Written Whispers

I’m not sure what I am at the moment. I’d like to say I’m feeling depressed still over the whole work thing but I’m just not certain. I am still upset but the name for some of these particular emotions eludes me. I’ve noticed a change in myself at work and I’m not sure I like it. Given all change is scary, even good changes and I am one of those people more frightened by changes than most but it’s more or less the type of change I’m seeing that I don’t like.

When I first started working there it was a move out of desperation. In the foster home day in and day out- I needed a way to get out of the house and be around other people especially adults. Being suddenly thrust into a house with six other teenage girls hadn’t proven healthy for me, I’ve just never been able to get along with those in my own age group very long in the first place. Being forced to room with them, being forced to hide my spiritual beliefs and practices, being told that those I love didn’t love me, and being subjected to a lifestyle I had thought too unique to happen to me more than once a lifetime… Like I said I needed to get out of the house really, really badly.

So, when I started to work there I was really happy. I didn’t care about my paychecks. I never got to keep much of the money anyway and often mailed it out to safe places right after cashing them. My only incentive was that I was getting out of the house. Then when I got out of foster care and started to live with my Hunny I didn’t really have that need anymore. In fact the first few months we were living together I called in sick more times than you can imagine just to spend more time at home.

Eventually I got restless and was fully back at work but now it was just so I would have something to do during the day. My paychecks still weren’t and have never been incentive for me to work. I just liked working before but now…

Well, after what they’ve done and with the knowledge that they won’t ever let me work in any department other than dishwashing… to top it off I’m often training newbies who make more than I do (I said the money wasn’t incentive I never said it didn’t matter). I’ve noticed I haven’t been working as hard these past few days. I feel like I have an attitude problem though no one else has said anything yet. When I work I feel angry and resentful at some of the smallest things that I’ve always dealt with without complaint before. How no one has time to say thank you or how the cooks put their pans in the wrong spot leading others to get burned or dishes to break in an area of my responsibility. I get ruffled at the slightest comment about my ability to lift things and I’ve found that I’m starting to take short cuts in my work that I would never let my newbies take before (given I know they do when I’m not around and it doesn’t hurt much but it doesn’t ensure the quality of the job).

It just seems like I’m not caring as much as I should. All my life people have called me lazy or told me I’m not good enough so when it comes to a job I tend to push myself pretty far to get it done right. I like to go above and beyond. I don’t complain I just get it done. That’s how I am so you can see why these changes have me worried. I don’t like being like this. It’s not normal for me and they aren’t good changes.

I just don’t know what to do. I’m in online education so for the mean time I can’t really get another job, it’s not like I live in an area abundant with employment opportunities anyway and to be honest I don’t think I have any skills.

I’m feeling very useless right now. Maybe I am lazy, maybe I am weak, maybe I don’t have skills. I know I want to work hard, I want to be good at what I do or at least be good enough to be needed. I want to know how I feel about this whole situation. I want to have my ambition to get my school stuff done, I want to have ambition to get my job done even if I don’t like it. I want to like working again.

So, for now all I can do is write. I’m feeling lost and what’s worse is I kind of want to feel angry about all this. My mind says anger achieves nothing and the way I feel like acting out at work is immature but I just can’t help it. The rest of me wants to sulk, pout, scream, and shout. Oh, spirits I pray for guidance.

I’m still kind of depressed but I think I’m getting better. It must be part of that seasonal stuff on top of the topics I’ve been writing about lately as well as stress. I have quite a bit of that on a daily basis but this week seems a bit worse.

Never fear though, I’m still alive and forever writing. I’m sitting her at work, an hour or so earlier because my Hunny had to work at a different time than myself, and figured why not make a blog post. This month is one with the least amount of posts which is strange because it seems like I’m writing every single day. Sometimes I wonder what I’m working on or achieving when I write or needlessly revise but it’s a nice escape never the less. I have music from some anime blaring in my headphones so I can drown out the fact that I’m about to clock into a job I hate and have to work in because of my limited abilities (see post Utterly Heartbroken). I like music in other languages. It’s nice to just sit there and have to feel what’s going on without any help from the lyrics. To translate the rhythm, beat, and tone into some barley tangible emotion that maybe only you can find in that song. It’s almost pretty. There’s a piano in the background and it sounds like a choir or large group singing it.

