Being happy without rubbing everyone's nose in it

As you'll find with my rambling posts, I tend to cover a lot of subjects.  None of these thought processes are worth an entire post, but I'd like to share them all.

Today, I'd like to cover several things.  A little more history about myself (just so I can later reference certain parts of my life without having to fully explain it then and there), trying to be upbeat without upsetting others, and the fact that I still see caps whenever I look at images online.

I'll probably end up going off on some tangent and talking about other things as well, but for now I want to start with those topics.

I'm actually going to save the history for last, as it's quite long and it's not necessarily something I want to actively discuss... just put out there.  So let's start with staying upbeat without upsetting others.

I try to always be positive.  Even when the glass is mostly empty I want to focus on the fact that there is SOME water there and not worry about the lack of it.  It may not be apparent though in my writings.  Whether I write about my own caps, about things happening in my life or other subjects I tend to talk about the negative things.  One primary reason for that is that I don't want to upset anybody.

For example... there have been caps that I was particularly proud of.  The story might have been exceptional told, the image might have been a great find, the image manipulation may have been done seamlessly, or the layout may have been particularly creative.  But whenever I went to write out those things, I had a voice in the back of my head whispering about how I was bragging.  Whispering that I was flaunting something to other cap makers and therefore being a royal dick.  So while I occasionally shared my prideful moments, I more often than not would focus on the negative aspects.  Like; Sure, the layout might be nice but that story really didn't come out well.  Or; Hey I think this story is fun but I really whiffed on the layout.

The reason I'm bringing this up now is that I have a lot of things in my life that I'm currently proud of.  My new job of course, but more than that is the fact that the money my job earning lets me buy the nice things and do the nice things I've wanted to do for so long.  Some are more altruistic than others... like finally after almost 20 years of building up a student loan debt, stating to pay it off.  Or that I can finally look forward to NPR's autumn fundraising drive as I'll be able to honestly donate to what I think is a very worthy cause.

But others... well no matter how happy I am about them, they still sound like bragging.  Getting Fiona.  Getting a new smart phone.  Taking my mom out for dinner.  No matter where I look, everything that I'm enjoying seems to be rubbing someone else's nose in my success.  Yes.. I love my job, but I don't feel great talking about it around home because my brother is still stuck in the part time hell hole job that I was in for years.  Being happy about my job is like laughing in his face about HIS job.

I'm so happy about Fiona, but my brother is driving Lita.  He can't afford the insurance, so I'm still paying that and he can't afford the repairs on her so if she breaks down I'll pick those up as well.   When I started this blog I went a little car crazy, but now I feel bad about gushing so much with all the car trouble Dee is having.

Even something simple like my new smart phone (a Galaxy S4) isn't easy to be happy about.  I'm going to visit some friends this weekend.  Earlier this year they both had to give up their smart phones simply because they couldn't afford the monthly bill that included a data plan.  So while I'm honestly happy that I can afford such a luxury, talking about it in front of them will probably come across as "HA HA, I can afford something that you Can't!"

It's strange though because even at my worst times I've been able to celebrate other's happy moments.  Many of my friends have gotten married.  While each time I was reminded of my own lack of long term relationship, I was too focused on being happy for them to let my own failings dampen the mood.  Or when my brother got his new car I didn't even think about my own beat up ride... I was sharing his happiness.

So if I feel that way, why can't I assume others will be happy for me?  I have good friends and good family.  They aren't mean spirited or selfish, so they should be able to help me celebrate... but I still find myself holding back.  I've even started bitching about my job to my brother.  I can't bitch about much so I actually have to put some thought into something that I can complain about.  I haven't shared with him that I've impressed every person who's taken time to train me.  That would be bragging.   That would be boasting.

Anyway... I'm trying to shed that side of myself.  It will take a long time for me to shake it off in the real world with my friends and family on this side of the screen, but I'm going to try and be more open and happy here in the digital world.  Just know that I'm not suddenly boasting or becoming a prideful person. I'd hate to be thought of that way.



