All the King’s Horses

Its been a while. It’s been the kind of a while that stirs up a “get stuff off your chest” post…It’s been a maelstrom of meditations, medical problems, friendship fallout, and catching myself in symptomatic behavior. To be honest I’m still being carried by the swirl. I know I’ve written about this before, my difficulty with relationships and BPD, but things have come to such a screaming apex that I thought it might be time I wrote out just how it feels being this socially inept.

Firstly, my long suffering relationship with DG has come to an end. He’s no longer in my life. He moved on, found new friends, and is happy as a clam from what I gather. Its rubbed in my face to be honest. It’s a cycle that’s become overly familiar over the years, simply because there is a clear cut pattern that replays with every relationship. There are a few obvious phases that sometimes overlap and sometimes come alone and fierce.

Anna Karenina

This is the phase of pure paranoia. Things will be going along swimmingly until we spy a tiny, probably meaningless and unintentional hint and spend hours trying to decipher the meaning. We weave these thoughts into an ever increasing web of certainties that may or may not have any basis in reality. Consequently, by acting insecure and suspicious, we push away the very people we fear losing.  Like Anna Karenina,  the smallest signs of being abandoned take hold with a ferocity painting only visions of endings that no reassurances can overcome. While those feelings led her to suicidal resignation, I’m trying to reason my way out of mine.

Humpty Dumpty
The big one with BPD that I can tell you is happening for me right now is the cycle of putting someone on a pedestal (idealization) and then just as quickly, after whatever trigger occurs, feeling nothing for them or even worse, feeling anger toward them (devaluation). I can tell you that I had no idea I was doing this until the pedestal broke, but looking back, this person’s word was gospel to me, every opinion the totality of truth. Now that the break has occurred, all I can see are the fractures left over from the fall.  People are angels or devils with no in between. It’s a hard way to see the world and it’s never made an appearance so strongly with me as it is now after DG. Even Though I recognize what’s happening as symptomatic, I can’t stop the feelings from overwhelming me.

I’m no longer fairest in the land, it’s Snow White.

Here comes the anger and the jealousy. The view is extremely selfish… everyone wants to be favored; to think they’re the closest, the most important…but when the illusion is broken, it’s a long way down to the concrete. This comes into play when you are no longer the center of attention like you once were. It comes with the inevitable pulling away that comes with every friendship whether it be the arrival of a significant other, new friend, new co-workers, whatever the new and exciting thing may be. We feel replaced, no longer good enough (that is if we don’t have the solid self esteem to show us otherwise – which we usually don’t). So, my friend found a new friend. Most people deal with this in a healthy way hanging out with other people who want their company. Focusing so much the one perfect person, however, made that impossible. In the all or nothing thinking, there is now nobody left. I felt devalued and it set of the chain reaction of devaluation and landed me in my angry little hole. Being pushed off to second place (or lower) is something I’m keenly aware of.

Fear and Loathing and the Devil Ether

This all leads me to the fact that while I know all of this, and can recognize the symptoms, just like the devil Ether, “you can actually watch yourself behaving in this terrible way but you can’t control it.” The feelings are so overwhelming. You can reason with it. You can try to think your way out of it, present it with alternative scenarios, shame it, cry and hope it goes away, but in the end, the emotions have their day. You find yourself thinking terrible things and plotting until you snap yourself back to reality.

It isn’t easy. No one can Live up tho the picture I painted, no matter how loving or kind. No one can live up to the best friend myth that I keep looking for either.

The problem is I’m still, well,  I’m mad. Angry. While that’s an honest feeling, it also ranks me in the “unhealthy relationship” category and pushes me even further down the scale of people likely benefit from friendship. I’m still behaving in this terrible way by feeling betrayed and reacting to what was to me, a very real event. So, it’s kind of like shooting yourself in the foot accidentally. It seems I might have to get used to the idea of of being fully on my own and learning to like it.

Aliens

I’ve been sitting here for a few with Ingrid Michaelson’s last record on repeat feeling a bit weird. Yes, I said record. Yes, I’m old, but that isn’t my issue…well, right now.

Firstly, I feel a lot like Sigourney Weaver and no, not because I’m shimmying around my office in tiny undies trying to fit into a space suit  but because I have a weird feeling that there’s something moving around inside my guts that has nothing to do with my guts. It’s an odd sensation, like a pile of squid dancing the rumba. Maybe they like Ingrid Michaelson too.  Whatever it is, it’s decidedly alien. Maybe I can sell tickets to the eruption. Look out Jonesy!

