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Mere Puppet on a String…

I feel like a puppet on a string being pulled and directed by so very many people in my life….I know its all well intended advice; I know it’s all meant to help facilitate me into making a healthy decision….


I am pretty sure I figured out the cause, which eluded me all of Saturday and most of Sunday, as to why I was incapable of stopping myself from crying this weekend. Aside from Friday night, which was great (there will be another post about the fictional family invented along with other goodies) I could not stop crying for two days straight.

Saturday afternoon, while shopping in the mall with a girlfriend, I was on the verge of a complete, very public, nervous breakdown. I had to get out of there (I kept visualizing me picking up all the shoes on the display racks and throwing them violently in the store while screaming obscenities) I had to get home (where I could unleash into a full fledged fuck- the- world rant) and I had to be alone, immediately.

All the stress I try to avoid dealing with, or brush off as just a part of life, hit me. It hit me hard. My stress had to come out, and boy did it ever, in the form of salted wet face syndrome. I cried for so long, I cried over everything. I cried because regrettably, I still depend on Mom n Dad so much. I cried because I feel like every force/person other than me is in control of me. I feel like everyone wants something from me, and I have nothing to give. I cried because I am still single. I cried over my job, the amount of work I have to do on a daily basis with no relief. I cried about being alone and being tired. I cried because I used to be fearless, when these days, I find that I am afraid of everything. I cried when I see and / or read about other people who seem to have the life I want. I cried because at 16 I was so ahead of the game, but I didn’t do anything productive with that time until I was 28, now, I am far behind. I cried because I want so much to have the time I need to study, read, (maybe even go back to school?) and learn how become a writer, not just an insurance professional. (Megalomaniac side of me says I do have a story(s) to tell, a good one(s), if told properly I can /will be a writer one day) Then, I cried in a good way, when I remembered to be grateful to have the friends and family that worry and care so much about helping me. I cried, and cried, and cried.

When Mom and Dad came over on Sunday night to witness my miserable display, they agreed to help me (AGAIN) as long as I agreed to do something on my part…which includes looking for a new job… One that will pay me what I am worth.

umm….er, uh… okay?……

When talking with mom-n-dad I was feeling OKAY about the idea of maybe leaving and getting a new job. I was even angry with my boss for not paying me what I am worth and taking advantage of the fact that he knows he can use the shit out of me and get all he can from me without paying me much…I was FIRED UP about leaving….

So, I agreed to make an attempt. At least to put together a portfolio to include a resume and letters of recommendation from insurance companies with which I have been lucky to develop relationships with over the last four years of my employment. I decided to put on the gloves, follow the instructions given by mom n dad, lace-up and get back into the ring and TRY to take some control over my situation.

The next day, I secretly emailed THIS letter to some of the company people I developed a good working relationship with:

Good morning,
I’m asking for your assistance. I am currently updating my portfolio and ask if you could provide a letter of reference on my behalf. A letter from you would enhance my resume exponentially, and I would be very grateful for your support.I would also appreciate it if you would forward any correspondence on this matter to my home email address as listed below. If it’s not too much trouble and you agree to do this, please send the original to my home mailing address
Thank you for your consideration. Best personal regards.

-I also recruited personal friends to help with the direction / shape of my resume.

-I received positive responses back from all of the companies I inquired for assistance and they agreed to join forces in providing me a shinny new pretty and sell-able portfolio.

All was rolling well in the direction of me leaving my job. Mom-n-Dad would be happy-n-proud and I’d be out of their pockets….

Then, suddenly, while going forth with the “I’m leaving” attitude… I had an unsettling ball of nerves that began writhing in my stomach. This ball of knots was making me sicker than I was all weekend long.


Nope! That ball-o-sickness is just my instincts talking, screaming and shouting at me. As much as I have ignored/disregarded them in the past, I have since learned to TRUST and LISTEN to them.

Yes, I do deserve more money, I work hard, I earned it, but no, I am NOT ready to leave. I did not sleep a wink last night, at the prospect of going through with leaving. I laid awake coughing (upper respiratory infection) and thinking.

Even though I am disconcerted with my current paycheck situation, I do not want to leave here either…because, I am NOT ready. It is that simple.

It is NOT because I can ware slippers. It’s not because when JCH’s school is closed for 3 weeks I can bring him to work with me. It is not because I can instant message, email, or blog while I am here. It’s not because I like my boss, or because I love the people I work with, or even that I love what I do (my actual job) and it’s not because I love that I get to see my father everyday at the office.

My mother recently said to me, “You are getting so ahead of yourself; you can’t be on chapter six, if you haven’t read chapters 1-5.”

I know that… what’s more, I agree, whole heartedly.

The problem is my mom-n-dad think I am on chapter six, (when it comes to my employment) but I KNOW I am really still only on chapter four…

I know they are sick of helping, rightfully-so, I am sick of asking or needing their help, I am just as frustrated as my parents are.

I am sorry I am only on Chapter Four. I wish I was on chapter six too that was in part a reason for the cry fest. Me, kicking at a door, that isn’t ready to come down. Thankfully, my cry fest, also lead me to realize and accept my own limitations as they stand.

Sometimes these limitations mean I will still need their help. I didn’t get it together as an adult until later than most, yes; I am behind in the game. I was on drugs and drunk from ages 11-27, I have only been healthy for 4 years. It’s impossible to think or demand more than I am able to deliver at this moment in my life.

At least I am in the game…right?

Can’t I do another year at Global? MAYBE! Can’t I do one more year, practicing being a real professional instead of coming into work in slippers? YES! Can’t I come up with a crafty argument for my boss come review / raise time? YES! Didn’t I finally get the CS order finalized and executed? YES! Will I get off their payroll one day? YES! Do I need help just a little bit longer? YES!

I promise I will proceed with putting together a resume. I promise I will proceed with collecting letters from company people about how great they think I am at my job. I promise I will LOOK into other prospects, I can NOT promise I will leave until I KNOW I am ready.

I won’t skip a chapter.

Fortunately I do not need to make a decision today. I hope to have a clear head within the next few days and start to figure out what I am going to do for the rest of my life (or at least how I am going to make the money I need to support myself).

I’m sick of being held by a Marinette…

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