Today I came home from a long day at work. I trudged up the stairs with my groceries, looking forward to being home in the quiet. I even bought new candles to put that relaxing scent in the air that is recommended by the latest articles on rest and relaxation. I trotted back down to my mailbox in the hallway since my hands were full earlier. I made the guinea pigs their "nummies", gave Nemo the cat his head scratches and treats, then I sat down to read my emails and munch on my dinner.
I know, I am just a bundle of excitement, don't be jealous of that.
I glanced over and remembered that I had mail. I like getting mail for some dumb reason. I don't even care if it is bills. I am kind of strange like that.
I opened my letters. I was so happy to see my new health insurance cards. The best thing about working so hard and getting promoted to full time is the benefits for my family.
I left the bigger envelope unopened. It didn't have a return address but it had a local postmark. I was curious but I waited anyway. I don't recall why.
The envelope laid on the floor next to the couch until my episode of Roseanne was over. Did you know Netflix has Roseanne? I love that show.
I picked it up and opened it. There was a single piece of paper folded in three and I wondered why someone would put that in a big envelope and pay the extra postage. Duh...
Once I unfolded the letter and saw that it was a print out of a joke that I posted on Facebook (I know, social media drama) on the 27th of December.
"A woman just dropped a 20 dollar bill next to me. I thought 'What would Jesus do?' so I turned it into wine... Well, I bought wine."
It was just some joke I read somewhere and it made me chuckle. So I just shared it.
Now, I never worry about offending anyone because, Facebook is what it is. No one would post anything if that were the case. People post the dumbest shit, me included.
Anyway, back to my story.
On the paper was a handwritten note that basically said the reason that horrible things happen to me is because I wasn't a good person and kept the $20. Oh and, when was I going to get it, it isn't all about me.
This was NOT signed.
Ack! Another anonymous note....
If you missed it...here's a link to the first note.
Anonymity is a Voice of Cowards
Of course this upset me.
This is such a shitty thing to do. I mean, write a letter based on a joke that I posted assuming that I actually kept a $20 bill and bought wine.
First of all, I would not have done any such thing.
Second of all, if I had...I would have bought something a little stronger than wine.
(I kid, please don't send me a nasty note)
In all fairness, if this anonymous person knew me at all, they would understand that I do just about anything for anyone. I have helped friends in pain. I have loaned money to a friend when he needed help. I have made gifts for friends fighting cancer. I have donated my time and money for good causes. I have rescued turtles from a busy highway. I have send kind messages and cards to people who needed uplifting.
Now, I do things not to shine bright in the eyes of God. I do things like this because it is the human thing to do, the kind thing to do.
The thing that really upsets me is that this person takes the time to send this anonymous, hateful thing to me and thinks that it is going to change me. If anything, it makes me want to keep on being me.
I hate to break it to you, but it is about me. It is my Facebook page, my blog, my little corner of the interwebs and if you don't like what I have to say, post, comment, whatever....you can kindly block me or stop reading the shit I post. It is that simple.
I like who I am.
Sending me a letter by mail without signing it gives it absolutely no validation in my eyes. It is basically void.
You know, shitty things happen. It is how life is. I know this.
It isn't because Jesus hated my joke. It isn't because God is causing me to suffer.
It is because it is how life is.
Do you think children suffer from cancer because they posted a joke about Jesus and $20?
Honestly, I am not sure that Jesus would know what a $20 bill looks like. His time was so long ago and he is from a completely different country.
This person also assumes that I am even a believer in God, Jesus and Heaven.
Never assume anything about anyone.....
Seriously
Now, I am not admitting whether I am a believer or not. If you truly know me and know what I am all about, you would already know the answer to this.
Also, if this person who wrote the letter to me was a true Christian, would this be a very christian thing to do?
Take a moment to think about that for a second.
This person who wrote the letter seems to be very interested in what I post, say or do. They don't "unfriend" me or tell me that I suck and admit who they are.
They hide behind the curtain of anonymity thinking that this will show me a thing or two. I am assuming (I know, I shouldn't assume but I am anyway) that this is the same person that sent me the other anonymous letter back in April.
This person is still a coward. This person is probably the most unchristian, unhuman, unkind person I know (or not know).
If this person's goal was to hurt me, they failed.
You see, if anyone is making it all about me, it is this anonymous person.
By the way.....The police now have the letter.
Usually this time of year I think about what to write about in my Christmas letter.
I am one of those old school people who send cards with letters in them with actual postage stamps and everything.
I often think my letters are boring. Well, except that one year when I told everyone that my son was an European soccer star and my 8 year old daughter ran off to marry the prince of some unknown country. Yes, I actually did write all that since it was amusing and it wasn't the standard "everyone is just great" letter.
