Surprise, surprise. I’m
having a difficult time – yet again. I
don’t know if the difficult times every truly subside for me or I’m just able
to focus on something else long enough to distract me from the pain that
lingers inside due to feeling lost and displaced.
These past couples of weeks have been hard. Mix that in with the fact that it is my PMDD
time and women with PMDD should try really hard to relieve what stress they
have in their lives. I didn’t get much
of a chance to do that.
We had a fire at our house on April 16th. Not too much damage was done, but the smoke
was horrible inside the house and wasn’t livable. We moved in with the in-laws for a bit and
then decided to move into a hotel. It
was nice at first. We were able to go
down to the pool whenever we wanted (except on the days when they were having a
cheer competition and little girls infested the entire place!!). They have a really nice continental
breakfast. It kind of reminded me of all
the summers of traveling.
Then I had my interview for transferring to a new graduate
school. I can never gauge those things
and I’ve never participated in a group interview before. It was really intimidating and even more so
when several of the students interviewing already go to the school. I left an hour early from work to give myself
ample time to grab some lunch and then find a parking spot. I ate crap from KFC, which was all carbs and
didn’t help anything (but what’s new, the hubby and I have been eating out a
lot since the fire since we don’t have a kitchen and have a teeny tiny little
refrigerator). Then I was trying to find
a parking space and I pulled up to go into a deck until I realized you had to have
a student pass. Well, obviously I didn’t
and needed to back out. There was a car
that had pulled in behind me and I signaled for her to let me out. She started flailing in the car and flicking
me off. I stopped traffic to back
out. I did that AGAIN in another parking
area. I called the graduate office to
help me out and the student worker started spouting off road names and I was
like, look – I don’t know this area at all.
Finally, I just parked in the faculty parking lot. It was the only one that didn’t have a little
gate down. By that point, I didn’t care
if I got ticketed. I got up to the
interview a MINUTE before it
started at noon. It was so nerve
racking.
I think I did ok.
I just don’t know. I
have such a lack of confidence in myself.
The main reason I wanted to transfer is so that I could have a
connection and an opportunity to network with people. But the problem with changing something YET
AGAIN, is having to start new and fresh.
Explaining yourself and your story all over again. And every time I explain that I’m not from
here, I get awkward silence and people’s body language tend to withdraw from
me. I don’t know if they think I’m
better than them…but that couldn’t be further from the truth! If anything, I’m so insecure and want people
to know that I’m open and accepting, but because of the way I grew up, I’m
shunned. But yet if I don’t mention
that, I get looked at weird because I’m not from here. Just like I was expected to know the streets
down town where I was trying to find a parking spot! It’s such a catch-22 and it gets exhausting.
And this is why I feel defeated all the time. This is why I feel lost and like a
loser. This is why I get fed up and want
to sleep all the time. I feel like if I
was plucked from the face of this earth, it wouldn’t change the picture at
all.
It’s so easy for others to say, take medication and be
better. Guess what, I do take medication
and it doesn’t take away the pain and reality that I feel like a misfit in
society.
It’s so easy for others to say, go see a counselor and have
them solve all your problems. I’ve been
to multiple counselors over the years who just don’t seem to understand that I
struggle with cultural and identity issues along with hormonal issues that
magnify these existing problems on a monthly basis.
All I can do, sometimes, is get my thoughts and feelings out
into the open. I don’t know if it
changes a single thing. I don’t even
think it helps me anymore. But it’s the
one thing I have left to do to keep my sanity.
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