The cornbread wasn’t that bad…

Secondly, I’m just bothered because there’s been a lot of thinking going on, the uncomfortable kind that makes you question your beliefs and fundamental structures of perception. That can also be good, but the last time that happened, I lost it, not to put too fine a point on it.

I went full atheist. Now some things, some mighty big coincidences have occurred that have made me question that assessment. That’s not to say that I’m down for a bearded deity in the sky, just that it may be more complex than my current belief system is accepting of. The energy system of which we are all made may be more vast and diverse and include things like bloody weird coincidences. That’s it for now, but it’ll start my brain going full tilt. That’s what happens to me.

I can’t leave anything alone. I have to read and explore and dig. I have to think around something until I do the flop. Not that I’m not already in awe of the mysteries of the universe, the beauty of nebulas, the way the structures of the eye mimic them, the way everything mimics everything else in extremes of scale, but I’m starting to wonder about more. More? Surely not!

I’ve found a book of energy experiments. That’s where I’ll start to see if I’m nutty bonkers. I don’t seem to have an off switch. It’s kind of a bad thing. The one thing that is positive here is that it has given me back something vital that I had lost. Hope. Faith. In what I’m not sure. I guess that’s the point of my insanity. I’m not sure, but that’s ok. I need to accept the mystery.

Now the mystery of what’s up with my intestines is another thing…

Day 27: Bad Habit

Do you have any bad habits?

Some days I think I am a walking bad habit. I mean, anyone who would stick by me on my bad (and surly) days must be a total glutton for punishment. Beyond that, I covered a lot under the self-destructive behavior post, but one habit above all others has been quickly dismantling me. It’s an old habit I learned somewhere along the way as a kid to self-sooth. I’ve seen myself do it while being aware and wanted to slap myself silly for being unable to stop myself, but I really have no other strategy. It’s the habit of calming myself with food.

I’m not sure where that was first learned. I come from hearty stock and my grandparents made food an event. Whenever I was upset, I turned to it for solace. Maybe it made me feel loved, or at home,  I don’t know, but shoving my face into a vat of ice cream does somehow make everything feel better for a while. Carbs, my friend. are king in that battle. Cakes, pastries, etc.

Something remarkable happened a while back. I became aware that my son was allergic to wheat and we cut it all out. I cut out all grains, my overwhelming cravings seemed to stop. I lost 100 pounds and seemed to have absolutely no interest in food whatsoever. It was the greatest gift I’d ever had, but then something, and I truly can’t remember what, made me slip.

I think that while I changed my diet and it worked marvelously, the underlying coping mechanism is still there. The first really big stressor that came along, and there were actually a few, my car breaking down, deaths, mental difficulties, and my relationship falling apart, it all pointed me toward my age-old friend, food. (You know, that pizza, you haven’t had one in a long time…wink, wink!)

That vat of Ben and Jerry’s called my name! I never did come up with new soothing techniques so what was I to do? I ended up binge stuffing into my face all the wrong things. I’ve gained back a good 20 ponds over the holidays and I’m so upset I could cry, which of course feeds the cycle.

So, “rewarding” myself by punishing myself and making everything worse is a heinous habit and that is really what it is. I learned to do it. I can learn not to. I can train my brain to turn to something else. It may take forever. I really wish that I was back to the point where I could take food or leave it. That was a dream. Being calm and not needing a coping mechanism may be the key to that, but I’m not sure. I know I feel bad now; sick and inflamed and just bloated. It’s enough already. I refuse to return to my former state of manatee look-a-like. I refuse!

I’m going back on that wagon and looking for better ways to distract myself from what I feel I need to escape from. If I can turn myself into one of those broads who copes by exercising, like Dexter’s sister Deb who coped with dating a serial killer by hitting the treadmill like a madwoman, well, I’ll be living the dream. Too bad I really hate the hell out of exercise. There must be one! I could always just start drinking again…

Day 6: Insert Morrissey Song…

Question 6: How’s your love life? My first thought was to start off with a fit of mad laughter a la Jack Nicholson’s Joker. That mad laugh/cry he erupted into upon first seeing his face after being dropped in the vat of chemicals by Batman was pretty much my reaction to the question. I mean, come on! My love life? A question about that now?!