On to greener pastures.  I thought when I hung up my capping hat that I'd be done with the whole scene.  I still find it rare to read a cap and get honest enjoyment out of it, but I'm still drawn to reading them.  I think it's just a way, no matter how passive, to keep in touch with everybody.  When it comes up I can always say 'Oh yeah, I read that cap.  Nice layout!'.

Several times though that I've been just bouncing around the web I've come across images that immediately struck a capping chord within me.  Sometimes it inspires the bones of a story, but most of the time they just look like they would make a good cap.  I figured that I could at least share these images here... maybe somoene could use them or maybe (just maybe) they could inspire me to dip my toes back into the capping world.

Here's one that I found this morning.

It more than likely caught my eye as it has the same spot colored style that I've used so often for title graphics on Caitlyn's Masks.  But one it did catch my eye I took a closer look and realized just how perfect it could be for a cap.   First there is that androgynous hairstyle.. yes I think that could easily be a young man wearing that hair.  With the mask hiding more of her face, it could even be a boy under there don't you think?  And then there is the lack of overtly feminine body aspects... specifically no breasts to speak of.

I don't really get a story idea out of this image.  But I could picture it being perfect for a short and sweet story.  The text box could easily fit into the upper left hand corner while the title could fit discretely in the lower left corner.



Now for the history.   I'm fairly sure that most of you have read this, but when I posted it on Caitlyn's Masks I took it down quickly as it shared just to many details of my life.  It's exactly the type of thing that could identify me to prying eyes.  But that was there in the public, and I feel more comfortable sharing this here in private.

Just know that I wrote this when I was feeling particularly depressed.  It was written in March of this year just before I got the interview for the job I now have.  So quite literally it was me at the end of my rope.  I no longer feel that sad even though most of what I say in this essay is still true.  It's certainly not a complete biography of my life, but it does explain a lot of what happened between me graduating high school and getting this job at the prison:

------------Save Me------------

Before I start in on this, I want to warn anybody that this post has absolutely nothing to do with TG.  There are no caps nor even any discussion about Caitlyn.  This is me... asking for help.  Realistically this post goes out to maybe a dozen people who have shown that they care about me beyond my art. 

So... if you are here for the caps or want to hear me wax poetic about my struggle with Calvin/Caitlin, then this isn't for you.  I may make a cap later just to make up for this post.  To those who do care about me... I'd really like some help with something. 

Now that I'm speaking to the audience I'd like, I need to spell out a few more things.  First and foremost, I'm not feeling suicidal.  At least not in the classical clinical sense.  I want to make that VERY clear.  This post is going to be depressing and at times it may seem like this is either a cry for help or a 'goodbye'... but it isn't. 

As you read this, you may ask yourself why I'm not talking to my family or my close friends about this.  This isn't about Caitlyn, so I should be able to talk to them.  But I need someone who isn't as close to me as they are.  Who hasn't necessarily seen me go through these things.  Who can give me some hard advice... and yes, someone who can't force me to get help. 

I guess I should start this out with a simple question:

When is it time to give up?

This question has been boiling around my head for some time now.  I could have worded it as 'When is it time to give up on your dreams?', but I've already given up on several dreams.  And if I were to use those examples now, then that time has  passed... but I'm all out of dreams.  So if I give up on this one, I have no idea where to turn. 

As people who know me beyond my caps, you know that I graduated from Nursing School in December of 2011.  You know that I failed my first attempt at the NCLEX, and that I finally passed it in June of 2012.  I'd be easy to base this story on that, but I think I need to go further back... and let me tell you I am so scared to put this out here publically as ANYBODY who knows me in real life will surely be able to identify me with this information.  Let that be a sign as to how serious I am feeling about this and how important it is to hear the full story.

