This past day or so I’ve been fluctuating between restlessness and boredom, yet also debating back and forth if going out is worth it. It’s not helping one bit that it snowed quite a lot today. I can’t put all the blame on the shit weather as the reason why I’ve been staying in lately. Even making plans to go out causes me to question the validity of it all. Like, am I going out to kill time because I don’t want to be a hermit, or is this something I want to do to enjoy the day? Do I even deserve to have fun? Am I dragging myself to an event to force myself to be social, or am I going to have a good time even if I hardly talk to anyone there? Am I wasting money by using my MetroCard to ride the subway?
Yesterday I was having a freak out (again) about needing to phone the office about my job application status. It went like this: Woke up to my alarm at 9:30 AM. Stayed awake in bed for at least 15 more minutes contemplating life. Hopped out of bed. Brushed teeth and took a swig of water. Sat down in my chair and stared at the phone screen. Took some deep breaths and mumbled about how I’ve called before and that if I did this in the past, I can do this. As soon as someone picked up, I lost my voice and hung up. Mission aborted. I decided to wait a few more minutes before attempting to call again because I felt paranoid about whether the person would be able to guess I was the one who just hung up on her. I focused on getting a neat row of six cross stitches done on my latest embroidery project before I set it down and dialed again. Much like my previous calls, after I stated my need to know whether I’ve been selected for an interview or not, I was about to be transferred to the Human Resources department. Before I was, I tentatively asked if anyone would be there to pick up if I was transferred to the extension since the past two times I kept getting their answering machine. The lady was kind enough to suggest she could leave a physical note at the department. She took down my name and number. I got the answering machine again upon being transferred and left message #3 for Megan. I will really be at my wit’s end if the Human Resources office personnel continues to ignore me after this.
I don’t know what I’m truly feeling now. It’s like a perpetual melancholy about life in general, or the agony of perceiving I haven’t accomplished anything lately, though I am aware that’s far from the truth. Or am I just moody right now because I’m on my period? Everything I do always feels embarrassing. Maybe it’s because even when I do get stuff done, I am overtly self-conscious about sharing my experiences with my family and friends. Even telling someone I am thinking about doing something or am in the process of something is incredibly hard. Often the words feel like a lump in my throat I can’t dislodge.
Some days ago I filled out an online application for a position at the United States Postal Office. I was on the lookout for open positions after my mom suggested working for the post office would not be so bad. She herself had the opportunity to work for them at one time many years ago, but though she passed their exam, she ultimately turned it down because she didn’t want to work the night shift while pregnant. I got an email with an invitation to take an online assessment for the job position. The second part of the assessment is to take their exam at a physical location. I scheduled it for next Tuesday at 2 PM. During dinner last night, I did manage to tell my mom about it. I almost didn’t even say anything; mostly because I felt so troubled about bringing it up. Anything I might’ve contributed to the conversation prior to my big reveal felt like nothing like I was just talking to give the false impression of normalcy.
I did feel better after telling her. We even talked more about the exam and her experiences with it. It’s good that I confided in my mom. I know it’s a good thing and I recognize that. But like any time I verbally open up to my family, I also fight the feeling of vulnerability. So, a part of me thinks opening up to people is bad because being vulnerable is bad. It also depends on my comfort level with the person. I’m more uncomfortable holding conversation with my brother than I am with my parents. Why I feel such discomfort around him is complicated. It has more to do with my anxiety and the beliefs I have about myself that I assume he believes about me. Which is crazy, I know.