I suppose the reason it stings is because my hopes and dreams with DG have just gone up in flames faster than Atlanta in Gone with the Wind. They were nice dreams. They encompassed more than my romantic hopes but my career and travel goals as well. Now I have that pierced through the heart feeling and nothing will fill that emptiness. I guess that’s the empty feeling so talked about in borderline circles.  Just last night I became the tired cliché, eating a pint of ice cream in sweats and watching things that made me cry. I had no desire to do or even plan anything that before would have lit up my entire mood.

You know what brought that on? He signed off quickly for the millionth time, but when he abruptly left, he signed off with “All the Best” where he used to say “Love” or “Yours” or “Always”. I know it’s normal and friendly like it should be now that things have been returned to a status of “friendship”, but it gutted me, obviously. A tiny thing flips a switch and I feel it like a tidal wave. It brought to light something else. Simply by the way I am, I push people away. I have for a long time and I began to see the pattern and how it fit with the definitions of Borderline.

I spent some time talking to a trusted friend and I can say that I’m coming to realize just how hard it is with me reading every little shift of interest as the end of all hope and the impending departure of my friend/partner/whatever. It’s a little hard to take. I mean, how can I ever expect anyone to deal with me? It makes the future of a love life look bleak indeed. In that light, seeing that all of my desperate attempts to have someone care for me as much as I care for them is futile. All of my anxiety and pain seems like cheap melodrama to those around me because they can’t feel it or even imagine it…I just look like a drama queen having fits, but that’s not really the case. Feelings sweep me up and overwhelm. Everything is a reaction to them. No premeditated dramatic soliloquy possible. Just a trigger and an opposite reaction, though in this case, not equal…

Once my friend knew that this is what I was feeling and not me in some way trying to comment on his lack of friendship, and that some decisions I needed to make at the time I simply couldn’t because of those triggers, it made our friendship so much smoother. It reminded me of something I watched last night that hit me like a ton of bricks and explained the situation perfectly and succinctly. Kevin Bacon’s character in “The Following” has a habit of pushing people away out of fear and being unable to let people in, not unlike a borderline (you’re either all in or all out). His partner was giving advice to someone who cared for him. He said, “He’ll push, just don’t budge.”

Just don’t budge.

That’s what it’s going to take. I don’t know all that many people with that kind of patience or the understanding to know that it’s all unconscious on my part. The anger, the depression, all of it. I’ve been truly lucky a few times in that I’ve found two best friends, one of them oddly my ex husband, who won’t budge. If I get truly lucky, maybe there’s a guy out there who’s willing to stand his ground as well. Until then, I’ll be here eating my ice cream.

Days 4 and 5: Apocalypse Now

The friend I described losing yesterday once described me to someone as hating life. That’s not entirely accurate. I love life. I do, though I may not beam it every second. I love a million things about life, like a good thunderstorm, clean sheets after a bath, cheesecake, movies, tea…but on occasion, and I’m sure he couldn’t understand this, it gets to be all too much. The feelings overwhelm and the world turns to a cacophonous cloud of noise that makes my skin crawl…like right now.

That’s the reason I’m combining two questions into one post and writing them a day early. It’s a raw moment. I took a big downturn today and I thought that maybe being completely honest in this state might be helpful in some way to someone somewhere.

The questions respectively are: Have you ever attempted suicide and have you ever written a suicide note? I’ve decided to combine them because two posts on this subject would just be too much. As of now, I’m having an anxiety attack. Panic more like. I’ve had to stop a few times because my heart is pounding so hard I can hear it. I’m not sure if it’s the subject matter or the fact that I’m feeling badly again over the loss of people I’ve cared about. It truly feels like I have a big hole in my chest…but moving on…

There have been many times I’ve come very close to ending myself. Why do I admit that? Why talk about such a dark subject at all? Because I’ve managed to thankfully make it past them. When I had nowhere to go, no job, and a baby to feed I came closer than I ever have. I remember the utter hopelessness and isolation I felt. I felt completely worthless and overwhelmed. It was raining non stop for days. I remember just sitting in the car crying harder than I ever had and trying to decide whether to bring the baby inside the church and leave him so he’d have a chance. No notes. Not ever. It was always a private thing.

In the end I managed to talk myself out of that idea and conquer the overwhelming feelings. Like every time before it, I’m so thankful I did. So many joys I would never have known came in the years that followed.

