Okay, here's where it's at

I told my mother I was going to take two more days of wallowing in self pity and then I would get back up and move on with my life. But I don't need two days. Tomorrow, tomorrow I will get back on with my life.

I don't need everyone else to believe who I am. I know what I'm capable of. I know the time I've put in, I understand the shit I have put up with, I believe I can do this GM job exceptionally. EXCEPTIONALLY! And I will. Whether with my current employer or with someone else, I will do it and I will be fucking fantastic.

That's why the residents tell me they want me to be the successor. That's why Bev's death strengthened me. That's why over and over and over and over people tell me I am worthy, I am good, I am able, I am going to succeed. The ones who don't believe in that have a right to their opinions. those who are against me do not matter to me. People who throw me under the bus in order to succeed do not matter to me.

Tomorrow I will walk in there and I will follow up on that unbelievable motherfucking "insubordination" bullshit and I will demand it be put on my file. I will demand. Because fuck you. And then I will continue with my life, in whatever capacity, whatever opportunity comes next. And I will succeed. And I will fucking conquer. I will fucking conquer.

Fuck you, you fucking whore. You are an ignorant idiot who has no fucking idea who I am. I'll show you. I'll show you.

Defeated

"How was today?", Mom asked.

Shitty. Really seriously shitty. I slept in because I was up all night crying. I went in late with bloodshot eyes that had actual suitcases under them. Not bags, suitcases. I spent nearly every moment either fighting back tears (fucking hormones!) or holding myself back from punching a wall. I spent every other moment smiling and laughing and pretending everything was wonderful.

I did tell them I wasn't going to help out anymore. If they don't want me for the job, I'm not going to do it for free. And have everyone say "are you getting the job?" and having to say "no, they don't think I'm good enough." Maybe I'm not good enough.

I've decided to start my own Work to Rule, like the teachers did when I was in school and they didn't want to strike. I'm going to do my own job and only my own job. Not that it will be easy. My own job is so fucking boring and easy that it takes about a 10th of my time. I went through my task list and at least half of the tasks are things I started doing because I was so bored.

I'm not quietly making their lives easier anymore. The problem with that, though, is that I'm also not making the lives of our residents any better and that's what I want to do more than anything.

I'm so frustrated.

Defeated.

Hope

Hope is a strange thing, though, isn't it? Even after all of the bullshit of the past few days, the despair, the crying, the disillusionment, I still thought about applying. Like, seriously considered it.

Where is that voice in my head that's supposed to tell me I'm a fucking idiot? Did I kill it? Was that area of brain cells that were attacked when I was smoking all of that weed? Do I still believe in myself? Even though everyone and everything keeps telling me that I shouldn't? 

I just don't know where to turn. I feel like an idiot. I feel embarrassed and stupid. For putting my faith in these people. But maybe I still have a little faith in me. Do I? SHOULD I? 

That's the real question then, isn't it? I keep thinking maybe they all know something I don't. Maybe they know I can't or that I'm an idiot or that I'm undeserving or just not fucking capable. Are they right? Maybe they're right? What if they're right? What if they're right???

Help

Edit: Okay, I was wrong. Found this in my drafts folder, written December 19th. I did drive to the liquor store in icy weather after consuming a bottle of wine, by the way. That was a bad day. But I still had hope. Now? I don't know what to have. 

So, I figured I'd try this before I drive to the liquor store in icy weather after already consuming a bottle of wine. And before calling the booze delivery service. Because - WHAT THE FUCK? Is it really that bad?

Yeah. Mostly.

I'm so frustrated. So frustrated. Mostly work stuff. Jeff and I are doing great, health is fine, I've been losing weight, my hair is growing in pretty good. Mother fucker, can I stop working this job then? Seriously? What do I need to do? How long will this go on? I'm going to lose it. I'm ready to lose it.

But then I remind myself that I've been thinking that for over three years now. Well, a little less than three years, I guess, because the first month or two held a lot of hope. Nevertheless, it's been a long time. So, if I've lasted this long without losing my shit, what's another month or two, or four... but really... how fucking long can I deal with this?

As long as you must, Beverly. As long as you must.

This is my version of the song I've been listening to going to work lately. It's from the new Annie movie, called The City's Yours:

"This is just a part of your story
If you got guts you get glory
Anyone can make it, even you
Now's the time, you gotta stand tough
Cuz if you work hard you can rise up
Anyone can make it, even you

Look at me, I'm just blood pumping
You and me are two hearts thumping
We are two souls beating the same beat
So take it all, the city's yours
It's worth fighting for, it's all yours
So take it all, they city's yours
It's worth fighting for, it's all mine, it's all yours

So put your gloves on, start training
You gotta get wet when it's raining
And if you got heart you'll make it through
You see what I see, look harder
You know we're the same when we start off
Four walls, two hands, one heart beating
So take it all, they city's yours
Ask it for more, when it takes a toll
So take it all, they city's yours
It's worth fighting for, it's all mine, it's all yours"

Bit-ch

First of all, let me just say that I'm very pleased to see that I haven't made an entry into this blog in four months. Seeing as this is where I come to bitch and whine and complain and moan and boohoo, and knowing I haven't needed that in all this time is a good thing. However, I think I'm about to make up for lost time.

Secondly, I just had the weirdest, crazy epiphany that I want to talk about it instead of what I want to cry about. Just for a moment, though, and I'll get back to the whoa is me bullshit, no doubt. The epiphany came when I got into the car as soon as Jeff left for work and drove to Wendy's so I could have a burger and fries to go with my flask of whisky and tears.

Believe it or not, this is the first time I've had a full size burger since July. I've been eating quite well and taking care of myself. Even on shittier days, when I felt like binging, I've pigged out on veggies and hummus or grapes or maybe a few Tic Tacs. But not my old school burgers and fries, then chips and chocolate, then ice cream and candy, then vomit, then more candy, more chocolate, maybe some popcorn because all of the chips are gone kind of days.

And what I realized is that I never ate that way to make myself feel better, I ate that way to make myself feel worse. It wasn't medicine, it was punishment. Huh. Who knew? All this time. I feel shitty and all I want to do is stumble and vomit and cry and beat myself up. I might not have acted this way in a long time, but I'm certainly going to tonight.

Just not sure I want to talk about it right now. Maybe I'll come back and write more. Maybe I'll just cry it out and move on.

No, this is pretty bad. It's going to take more than crying, I think. We'll see.