I know you are supposed to be careful what you post online because it will be there forever and possibly the whole world can see it. If you wouldn’t say it in a crowd of strangers then you shouldn’t say it online. However, at the moment I feel a little heart sick.  I think that if I were standing in a crowd of strangers that if they would listen I would talk.

It isn’t exactly one thing that is weighing on me. In fact things should be looking good in my life right now. Tonight is the last night at my, to pay the bills, job for a week and the kids have a long weekend. I am up to date on the bills and while I do still have to buy groceries, I should have a little left over to do something fun with the kids while they are out of school.

So why do I feel like crawling under my bed, building a blanket fort, and staying there?  Well, I a sure part of it is the anxiety depression talking. I know that and yet I can’t just make it go away by simply knowing that it is causing problems.

Another part of it is that I got into an argument at work and thoroughly lost my temper. It has been a stressful week. The boss was on vacation, the pharmacy practically imploded, and there has just been one minor crisis after another. Then one of my co-workers decided to confront me because another co-worker told him I got upset because he left an hour early the day before. It was true. I did get upset. Instead of sticking around for his assigned hours, I felt like he pushed the whole mess into my lap and left me to deal with it alone. There was a ton of work to be done and from what I could see he hadn’t even attempted it.

From his point of view, it had been the day from hell and he just wanted out. I do understand that. It has been that kind of week. However, I still do not think it was wise to pull me to the side the next day and attempt to give me a lecture over why I should not have been upset.

People are entitled to feelings. Yes, I was upset. But I continued to do my job, had a good rant while in the office, and then tucked it away because there were more important things to do. By the next day I was over it…until the lecture began. Then it was all new and fresh, no sleep with a side of pissed off.

The fact that he tried to justify himself by bringing up my own faults was just gasoline to the fire. Shaking and teary-eyed I had to turn and walk away before I did something that my boss would have had to fire me for. (The fact that the co-worker in question is over a decade younger than me and over a foot taller didn’t help matters.)

The boss was back the next morning and took care of matters but she had a sudden death in the family so she is off again on bereavement. The death happened around the same time as the argument with my co-worker.

I talk to customers at work, turn on the t.v. at home, or pick up a paper, and all I see is a world gone mad with too many people hurting themselves and others. I hate it. I want to fix it but I don’t know how. All I can do is write about it. I can write out my hurts, that are so insignificant to the larger ones like losing a loved one. I can unburden my heart with words on paper.

It doesn’t really help the world, but it does help me deal with it and keep moving. Maybe if more people could unburden themselves in a similar fashion the world wouldn’t be as tied in knots as it is.

Published by: thecoffeefox

Once upon a time there was a woman who was a writer. She was either cursed or blessed from birth to be so and there was much debate on which it was. One day a very discouraging (and not very original) person told her not to give up her day job. The woman smiled and said that was a wonderful idea. Following the unwittingly clever advice of her critic, the woman found a job working nights, which left her days free to write. Even better, the night job had an unusual schedule which packed two weeks worth of work into one, so the writer was able to have every other week off to sit on her front porch, daydream, and of course write. However, working at night and writing during the day left little time for sleep, so the poor writer occasionally went a little mad, but she decided it was an acceptable price to pay to be able to continue following her curse-blessing. Also she likes tea. :)

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