I had one worse one, right before my breakdown. I was at work, once again feeling overwhelmed and undervalued…invisible. The only way I can truly describe it was despair. I felt heavy, pulled down and the room I was sitting in suddenly seemed darker than it had been. There was once again that feeling of having a hole in my chest but simultaneously a pain like being speared through the heart at the same time. I was ready to disappear. Everything was too much but one thought was enough to bring me out of it. My son. I thought about how I’d never see him or hold him again and how he’d never be able to understand. I survived that day too and again, I’m so lucky I did. Some days he’s the only thing I have to look forward to, but one reason is enough. He’s always been more than enough.

So now that I’m once again in pain and having a panic attack over the loss of a friend and someone I loved completely, I realize that having those anchors is vital. Whatever it is for you, hold on to it for dear life. There really will be something you’ll be glad you didn’t miss.

A New Challenge

So being greatly in need of venting and for a reason to write…actually I’ve had plenty of reasons to write but I’ve tried to take some care of myself for a little while with varying results…I’ve found a new 31 Day Challenge. I’m a few months late but I figure, better late than never.

It’s one that is newly close to my heart as I’ve recently found out that I’m likely to be suffering from this particular “personality style” as it was put to me. I also may not know for a few years if it’s “Borderline” or “Bi-Polar”. Yay for me! As frightening as it’s been, it’s also made sense of so much I’ve felt in the past, so I’m counting all revelations good…well,  these next ones take some effort…

It’s been a rough week of vacation. I finally had the conversation and DG and I are no more. It seemed to be his idea as much as mine and although I knew it was coming, it was still a huge loss. I lost an important relationship in him. I also experienced the sudden death of another friend and nearly lost myself as well while driving.

I nearly drove off a cliff. For real.

You’d think one near fatal car crash would be enough wouldn’t you? It’s really true, never drive angry or upset. To be clear, no, I didn’t do that on purpose. I was thinking too much, upset by recent conversations and couldn’t have picked a worse road to go down in that state. Sea cliffs and sharp drops. I may be a drama queen sometimes, but that’s not my preferred way to go. I think I’d go more for a theatrical scene more than squished on a rock, but I digress… I had some extreme anxiety and panic attacks afterward but it also made me think.

All the talk you hear about living in the moment finally hit me after all of that happened within a few days. Oddly enough it came to me over a pear. Yep, a squishy, gritty, sweet, bell shaped, near-rotten pear. I’d gotten a bag of them and meant to eat them, I really did. Time went on and I’d look at them and do something else. I was down to the last one that looked somewhat viable but it was a toss up. I stared at it.  I thought about it for a minute and thought, damn it I really want a pear. Just eat the damned thing! What are you waiting for? If you want a pear, eat a pear. What if it’s the last pear you ever eat?

Yes, it’s a random train of thought but it brought home the larger point. What am I waiting for in all areas of life? If I want it, do it!

So, one thing I want to do is write about this new road I have to travel. I figure, if you have something you’re going through, and sharing about it might help one person, it’s worth the time…plus I get to write and (hopefully) remove some of the stigma. There’s other stuff that comes up and it’ll all be good. I get to learn what it is to be human and how to choose what that looks like for me. What better journey could a person have to explore?

Bio-Shock

It’s not often I get riled enough to sound off on something, but when I do (OK, I sound like a Dos Equis commercial)  I get really riled. As funny as I’d like to be, it’s more of a sudden realization deserving of a proper rant. So, I finally realized the reason for my sudden fall off the wheat wagon. It turns out it wasn’t all that sudden after all. It’s been a slippery slope of little slips here and there but I get ahead of myself.

About two years ago,  I decided to try a gluten-free diet to see if it would help my son with his hyperactivity. I’d read an article and at that point I was so done with the whole situation I would have tried nearly anything. We gave it a shot. I got a recipe book that was grain free and within a few weeks, though I felt rotten, my son started improving in his attention and his presence. I didn’t truly notice anything until one day, with a lack of options while out, I gave in and let him have one of those big, hot pretzels that I remembered from the holidays downtown as a girl. We were ice skating. It seemed ok.

It so wasn’t.

