I hate this feeling that not only am I tired of living my life, but the people around me are tired of me. We seem to go down the same roads, over and over again, but they never seem to lead us anywhere. Today my therapist suggested trying a different road altogether, and I will, but until I see where that one goes (read: results), I will be in this ruminating, in-between state, as I am with my job situation.
As a result of this feeling, my sense of reality seems off. Are my friends really my friends? Am I going about this the right way? Worse, sometimes I question whether or not any of this is actually happening, again, like my sense of reality itself seems whacked.
Wow reality is brutal.
Let’s focus on what’s real: my aunt is real. My sister is real (and I am defining “real” as what they actually seem to be – no possible alternative agenda or motive). My best friend is real. Actually, come to think of it, what I am really saying is that the familiar is real to me, because it defined itself long ago. These new characters, these new situations; this search for a new job with no indication as to whether I’m going about it the right way or if I will get there is what is off.
That, unfortunately, will only change when I get a new job and settle into a “new normal.” This is not normal. This is limbo. A holding pattern. A place I am damned to until I figure out what direction I’m going in next. That is why the “real” things in my life are important – they are the only things I am fighting for. I want to get back into a position where I can truly enjoy those real people and real things about my life.