The last two weeks I was working some variation of about six hours at my day job, sitting in D.C. traffic for about an hour or so and then working about five hours of my part-time theater gigs before another hour to get home most days. Starting at about 9, coming home between 10:30 and just after midnight. It was more than usual for sure, but even doing that once or twice a week regularly can take a toll on you.
On top of that, I had a couple interviews for some jobs at those theaters where I’ve been working that didn’t work out. Both would have been for such small amounts of money I wouldn’t have been able to quit my day job. When neither job worked out, it wasn’t the end of the world, but I was still tired and unhappy.
Last Wednesday I made a dumb mistake at one of my jobs where I clearly upset the people I was working for, and I just all the sudden felt like a walking dumpster fire, like I’ll never have a “real” job and I’m completely unemployable, and to put it bluntly, I started thinking about suicide again. Which I knew at the time was a complete overreaction and nonsensical, but that’s where my brain went. It didn’t leave my head fully for almost a week. I had been going for a long time not having those thoughts when I first got home, and then starting in about August they started to get more and more frequent, and this past week was a long stretch of feeling shitty. Not the longest or worst even this year, but not great.
I didn’t miss any work. No one but my family and close friends knew anything was up. But I was pretty much going to bed and waking up in tears.
I started thinking about how I had been treating myself, and what I could do to make myself happier. It occurred to me that these side theater jobs, as much as I enjoy them sometimes, were not really investments that were benefiting me in the long haul. They weren’t making me enough money to move out of my parents’ house, or much of anything at all when you account for getting there and parking and the money I was spending on dinner in D.C. because I couldn’t eat beforehand with traffic. They weren’t leading me somewhere I wanted to go, but they were draining me emotionally and physically.
So I did a thing which I still think was maybe dumb and I quit. Well, I quit one. One is going to not have any work for me for awhile now anyway. And then I went out for ice cream with dear lovely Natalie, and I explained to her that I have had an untreated yeast infection for about a month and a half now and I just haven’t had time to go to a doctor. So she said, “You know you can get treatment for that over the counter right? Here, let’s go to CVS.”
So Natalie took me to CVS and I bought over-the-counter treatment for my yeast infection and we watched Bridget Jones’s Baby. And you know, it was not the best movie in the world, but it was alright. And I haven’t cried since I quit, and I have a few appointments with career coaches lined up for the next couple weeks to talk about My Future, and, as the season three tagline of Girls read, I am Almost Kind Of Getting It Together.
This is a long way of saying that I know I haven’t been posting that much since June, but I’m going to try to do better about in the future. I really feel infinitely better when I blog, and unless you count the copiously long emails I send to people on a daily basis — you’re welcome, people — I haven’t really been writing that much lately and it’s upsetting to me. You see, this blog is my Mark Darcy, and we may go through periods where you wonder whether we’ll ever make it, but ultimately you know without even seeing the film that we’re going to end up together in the end, because that’s the way it always works, the way it should work, and the way it was meant to be.