Within a few minutes, and I mean it was barely a few minutes, he started back to spinning and running all over the place unable to deal with the simplest of things. It was rather dramatic and I knew then that there was a huge connection. As we went on with it and I became hyper-vigilant about anything containing wheat or gluten, I started to feel better as well. My cravings stopped. I felt nourished and I no longer had any desire for any of that old stuff I used to eat. In fact, it quite literally made me sick whenever I’d slip.   One weekend we gave in to having pizza. The pain it caused me was the worst food hangover ever culminating in red hot pain that made me wonder if I was having a heart attack. The nerves in my back lit up like the 4th of July. I vowed it wasn’t worth it right then.

Fast forward to a few months ago. I was a full 100 pounds down with very little pain on my part. It came off effortlessly. I wasn’t hungry all the time. I felt good. Then I thought that gluten free stuff would be ok. It was after all…well…gluten free and I could have a cookie or a cupcake without the furious side effects. It was all fine, I felt fine, but then it expanded to wanting a few things here and there. Certainly a little wouldn’t hurt in moderation. WRONG! The second I started on grains again, there was a huge difference. I was hungry and craving. My blood sugar I imagine was the culprit there.

I started with corn chips, graduated to gluten-free baked goods, then on to the odd sugar laced piece of this or that, then on to candy because the sugar cravings got so intense. (I never eat candy and I’ve never much cared for it so that should have been a red flag.) I then slipped off into cake. It didn’t seem to burn me too badly, which was awful because it encouraged me to think maybe I was over it (whatever “it” was). This week, two burritos and 10 to 15 pounds up from where I was, I feel miserable. I’m achy. I have headaches all the time again. My sinuses are acting up and I’m tired. Although I realize what’s going on, it’s still hard to stop. My body has to detox again off this stuff that makes me crave food all day long. It’s so tempting to take the easy road and just fix it with some more caffeine and sugar, but I don’t like the way I look and more importantly, I don’t like the way I feel.

It’s a non-stop evil merry-go-round of a vicious circle and I’m getting off this over-sized eclair I’ve been riding around on. My brain and sinuses will certainly thank me in the end as I hope will my growing wheat-belly. It’s an apt term and though it might sound kooky, new age, or like a hippy fad, I would have to say that it’s definitely worth a try. I’ve spread the word far and wide and heard good results. Now it’s time to listen to my own advice! As long as I have guacamole, it’ll all be alright…

Blankety Blank

 

It’s a little weird to have no more questions to answer at the end of the blogging challenge. I can say that it’s been a bit odd not having the daily post to do.

I thought that I was on a roll and decided, like every year, to sign up for National Novel Writing Month. I had a couple of overlap days which was a little much, but I was both excited to jump in but worn out at the same time.  Then there was a crash. A few things unraveled. My car broke down, I got sick, and…I couldn’t write.

Seriously. Crash-o-rama…

In the midst of chores I started feeling crappy and…bam! Fever. Aches. Being stuck on the couch and most of all, no word count. One day turned to four and I had nothing behind the eyes but a massive headache.

I’ve never tanked the contest before and I’m still feeling kind of bad about it. I’ve been, to be honest, feeling a little depressed and cursed with bad luck. Out of nowhere, I saw another 30 day test of dedication. A random diet page I follow came up with 30 days of gratitude! Instantly that was a real challenge. I’m without wheels, missing appointments, miserably sick, isolated, and to top it all off, facing complete apathy from my Doubtful Guest (the boyfriend).

Of course I know I’m supposed to be grateful. I know it! But faced with it as a 30 day challenge I had to remember than knowing something and practicing it are far removed. Obviously, the problems tend to stick out and occupy your mind, especially when your mind feels like it’s getting ready to make a break from your skull towards the cat door.  So, today I’m thankful that I have something to write about and for the fact that there are suddenly people reading it (Thank You!). I’m thankful for everyone’s kind comments and for the opportunity to be completely me (as off as I can be). I always seem to forget that for things to get better, you have to focus on the things you want, not the problems.  I’m done circling the drain, as my bestie’s mom says.

I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I might be up for a Life of Brian sing-a-long instead of ruminating on the issues to be solved. (ok, yes, I may actually like show tunes after all!)   A rousing round of “Don’t Rain on My Parade” might scare people I know, but a little enthusiasm may yield better results.

Day 29 – All my friends are imaginary

Who is your closest or most special friend that you’ve never met and what do they mean to you? How did you cross paths? Talk about how you “met” them: Facebook, Twitter, an online support group, etc.

