I’m not really sure if I want to make any of my journal public, but I will for now. I’ve always found comfort in talking to people about my troubles in life. I don’t always need an answer, I just need a listening ear (or in this case a watchful eye?).
I’m in love. With a great man. But we’re both at such frustrating points in our lives that I’m worried our prime time together will have passed us by when we are finally ready to move on to the next stage.
Due to unforseen circumstances, I’m living with my parents right now and I hate it. I feel like I’m sixteen again and I can’t leave the house without notifying my family where I am or who I am going with. I’m almost thirty by the way. I pay my own bills and finances and yet I’m still lectured when “there’s no peanut butter.” What. The. Fuck.
I’m currently in the process of trying to figure out my direction. I thought I had it. I thought I had it down. When I graduated I knew where I was going and how to get there. I got a perfect job, great place, perfect distance, actually felt like my life was stable. However I had the worst boss. In the span of less than a year, all staff members have been replaced. Over a year and they are still continuing to lose staff and hire new unsuspecting employees into a truly hostile work environment. Employees bullied, verbally abused, thrown under the bus, harassed, and yet even my complaint with HR (backed up by 3 fellow ex-coworkers and multiple witnesses) did nothing. I quit before they had the chance to fire me. My boss had convinced me that I wasn’t worthy of my job. So I quit. Because I felt she was right.
I honestly felt lost. I still feel lost. My confidence is honestly shattered and I feel like I quit because I was too cowardly to fight her and call her out. I feel like I walked out of there with my tail in-between my legs. That she had won. I know it’s not true but… sometimes…
So here I am. Back home. My time spent cleaning, cooking, working part time at a coffeeshop, and helping my Mother out with my disabled Grandmother. I’m ready to move out, but financially I’m still pretty stuck. I’m giving myself until July to save up to move out. If not, I’ll just commit myself to a nunnery and live out the rest of my depressing life there.
No, not a real nunnery. But living with a certain relative who is even more paranoid than my parents, cries when I don’t return her calls because she thinks I’ve died or hate her, won’t leave me alone during my anxiety attacks (she will follow me and yell at me), and generally is very… suffocating.
Honestly a real nunnery would be more appealing but I don’t consider myself a devout person.
Thanks for reading.