I like language. I mean, being a writer of course I like words, but I love language in general almost as much as I love the craft that takes my words and turns them into worlds and magick, people and paradise. When I was younger I thought myself bits and pieces of Gaelic and other old Celtic words from various books and committed them to memory. This was mostly from encyclopedia like books, I was sufficed to say strange for my age.

Whenever I would read about Celtic history and such I would come across symbols, Runic and otherwise and when I saw these I would immediately try to find out what each of them met. When I found out that Runes could correspond to the alphabet I started using them to write in my journal to keep it a little more secret. With my spiritual beliefs I also tried to write these entries without the alphabet, using only their symbolic meanings but it made it difficult to translate later on because what one meaning could mean to you one day could mean something entirely different another especially as you grow and change yourself.

Another Runic set of letters I came across was Ogam also spelled Ogham. It was used in various languages and sometimes called the alphabet of bonding or death. I liked this one a lot because it was easier to understand and no one I knew had ever heard of it. From there I began to teach myself the Theban symbols (not as well as the others, alas) as well as others.

Symbols and letters and words have always been a part of my daily life. I don’t know how else I would express myself without them though I often wonder about things…

When I was younger I didn’t speak a whole lot and often went weeks or even months without uttering a single sound. It was fairly normal for me. Sometimes I think back to times in my life when I should have remained silent and I wonder what it would be like to be mute? I still don’t speak a whole lot in present day but I do talk a lot more than I used to. In a way I’m lucky I guesse because I only take the time to talk when I think I have something worth saying. Most of my words are thought out in advance, though this doesn’t always help I think I’m a foot further up the hill than many my age who often say things without meaning or pretense.

What would it be like to be mute as a writer? To only be able to express oneself through the written word? What would it be like to be deaf? To know no words or the sound of the rain? Could one write without knowledge of words? What would it be like to be blind, deaf, and mute? To have nothing but your thoughts to keep you company?

I think I would enjoy being mute as a writer but I don’t think I could stand to lose those other senses. That’s almost like wondering what I would do if I suddenly lost both hands. The tools to my trade… nope. I couldn’t live that way, but still…

To be soundless except from the sound of pen on paper and fingers on keys…. :) now that is an interesting thought indeed.

*sigh* Today was actually a very good day. I went back to work after a nice week and a half off. I was happy, see, I may not like my job too much but I really do love to work. I like to do things and be useful and I like being the one people turn to when they need something. I’m a dishwasher of sorts at a resort. I’ve been there for three years and though the position is miniscule I am a big help. Even chef comes to me when they’re looking for something or need someone to run errands. I can fix any of the machines and often train the newbies or work with them their first days.

I’ve been there for three years now. I started when I was 16, it was a great way to get out of the foster home and make some money at the same time. It’s not a job I should be doing to say the least. I’m a very tiny person with several bone problems primarily in my right hip and along my spine. I get very self conscious when people see me stand or walk and just happen to notice. Because of these problems I can’t life a whole lot and I really shouldn’t be lifting entirely as much as I am able. It often makes me feel bad that the other workers have to pick up my slack and I try to push myself harder but it only seems to make things worse.

Last summer, well, maybe midsummer I started working in another position in the same department. The idea was less lifting and getting out of the dish room now and then. I was helping to manage the buffet. I cut (and served) prime rib and refilled pans. I took it very seriously and prided myself and being polite to people, even the drunks who came up and hit on me *shudders at a not so fond memory involving the words ‘brisket’, ‘dream’, and myself*. I loved it. For the past year I was starting to feel less needed in my old position, useless, especially since there was much I couldn’t do.