This year has been a bad one as far as years go.
I lost my home. I lost my job. I lost a battle with the health insurance company and my surgery was denied.
Sometimes I have half a mind to write all of that in the letter. Family and friends have no idea what kind of crap happens over here.
I always think that the new year will be different, better some how. It just never seems to get any better.
Oh well...
Maybe I will just write a poem:
Jingle Bells, Santa smells...
This year kinda sucked
Hoping next year is better.
:-)
When I had lost my job, I was shocked. (but not super shocked, I didn't like the job and it showed)
It isn't easy being fired. It beings emotions of not being good enough or being a loser. Truth be told, many successful people have been fired. Google it if you want.
When I was down and out, I decided to make a list of all of the jobs I had over the years:
Babysitter
Custodian
Student Research Assistant
Administrative Assistant
Walmart Associate (CSM)
Laundry Cleaner
Hostess
Busser
Bartender
Waitress
Financial Aid Employee
Order Entry Clerk
Club Manager Assistant
YMCA Guest Services
The list goes on and on....I held many hats over my lifetime.
The point of my list was to help me figure out which job made me the happiest. Which job did I enjoy doing despite the compensation. Which job I wanted to focus on.
This helped me target my next employer.
I loved my Walmart job the most with being a hostess as a close second.
Then I listed why I liked this (these) job(s) the most.
It was simply because I enjoy customer service and not being tied to a desk for eight hours a day.
I worked for Walmart in the mid 90's. This was before I had kids and I was able to work the whacky hour schedule and I could live on a minimum amount of money. I loved the people I worked with. I still see a few of them when I stop in my old store. They welcome me with hugs and smiles. They ask how everything is and then they ask when I am coming back. This always makes me feel good about the type of people that Walmart hires.
So I decided to apply again at a store closer to where I live now. I didn't expect too much as I thought that they might think I was more of the office type since I haven't done customer service in a million years.
A week later I was offered a job in the sporting goods/automotive department.
I was stunned and happily accepted.
I was nervous of course since it meant a pay cut from what I was used to and the hours aren't the typical 9 to 5.
I was also nervous because I was afraid that I lost my customer service touch.
It was been almost two months since I started there and in these two months I have received many compliments from my supervisors on my job performance. I also have such great satisfaction in talking with do many different people on a daily basis and helping them find what they need.
Now this may seem silly and kind of dumb for someone to enjoy their job at Walmart but what really matters is that so many people have jobs because they just pay the bills. People go to a job where they don't enjoy it.
I finally can say that I love what I do so it really isn't work at all.
Ha!
I love that line....the one I used for the title.
Life has been quite interesting lately. Lots of changes all at once.
I maybe should have mentioned that I hate change. Especially negative change, change that is stressful and ugly.
Oh well.
I moved and changed jobs again. This is because it just happened, it wasn't my choice.
Good thing I can adapt.
I don't mind downsizing so much since it means that someone else cuts the grass and blows the snow. I don't mind the new job because I like what I do. I like working with actual customers and am appreciated for the work I do.
Being happy isn't about the size of your house nor is it the amount of money you make. Being happy is about being content and stress free.
I am slowly figuring this out.
Everything eventually becomes ok.
So I've been unemployed for about a week now. The novelty of staying home has worn off and I am beginning to climb the walls. I have watched enough Law and Order SVU to actually solve a murder, try the perp and sentence him/her to the appropriate amount of time for the crime.
Thank God I haven't started in with soap operas and game shows.
Lately I've been working on my crafts (while watching Law and Order) and making wonderful things with wire, beads and hair clips. It takes hours to come up with a few things since I have the equivalency of writer's block.
sigh
I've signed up on job service websites. I cruise those to see what's out there. I giggle as I refrain from applying for a detective or something legal like a lawyer. I can't put Law and Order on my resume.
I also have been thinking about working for myself.
What could I do that would pay the bills and that I would enjoy?
I think of all those designers out there that design shoes, handbags, jewelry, hats, and other things. I design barrettes and bangles for cell phones. How do other designers get noticed? How do they design and then mass produce it? hrrmmmmmm....
So many questions....
I have a friend who is a travel writer. She travels and writes. I would love to do something like that but I don't think I am that great of a writer nor can I just pick up and leave with kids. I just live through her writings and pretend that I went with her.
So much goes through my mind as Eliot and Olivia (reruns) solve crimes.
How will I pay the bills? How will we eat?
I need to figure something out.
