108 days. Wow. It’s been quite the roller coaster ride and, true to form, I’ve been really bipolar about my feelings about unemployment. For now {and for the last month +} it’s a really fantastic experience and I’m loving every second of it.

The downside of this has been my slacking. Have you noticed that I haven’t updated this blog in nearly a month? I certainly have and I’m kicking myself for it. It’s just that I’ve been so busy! How do you people have time for jobs!? I can’t for the life of me figure out exactly when I’m supposed to squeeze in real work.

I’ve been filling my days with volunteering, therapy, playing in parks, helping my friend Sue in her studio, road trips, printmaking classes, rooftop BBQs, Didion snuggles, sandwich eating for Unbreaded, bike rides . . . the list goes on and on.

Anyway, what I want to say is, I’m sorry I’m slacking. I promise I’ll update about my road trip soon. I’ve got potential big news about the Hamilton Wood Type Museum and my little stint with breaking and entering at the Forevertron. It’ll be worth it. Stay posted, ya’ll, the good stuff is to come.

I started my day with a trip to see Dr. Strong and discuss my medication. We both feel that I’m doing great on it {he said I still seemed fidgety, but I know that that’s just how I always am} and so I’m staying on it for a while. I was initially worried about the price, and a phone call to Pfizer about their program for people who have recently lost their insurance due to unemployment didn’t ease my fears as I’d hoped. Turns out you have to have been on whatever medication it is you want them to send you for at least 3 months prior to your unemployment date. I, of course, didn’t need medication until after I lost my job, so I’m SoL. I put a call in to the pharmacy though and my prescription is only 35$, so it’s no big deal.

The feel of my day was set after that, and I was thrilled to be out and about, even in the awful humidity. I was pretty nervous, and couldn’t eat, all because of an interview I had. That’s right, I went for a job interview!

I don’t want to get into too much detail, but the short of it is, I interviewed for a nanny position. I’ve been talking about printing a lot, and I do love it very much, but the opportunity to work with a child in a long term one on one position is just too much for me to pass up. I think I interviewed well, but times are tough for nannies. Lots of really wonderful, qualified women {and men} are vying for not so many positions, and this one is a good one. Like, really good. I’m crossing my fingers, but it won’t be the end of the world for me if I don’t get it, which is generally the way my life goes.

I have a really good feeling about life right now. There is so much goodness surrounding me right now that I’m confident that Everything Will Be Okay.

After my interview I took my bike in for a last minute tune up, ran some errands at Target, had dinner with Avalon, ran home and took a short nap, and then went to my first alternative printmaking class at Fleisher.

My day was great all around, but that class was definitely the highlight. I’ve missed printing so so much, and though this is nothing like the printing I did at Delaware, it more than filled the void. You see, this was printing where I got to express myself. Today, I made art.

My first plate, prepared to print a monotype. Blue, yellow, and black ink rolled/painted onto a plexiglass plate.

Running the plate through the press. My first official print! That scratch is from a hard blob of ink that I didn’t see on my plate. A little disappointing, but overall the texture was pretty good and I was happy with it. “Art” has never really been my strong suit, I’m better with words. The plate after printing. Could have done a ghost print of this {running the plate back through with a fresh sheet of paper, thus pulling the leftover ink off}, but I decided to clean the plate and do a second print instead. For my second print I mixed up some pink ink and rolled it and then rolled some blue that I had leftover from my first print.

I was really happy with this one and I’m hoping to print something on top of it. I think it’ll make the perfect background for something in one of the next classes. I’m already starting to plan it out. I’m thinking it’ll come into play when we do our Xerox transfer.

My creative juices are flowing, and I am ready to start pounding out some work! A gentleman I know will be assisting me in shopping for a new digital camera, so that I can better document my printmaking adventure. And all the other little adventures I have planned for this summer. I can’t wait.

• Driving across the country with my little sister.
• Seeing my family on a more regular basis.
• Writing and making books.
• Sewing a skirt, a dress, and my canopy.
• Printing.
• Learning. About anything and everything.
• Hanging sheet rock.
• Wandering around the art museum.
• Spending days in the sun.
• Riding my bike.
• Visiting Jeanette at work.
• Helping Sue.
• Spending my summer with Wayne and Nate.
• Drinking iced coffee.

