and come to the realization that the original offer might not be off the table but just not a priority right now. In short, I am functioning on a rational and clear level. I would love to say it's because I read a chapter of Thich Nat Han during lunch and took a yoga class after. But I know it's because the stuff that makes up my brain is being helped out by some chemical help. Mental issues - mental illness - isn't a made up thing. It's not an excuse. I am strong and intelligent and driven and ambitious. But I also have a brain that needs crutches when I get a mental shin splint. Tonight, I will go to sleep and know that I will wake up tomorrow - maybe a bit tired - but defintitely ready to get up and get out of bed.

Grow a Pair

So, I've believed for several weeks that I had landed a gig at a local, fantastic, restaurant. I believed so when the owner/manager sent me an email saying: "I definitely want to hire you. Let's meet - Wednesday OK for you?" The restaurant opens on Thursday. I called Friday. I called Saturday. I called today. Twice. If he's changed his mind, OK. I mean, I'm pissed b/c all signs pointed to jobby job and I turned down not one but two other positions. And the courteous thing to do would be to give a call and say, No Thanks. Or if it's still in the works, call and say, I'm swamped, I'll call soon and we can figure out logistics. It's the business version of He's Just Not Into You. Except this could mean living off $50 a week or having enough money to occasionaly fill up my gas tank. So, yeah, I'm effing pissed. And applying for other summer positions. DUDE - grow a pair and call me back.

Warning: Sappiness Ahead

Tonight was the Cape Ann Farmers' Market fundraiser. It's the second fundraiser I've been "responsible" for this month. And now I'm suffering the let-down effect. What is really making me teary-eyed is this: a year ago,all these people were strangers. I felt out of place and a stranger at the same event. This year, I had plenty of people to talk to and had no problem introducing myself to more. I shared jokes with neighbors and shared many hugs and many laughs. Yes, I'm worried about money. I haven't had confirmation about the part-time gig. If I don't get it, the reality is, I can't make ends meet on unemployment alone. So, i"m concerned. At the same time, I know that so many wonderful people and wonderful things have wandered into my life since I broke free from the chains of Corporate America that things will work out. If you asked me today if I would go back, the answer would be clearly NO, I feel fulfilled and happy and supported and know that when I get teary, it's for all the right reasons. I believe strongly and wholly in the power of being open to the Universe and its power. So, I will believe that I will get the gig I'm hoping for and, if not, will find another suitable gig. In the meantime, I will revel in the community and the environment I have found. I will cry when I need to and laugh at every possible emotion. I am blessed and proud to be a part of organizations that make our town and our life a better place to live. I am priveleged to be part of the community that makes those organizations possible. And, above all, I am in awe of the people that these organizations have introdued me to. When you give it, you get it. It's true, I believe it, and 'nuff said. PS - I got four free bottles of wine...

Waaaaaay TMI - NSFW

For those who follow my blog (and, honestly, there's probably not many of you), if you woudl prefer not to know, ahem, personal matters then leave right now. But I feel this blog is a chance for me to share the ups and downs of an ex-Corporate slave, bi-polar dork who is on the cusp of finding her own happiness. And that comes in all sorts of flavors. I have been dating Handsome Man for almost a year. And while I love him and think he's one of the most caring indivuals I've ever met, he's not, as one could say, a mighty lover. He's older. He's not in the greatest shape of his life. And I have the distinct impression that hes 1) been alone so long and 2) watched so much pRon that real life doesn't really "do it." So, okay. But you have to realize this comes on the heels of Good Buddy. 'Nuff said. Here's where it gets interesting. I haven't been able to fill my prescription for my anti-depressant (see COBRA sux). This isn't the major "crazy pill" that keeps me from wantiing to kill myself. But it is the pill that was, as they say, stifling my libido. So, until Wed, I'm feeling ... frisky. And H.M. isn't up for the task. So the time has come for me to wonder: 1) is it better to feel slightly "off" but want to F*** Handsome Man (and/or fantasize about GoodBuddy and various and sundry others) or 2) is it better to be totally "normal" and face the reality that in the rare occoasions H.M. feels amorous it isn't going to be ... truly satisfying. I guess the question boils down to: physical or mental happiness? Can I find enough reasons to get up in the morning to merit the physical reaction? Or will I regress into the state where even putting laundry away felt too overwhelming a task? The choice, on paper, seems clear. But in reality, not so much. After all, you can wear clothes straight out of the laundry basket. They may be wrinkel but they're clean...