So tired

 I feel exhausted. My job is incredibly draining and I feel like I'm walking on eggshells trying to not fuck up anything else, yet I keep doing so. It's exhausting to deal with, feeling constantly like you're screwing something up or forgetting something because you don't have the tools to accurately track things. I don't like this position, it doesn't suit me, and rather than move me into something else, I think they're more likely to just terminate me all together. Which, is fine. I have savings and unemployement at this point which will help. But I don't really want to look for another job just yet. That whole process is hell, and almost as bad as this job in general. 

Its the not knowing, the anxiety and the feeling like a shoe is about to drop at any moment that is draining me. It doesn't help that my boss is terrible at her job, at least terrible in managing me, but that isn't unexpected, most managers get there via experience and failing up rather than expertise in how to manage people. 

I'm just so so tired of everything. Life is exhausting and I'd much rather just sleep for the remaining 30 years or so of my life. Just, let me sleep forever, I'm so tired of being forced to do this shit under the threat of starvation/homelessness.

So what's taking so long.

 In lieu of being able to come up with a clever title for a new blog, I'm back here for now.

My summer hasn't been good. I'm alive, but it feels like a struggle. I write now because it feels like something I should do stave off the worst of it. I feel trapped in this terrible job being forced to take on more and more work until it becomes untenable. I'm sure, normal people could do this, but it feels so overwhelming. 

They say to take time off, but I just, can't. There's so much up in the air, that I might need that later on if I end up moving. Moving that I have to do because of this job. They pay me just enough to force me to move but not enough to move comfortably, almost as if by design. 

Which, I knew going in. I just thought I'd have figured something out by now. I wanted to cry by 9am on Thursday, I did cry at 2pm today. I came close to quitting but a coworker suggested talking to my boss about changing roles. 

But, I don't see any other possibilities and I doubt they'll have other roles I can just move into. I've seen them burn through so many people, and seen so many people leave it just seems like something they do. I put in a few other applications since all the talk is about how good the job market is now, but job hunting for me has always been a nightmare, and this is, sadly, still the highest paying job I've ever had at the mid 50s. I'm 36, with a masters degree in a marketable field. Another woman on the team just turned 36 and is selling her house. '

She doesn't have my struggles, but the comparisons highlight the differences. 

I'm also very isolated, from friends, and moreso from community. I haven't been able to really go and mingle with old friends and acquaintances at all, and I feel really alone. That sense of shared bonding that other queer folk have, people who's faces I remember but don't have their phone number. 

The routine and grind is killing me. I am not able to do keep doing this five days a week over and over again. There's just, nothing in it. It's just, paying rent and treading water. Buying time waiting for my ship to come in, and it's starting to feel like it isn't going to come and I just give up and let the sea take me. 

I forgot my suicidal humor doesn't always go over the same in different circles, and I think, worried a few people. Maybe it was reaching out for help, I don't know. I didn't know how to accept their help so I brushed it off, as one does. 

Everything just feels so meaningless, my work is utterly without consequence. We spent 5 hours workshoping and email response to a client who was upset over  returning 15$ of expired product back to their warehouse. It's petty, stupid, irrelevant bullshit. It is meaningless, and I am utterly alienated from it. My boss thinks I'll enjoy it because I'll get thanks for handling emails from co-workers. I do not. I play chess at work, I browse reddit, I do anything I can to not do my job because it is tedious, unengaging and unchallenging. Many companies have automated tools already to do this task. I have a woman babysitting me, who refuses to answer simple questions because she either doesn't hear me, or is too stupid to understand the question. 

I wished her back 10x the frustration and irritation she has inflicted on me as I made dinner. I need a new job. I need to do something as I haven't been this claustrophobic in a while, and the walls feel like their closing in. I don't do well when I feel trapped, I panic and then I get angry and then sad. Until the sadness just becomes everything. Until the anger returns as desperation and the self harm starts again and yadda yadda yadda. 

So we're at the suicide memes stage, the r/2meirl4meirl stage, the joke about not having a reason to not kill yourself stage. I tend to forget that doesn't sit as well with everyone since I've been in it a while. Some friends understand it, and others grow concerned, or worse irritated at it. 

I think about the grotesqueness of it all. How long would I decay before they found me, would anyone notice? Sure they would, eventually. But how long? probably after I started to smell. Would I care? I could put trash bags down to make it easier to clean. Just an idea I guess. 

Last weekend I off handily said I felt like the side character in someone else's life. My life feels like a pointless exercise of futility. A warning sign of what they would show more privileged children happens to those who are cursed with being trans. How many years of our life we lose and waste to learning how to cope, to trying to deny, to trying to tolerate and understand why we feel the way we do. How much time and money we miss out on, how little you can amount to because your fundamental coping mechanisms will be broken and you tune out of your own life because it has convinced you that happiness and good things can't be trusted. That the most fundamental and core belief you have is that you can't trust anything because your own fucking body betrayed you and who you are. But who can you blame outside of yourself? Who can you point to and ask to apologize? So you take the lesson, and you make it the pillar to which you stand, that you can't trust anyone, you can't trust happiness because it's fleeting, and anything that does make you happy, must be fickle, else why would you be happy. Never get too attached to the idea of things turning out well, or risk disappointment, a sin only matched by its own naivete.

Get busy living, or get busy dying. I feel like I've been dying for 26 years.

If you hadn't noticed by now, I always write the title last.