My adventures in finding a therapist have been fantastic, and I think I’ve settled on seeing what the Women’s Therapy Center matches me up with. My month of Zoloft has been great too, I suddenly feel much more calm and less inclined to obsessing over things. It’s a really nice, but foreign feeling. Hopefully it will continue and become a constant in my life.

I’ve been doing some work for Sue at Giant Dwarf {as opposed to this, which is what I originally linked to} and that’s been a nice feeling. This past weekend also involved a lot of parties and BBQs, which I enjoyed very much and the end of this week promises to have lots of family goodness. On Thursday my mom is coming to take me to dinner and then home and then on Friday I’m seeing a baseball game with my Pappy. I’m looking forward to late nights on my parents’ porch chatting with neighbors and the smell of true Spring. A trip to the Easton Cemetery is in order too.

Things are good.

Today I worked! You have no idea how rewarding it felt to stand in Sue of Giant Dwarf‘s studio and cut circles out of felt for three hours today. I know it isn’t much, but it kept me busy and I liked that. It is just what I needed.

I’ve also helped a friend of mine hang sheet rock three times in the last couple weeks and that feels good. I like helping something come together, watching it grow in front of my eyes. It’s too bad I’m so terrible at self-motivating!

Lucky for me, I know this about myself and I’m now trying to make myself do things that will create motivation. What, you ask? Well, I signed myself up for an Alternative Printmaking course at Fleisher! Instead of sitting around whining about how much I miss printing, I’m going to go try to do some alternative printing. Sure, it’s no iGen or Docucolor 8000, but it’s something. Starting June 8th I will be spending three hours every Monday night for seven weeks doing . . . some kind of printing. I don’t even know much about this “alternative printing” but you can bet your ass I’m going to find out about it.

A nice benefit of registering for that was signing up for a summer Fleisher membership. In addition to a discount on classes {should I take two?} I get a membership to the art museum! Free exhibits whenever I want! I’m really grateful for this, since one of the things I miss most about my job is the free access it got me to the Philadelphia Museum of Art. You know, second to the whole printing thing.

I feel like I’m on the upswing again. I’m allowing myself to relax and enjoy life. Tomorrow I’m going to spend an afternoon “making stuff” with a friend and I’ve got my mind set on tossing together a dress that I can’t stop thinking about.

Oh and I am writing, always writing. And diving head first back into my Didion reading project. Oh, and trying to figure out what the hell I’m doing with my life.

I am sometimes unsure of who I am. I read essays and short stories {by Didion, Lorrie Moore, and Amy Hempel} and recognize parts of myself. These are all words I have read before and I don’t know if these recognizable characters have always reminded me of myself or if I have molded myself into a copy of them. What is real? What is me?

I am at a place in my life where everything is changing. There is little stability in my day to day existence. I am without a job, without a relationship, without all of the things that generally make me feel safe. I yearn for safety. I want someone to take care of me, hold me when life is scary, force me to get out of bed when everything seems bleak and meaningless.

Sometimes the thought of taking care of myself is overwhelming. Sometimes it feels like too much responsibility. I ask myself how I can be expected to keep myself afloat when my world has fallen apart. One fear slowly becomes amplified and takes over my entire body. I become essentially incapable of functioning.

And yet sometimes I can be so positive. I have it in me to look on the bright side, to employ the Power Of Positive Thinking, to stand on my own two feet and remind myself that Things Are What You Make Of Them, that The Journey Is The Destination.

I am trying to reconcile all the facets of my personality into one static thing. I am a depressive, anxious sort with the ability to stay positive when she puts her mind to it.

I need to remember to get out of my own head. Writing helps, it always has. I have felt strangely ashamed and shy about expressing how difficult life has been for me lately, but that’s only making things worse, so I’m opening back up.

Life is scary but I’m going to be okay. I promise.

I’m gaining a lot of confidence in myself. I’ve done a lot of things this week that make me feel proud, and kind of quietly so. I am becoming comfortable with my place right now.