Well, being a seasonal resort, when summer ended and just before snowfall we stopped having the buffet. Just for a little while. I was ensured that it would be back shortly after snowfall and that I would be working again. In the mean time I did dishwashing like I was in between buffets. It was normal. About 6 weeks ago though my name was no longer on the other schedule. My Hunny (who works at the same place but a way different department) mentioned it first, he often double checks for me when I have to work. I went through and I saw it but I just passed it off as us not having buffet for awhile, the other workers of the same position also did mornings and mornings still had buffet so I assumed that’s why they still appeared. You know, saving printer ink.

I went in tonight and I had to pass through the main restaurant for my uniform and then go to other one to work. There was a buffet. No one told me and I still wasn’t on the schedule, trust me, I actually wore my glasses to check. Still, I didn’t think anything of it. I was needed at the other restaurant, surely, I would be back as of next weeks schedule.

The night went on and I actually had fun working with someone I wasn’t entirely fond of. It was a good night full of hard work and I even helped to make egg rolls. :P We got everything done and didn’t even have to soak anything over night, I was quite pleased with myself and double proud of my newbie who’d shaped up this last month of so and worked hard despite having a bit of a fever. I made sure to tell her as much.

At the end of the night I sat in the waiting area and read out by the fire like usual until my Hunny was done with his shift and we started to head home. This is when my heart broke and don’t worry it’s not how it sounds at first.

My Hunny pulled off to the side, we weren’t yet out of the resort, in fact I don’t think we’d left my restaurant yet. He pulled over and told me he had a talk with my boss… My Hunny had been worried from the start and finally after seeing for himself that we had a buffet he asked my boss what was up and if I was going to be on next weeks staff.

Apparently the decision had been made a long time ago and sadly no one had the heart to tell me but they decided not to let me do it again this season. "It was a lifting issue". Apparently I just can’t carry enough even though there’s less lifting in this new job. I actually cried. I’m sure this sounds stupid but I’ve been crying for a couple of hours now. I loved working out there and I took pride in it. They should have told me. I should have been angry that they didn’t but I wasn’t. I was, and still might be a little, angry at myself.

My Hunny tried to comfort me. He told me it wasn’t my fault but honestly I think I would feel better if it was my fault. Then I would have a better reason to feel bad, then I could have some control over it, then it really would be just what I want it to be. I want it to be my fault so I can blame someone. How horrid is that?!

A lot of people knew about the decision, a lot of them had the chance. Good goddess knows I’d been hinting and kind of asking. I’m not the brave type, heh.

This really probly will seem stupid. I shouldn’t get so upset but I am. I love working and I loved that job because it was something I could do and now they’re telling me I can’t because I’m unable to. To be honest I felt perfectly capable at the time.

I feel horrible. On top of it all I have other workers in the same department, whom I’ve never actually worked with before, say right behind me in hearing range that I’m a bad worker and I don’t work hard. I’m happier to just be called lazy. I know I’m that but I do work hard for others. I don’t complain about my job at work, a little at home and a lot about the newbies but still! Maybe it’s for the best. I’m so depressed right now. I’ve been depressed for the passed few days anyway’s, it’s seasonal and part of ‘my issues’ but adding this to it… I’m not sure what to say except that I feel utterly heartbroken and sad. I’ve never been at such a loss for fancy words and heart felt metaphors.

My Hunny was actually contemplating not telling me till after Christmas, bless his heart for telling me then instead of later. On the way home he stopped at a as station and bought me six things of ice cream, each in my favorite Ben & Jerries flavors and two stuffed animals. He’s such a dear for cheering me up. I smile for him but I still feel horrible. If only it had been for another reason. If only it had been something I’d done wrong but not. It had to be because I can’t lift as much as anyone else. I myself only weigh like 98 pounds if I’m lucky and remember to eat five times a day, sex if I’m sick.

I feel like cursing and kicking myself and then falling to the floor and bawling again. I really wish it was my fault.