How do others find jobs that they enjoy? I haven't enjoyed a job since I worked at Walmart. (I know, right?) I loved working with people. I loved supervising cashiers. I loved little old ladies who couldn't find the right TV. I loved the fast paced holiday season. It didn't pay well, but I loved it.
My second favorite job of all time was working as a hostess in a local restaurant when I was a teenager. I think I made $4.50 an hour but I loved it. I loved the customers. I loved my co-workers (Hell, I even married one of them). I loved the holiday seasons. I loved the smell of ribs cooking.
I guess the theme here is that I loved the two jobs that didn't pay the greatest but where I could work with people (customers).
So, maybe I have my answer just by writing all this out.
hrrmmmmmm......
Insomnia is setting in.
I expected it this time.
I have never hidden the fact that I suffer greatly from depression. This isn't new news. Sometimes I feel that it is old news and I whisper to myself, "People are really sick of hearing about your shit, Julie".
Oh well, my blog...my shit. If you are sick of it, why are you reading? :-)
Anyway, back to my day.
I am somewhat embarrassed to say it (write it) out loud...and I keep stalling, can you tell?
So...
I guess I will just say it.
I got fired today.
So what does this have to do with depression?
Well, besides the risk of adding to it; it also is the cause of it.
I stopped giving a shit. I didn't catch it or heed the warning signs. I just stopped giving a shit and it showed.
I haven't been this bad in a very long time.
The last time I stopped giving a shit at work, I lost the job and it catapulted me into a brand new life in a new state with new adventures. That was 1998.
I didn't cry and carry on after I was let go. I accepted the fact, packed up my desk and proceeded to move on. I didn't even cry when I ran out of gas on the way home.
It is almost comical in a strange sort of way.
It is 1:30 in the morning and I am not tired. I am not sad. I am not melancholy. I am not sobbing "oh poor poor me". I am not even stressing about what to do next.
Nope
I am writing...well and also toggling back and forth between tabs because I found this...
I am going to be freaking famous someday
Some times things happen for a reason. Yeah yeah...I know everyone says this to make a bad situation seem not so bad but in all seriousness...
I stopped giving a shit for a reason.
I just wasn't happy. Happiness is important, sometimes more important than other things. Life is just too short.
The job was a job that I wasn't passionate about. It didn't tap into my creative side. In order to be happy, I need to have passion and creativity.
I know it did pay the bills but I did move to a reasonably priced apartment (that's another thing that happened for a reason). I can survive until I figure stuff out.
This is all a weird feeling because I thought that as a victim of depression, this would have sent me over the edge...spiraling out of control and dialing up the therapist the second I got into my car (lord knows I had time since I was waiting for eternity for someone to rescue me).
Nope, I have a sense of relief.
I wasn't going to mention Robin Williams but I guess I just did.
Seems that the whole world is buzzing about it. It also seems that many are also mentioning suicide and posting links to hotlines and such.
Not to be a negative Nancy, because it is all quite nice and all, but why wait to say something after someone famous dies at their own hands?
Many of us suffer from depression. I have written about it numerous times. I struggle daily with it. It isn't something that you can just make all better with pills and conversation.
Trust me....
To describe actual depression to someone is almost impossible. We each feel it differently and yet similarly at the same time. We try all sorts of methods to keep it in check. We talk about it, write about it, sing about it. It is just still there.
Sometimes it becomes too intrusive and we have to go the drastic route to eliminate it.
And that's unfortunate.
I haven't been blogging much.
I have been struggling with my own issues. Life hasn't been too grand. It has been downright shitty.
I am amazed at how well I am holding up.
I did take a time out from Facebook though. This always helps. People are shitty. They may not think that they are, but.... Well, you know.
I get sick of hearing about other peoples shitty lives. I get sick of people passing judgments. I get sick of all of the negativity. I get so sick of the narcissism. I get sick of all the happy posts too.
None of this shit is good for those of us who have depression.
There just ain't a big enough pill for that.
I find that taking the time to focus on other things helps. I start reading more, creating more, getting out more...everything else more and FB less just helps.
I suppose I could write out all of the shitty shit that I have been dealing with but seriously, no one needs to read it. I am not looking for sympathy or solutions. I certainly don't need another anonymous letter showing up.
It's my shit and I'll deal with it.
I just want others to know that depression sucks. You can say poor Robin, he was battling some serious shit....blah blah blah. Yep, he was and that shit won.
Those of us who suffer from depression tend to mask it rather well. We sometimes are silent. Some of us tend to use humor. I think some of the funniest people are also the most depressed.
When reading some posts about Robin and so many people can't understand why someone who was so funny would want to kill themselves.
I know exactly why.
Funny does not translate into happy.