Last night I helped a friend hang sheet rock, for the second time this week. I have to say, I truly enjoy working hard, getting banged up, feeling the effects of my effort in my arms the next day. I got to use a masonry chisel and a hammer last night to make two holes in the brick of the kitchen wall for outlets. I hit the first knuckle on my left hand at least 5 times, there’s a bruise slowly forming and it’s sensitive to the touch. I also measured for and trimmed out the holes for the outlets in the sheet rock. I made a small mistake, but it was over a joist so we just stuck the piece back in and screwed it. Quick fix! By the end of the night I was covered in brick dust, my mouth was full of grit, and I could barely breathe {thanks allergies!} but I felt really great.

Today I’m tired {which is probably a combination of all that work AND the insomnia I’ve been suffering from} and I’m positive I’ll be sore tomorrow, but it’s the good kind of sore.

What else has gone on this week? I went to the Franklin Institute, spent hours laying/reading in parks, researched therapists and vets {Didz needs to get fixed. Have any recommendations?}, hosted a FUNemployment luncheon at Tattooed Mom’s, and received confirmation that I Will Eventually Have A Job . . . it’s just still uncertain when . . .

Next week I’m going to start calling therapists, schedule a spaying appointment for Ms. Didz, finally create a resume, sew a skirt, ride my bike at least 5 miles a day {I’m getting lazy without a daily ride to work!}, and hopefully hang some more sheet rock.

A few days back I talked about how bad my anxiety has been lately and how I was planning to see my doctor. Well, I saw my doctor yesterday and it was an interesting experience.

I’ve been seeing Dr. Strong for a few years now and we’ve got a good relationship. I go in, act like my maniacal self, we make some jokes, he tells me I’m a high strung lady, and then he writes me a script. Usually.

Yesterday was a little different. I talked to him {and his resident} about the anxiety I’ve been feeling, how it’s been out of control, how the Ativan isn’t helping, and how I was hoping he could set me up with something a little stronger to get me through the tough times. We had a talk about how he isn’t a believer in medicating people who are intelligent and have the capacity to work through their problems {um, like me, apparently} but that he felt that it was important to put me on meds to get my obsessing and worrying and general anxiety in check.

We went back and forth on this a few times {I’m incredibly resistant to medicating, as I’ve had two not so good experiences in my past, it took me a long time to even allow emergency Ativan into my life} and he pointed out that I was only letting him get about 20 words out before I’d interrupt and throw up my wall. It’s true. I want to be able to do everything myself. But I can’t.

In the end I agreed to a few weeks on Sertraline to calm me down, bring me to a functional place, etc. combined with therapy. In fact, Dr. Strong made me promise him that I would start therapy if he wrote me the script. Fair enough.

So now I’m scouring the internet for therapists. This is going to be entirely out of pocket, which I’m not looking forward to, but it’s time. I can’t keep putting therapy off. My problems are bigger than me, I can’t tackle them alone. Asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness. These are the things I keep reminding myself of.

It’s scary but also a huge relief. I’ve been coping with anxiety, panic attacks, depression, obsessive compulsive thoughts/behavior, and who knows what else for 7 years. It hasn’t been easy or fun and I’ve had a hard time. I’ve built a lot of walls to protect myself from people who only want to help me and at the same time let all the wrong people in. It’s time to change that.

Initially I was going to keep this to myself. I’m a little embarrassed and ashamed that I had to ask for help, that I couldn’t do it all myself. Which is what made me realize that I need to share this. I need to accept that this is okay, that this isn’t a sign of weakness, that I am Doing The Right Thing.

Wish me luck.

My nightmares are still persistent and my tummy aches are showing no sign of stopping {I’m nursing one right now} but I put that all behind me for a bike ride to Chinatown for lunch with my old coworkers followed by coffee in Rittenhouse with Anna of Shmitten Kitten fame and then a jaunt through town with my BFFF Wayne which ended with snacks and a delicious beer at the Cantina. I was home by 8 {and the sun was still up!}, which I think is not too shabby.

My night at home has mostly consisted of watching last night’s episodes of The Office and 30 Rock, listening to the Reality Bites soundtrack, watching Didz do cute stuff {check out the video down below}, and writing my newest piece for Shmitten Kitten. Enjoy that.