Well isn’t that a pip? It took me a while on this one. Is it a typo? Is it my best friend or is this a build-a-best-friend workshop where I can stuff him with rainbow fluff, hug him and squeeze him and name him George? Given how “Met” is in quotations I’m guessing I can make up anyone I please. Do I wanna be besties with the Joker? Sheldon Cooper? Emily Bronte? Did I meet them in a bar, at Gotham’s diviest bar? At a physics symposium or run across Wolverine while renting a horror flick at Blockbuster? The mind reels with possibilities.

I’ve decided to do a bit of a split between the two on this occasion. Actually, it’s a stretch but go with me on this one and then see if it works for you.

I met her on a cold night in the dark back alley of one of my stories. She’s always there, lurking behind the sharp German expressionist corners of the more dramatic passages. She’s a hard one to pin down and I’m not sure I actually have yet. I only get snippets through the fog banks but what I see of her is both aloof from the world and longing for it at the same time. She has the loneliness of an outsider forever watching through the windows into the happier stories in this world. She comes to see me when I’m at my breaking point. offering me her companionship when there is no other and reassuring me when I need a reflective opinion. Sometimes she’s unruly and says horrible things. She says things I would never let anyone else get away with but she’s just trying to protect me. She wants me to remember danger and to tread lightly which I’m grateful for but sometimes I’d like her to shut up about it already.

She is beautiful but doesn’t know it. She’s talented at a number of things but denies it. On occasion though, she shows me that I can do what she cannot. She roots me forward and energizes my dreams. She’s there when I need to vent frustration. She’s there to cry with. She’s there when I’m angry and need a voice. She’s everything to me and all at once nothing to me. I try to get past her and then try to find her. She’s the only one who will walk with me until the end and I need to cherish her more, compliment her more, giver her more time and affection. She deserves my love as much as everyone else in my life and more. She deserves recognition and remembrance. She may be flawed, but she’s the only one I’ve got to keep me company when I’m alone.

What is that song? I’ve been to Paradise but I’ve never been to me? Horrible song, agreed, but there is a point in there somewhere. If I need to make up an imaginary friend, I may as well get to know the little me that’s in there that goes ignored and chastised most of the time. Not a horrible idea I think. Sure I’d rather hang with Wolverine eating popcorn, but maybe I’m not such bad company in the long run.

Day 28 – To Boldly Go

Describe a moment when you made a big, bold move. In any area of life: Career, Love, etc. A few years ago, well now, several years ago I was in a rotten position. I’d been left alone with a child to raise, recently lost my job, and found myself without a place to live. It was a rough time to be sure. I was riding a long streak of low spirits and lower hope. I had spent a good year applying for jobs and while I had interviews, I was always left the bridesmaid hoping to catch the bouquet when the final decisions came down. It was frustrating.

I’d come from doing trade show graphics work and in relocating to a new county to stay with family, found all of those prospects nearly dried up. I applied everywhere I could. I tried for assistant positions, clerical positions, anything I could find. I had a son to raise after all. I interviewed at a few sign shops and decided to go for broke and try random things that always interested me. I had two interviews in the same week which I sort of phoned in by that point and gave up the results to fate. I ended up with two job offers on the same day. There was a world of difference between the two careers. I had a decision to make.

The first position was with a graphics supply company. I was familiar with the products and the place was nice and small. I would work with two other women taking orders and talking about graphics products. It was something I could do and the pay, though half of what I was used to making in my graphics shop, was enough to get things started on the right track. On the other hand, I had a random interview with a mortuary, which I had no previous experience with, but which I’d been drawn to for ages. I managed somehow to get that job at the same pay rate as the other. There were no clear incentives either way.

I don’t know what got into me. My sensible self told me to go with graphics. It was safe. I had experience. I could parlay that into maybe a similar position to my old job which was way more creative. There was something eating at me though. If I never went with my other interest, I would never know what it was like or of I could do it. I read somewhere that when faced with two possibilities, you should always take the bolder path.

So I did.

The next day after I’d turned down the job at the graphics company, the president of the company called me to ask me personally to reconsider. I remember telling him that I felt the need to go down a new road. I’ll never forget his stunned silence when he asked me what type of work I chose to do. Since then, everyone else has told me how perfect I am for the work I do, which I’m both flattered by and a bit taken aback by. I just know it would have eaten at me, taking the safe road.

I should really take my advice now since it feels like another one of those crossroads moments. Hopefully I’ll have a clear sign and something I love to move on to. In the meantime I’m quite fine being the quiet mortuary girl with the calming voice. If people only knew!