I’m going to spend the rest of my night watching A Walk to Remember {which I bought yesterday because my sister and I scoured the Lehigh Valley for it a couple weekends ago to no avail . . . next time I see her we’ve got a date with Mandy Moore and six pack of Yoo-Hoo} and reading The Worry Cure. It’s come recommended by a friend who also suffers from some serious anxiety, so I’m hoping it’ll help me out . . . I’ll keep ya’ll posted.

I haven’t made any progress on the job front, but I’m going to let myself off the hook for now. Tomorrow I’ve got plans to get some breakfast with Waynerdoo, coffee at some point with another friend, and maybe a little lesson in hanging sheetrock with our old pal Beard #1. I also intend on wearing a dress, riding my bike, eating ice cream, and spending as much time as possible outside. I’ve got to stop wallowing.

Oh, and just to prove that I can still smile {and do, a lot} check out the photo below. And Jamie, if you’re reading, that scarf you brought me from South Africa is FINALLY seeing some action. I love it!

When I’m awake there is an almost constant mass of panic/anxiety/fear in my chest. I’m not even sure what I’m afraid of, but it is something big and it is all consuming and I don’t know how to make it go away. I will sit and calmly think about what is happening, where I am, and know that I am worrying about things that I can’t control, and that in addition to that I am worrying about the act of worrying. I get caught in this Worry Cycle and there is no escaping it. Chris would say, “not with that attitude” and of course he would be right, but I don’t know how to do it. I don’t have the tools. I don’t know how to make it go away and I am afraid to try. Oh the fear.

And I feel guilty. I feel guilty for not having a job, but getting paid. I know that I would have felt guilty anyway, but it hasn’t helped that someone else has made me feel guilty. I know I am ultimately in control of my feelings, but the injury I feel adds to the guilt. I don’t know how to be unemployed and I certainly don’t know how to be unemployed WHILE getting paid. There are still quite a few days of this in my future and I’m terrified that this feeling is just going to keep piling up, getting more and more overwhelming, and eventually crushing me.

I feel like I am walking a ridiculously fine line between sanity and insanity. I am so close to the edge, to giving up. There are moments when I wish I could actually just lose my mind and get it over with. Keeping it together isn’t easy. I want it to be, but it’s not.

My anxiety is getting so bad that I’ve made an appointment to see my doctor on Monday. The Ativan doesn’t do enough, doesn’t calm me like it used to. This is beyond panic attacks, this is approaching full on crippling anxiety. It is where I was when I started college or when I dropped out. It is uncomfortable and terrifying. And that fear is just propelling the anxious feelings further. Writing about it used to be soothing, but right now I can feel it creeping in, slowly. Or maybe it is more like it is creeping out . . . it’s hard to describe the precise feeling . . . it is like there is a ball of something painful in my chest and as it grows it unfurls its tentacles and they weave themselves through my ribcage and it is suffocating. The tension fills my entire body and there is little that I can think of to soothe it.

What helps? Being around friends. Talking about it. Talking about anything BUT it. Hugs and being held. Closing my eyes and letting music fill my body. Snuggling Didz. Feeling like there is someone there to take care of me . . .

It’s a tough time that I’m going through. I feel weak, which is one of the things I hate the most. My biggest fears are being weak and not being good enough, and right now I feel like I am both of those things. I want to be better, but I don’t feel strong enough to do it. I don’t believe in myself enough.

But I’m trying. I’m doing the best that I can given my situation {I think} and I’m trying to be better. I am trying to fill my time with people who make me feel calm and whole and happy. And I am trying to help other people who might be in similar situations. And I am trying to network and build important connections that will help me get OUT of this slump, though that has been less than effective. I want to write about that, but I want to devote a separate entry to it, so it doesn’t get lost here.

What I’m saying here though is this: unemployment is scary. It’s tough and not fun and an awesome severance package doesn’t change that. In fact, for some of us, it makes things worse. I’m one of those people. This fucking sucks and I don’t care if I’m not supposed to say that.

It’s 11:11 right now, and I’m wishing for a job. I’m wishing for this life to sort itself out. I’m wishing for the ability to remember that The Journey Is The Destination. I’m wishing for straight up sanity. Fingers crossed . . .