I graduated High School with the rare gift of knowing exactly what I was going to be.   I was going to be an optometrist.  I've had terrible vision throughout my life and all the doctors that helped me gain what vision I have were a huge inspiration to me.  I wanted to be that person to someone else... I wanted to give the gift of sight to others.  I attended two years at a community college because they offered me a scholarship, and then attended the region's best school for optometry.  I went there for a year, but it was a struggle. 

I didn't struggle so much with the scholastic nature.  Instead I struggled with myself.  It was a great goal to have in high school, but the more I learned about myself the more I thought I had more to offer than being an eye doctor.  I had a part time job with the university photographer and I felt something stir in me doing that.   Whether it was helping him set up a portrait of some university official, or working in the dark room, I felt a side of me stir.  By my third semester at the university I was actually ditching classes to go work as an assistant photographer.  And I'm not talking about ditching statistics or english lit.. I was bailing out on organic chemistry and physics... things I would need to know if I were to be an optometrist. 

I started to struggle with the whole idea of being an optometrist.  I started dreaming of being a photographer.  Following this dream would mean giving up on three years of college.  Following this dream would more than likely mean giving up on any kind of financial success, or at least financial stability.  Following this dream would mean starting over... starting a program at the age of 21 when my classmates would be 18.  And let me tell you, it WAS a struggle. 

My head said that I was going to be a great optometrist... that I'd live a good life and be able to support my family.  But my heart said that I'd never find that creative satisfaction unless I picked up the camera.  My heart said that I'd grow bitter if I turned down this opportunity.  For months I was torn... one day I'd be completely gung ho about continuing on my current path while the next day I'd be ready to quit school and move back home.  I must have cried myself to sleep dozens of times as I felt completely torn and was only continuing on because I didn't know how to let go. 

After a very long heartfelt talk with my brother, I decided to go for happiness over stability.  To go for creativity.  My brother, to this day, says he regrets that conversation.  If I had stayed the course and graduated as an optometrist, I would now have almost 15 years of experience under my belt... instead I'm living at home and am practically unemployed. 

But those feeling wouldn't develop for some time.  At that point we both thought that it was a good decision to stop my progression toward optometry and to sign up for a photography program.   I moved back in with my parents and started attending a nearby community college photography program (a different school that I attended earlier).  I know you might scoff at the idea of going to a community college for a photography degree, but I did my research and this (at the time) was one of the best photograph programs out there.  It was a three year program that would end up with an Associate Degree in Applied Science.  There were only a hand full of programs out there as well respected as this one, and most of those were bachelor's programs. 

So for the next three years I put my all into learning how to be a photographer.  It was honestly a very happy time for me.  Not only scholastically, but creatively and socially.  One of the friends I met there is to this day one of my best friends.  In the second year of the program I took a digital photography class.   At this time digital photography was in it's infancy.  For the most part 'Digital Photography' meant taking an image and scanning it (either directly from the film or from a printed photograph) into the computer and manipulating it there.  Digital cameras were still something new.  One of the best digital cameras on the market cost about $25,000 dollars, couldn't do any type of action photography, and made a digital image that was less than a megapixel.   

But something in that basic class called out to me, and I decided to make digital photography my 'major'.  The program was still just an associate program so there were no official 'majors', but everyone in the program would declare their intent.  Art, Portrait, Commercial, Photojournalism, and Digital.  The third year of the program was all about studying your 'major'. 

When I graduated, my friend (who had studied Commercial Photography) and I took our portfolios and moved to Chicago.  It not only was the largest nearby city, it was a major area for Commercial Photography.  By major I mean that only New York City itself had more working photographers.  If I'm remembering the numbers right,  Chicago had about 1200 working commercial photographers.  We both knew that we'd have to cut our teeth by being assistant photographers for several years... but neither of were prepared for what happened.  

We just happened to move to Chicago when photographers were going out of business left and right.  Many photographers that owned their own studios had to end their business and return to being assistants themselves.  The going 'standard' rate of an assistant photographer at the time was about $100 for a day's work.  But there were now assistants with a decade's experience only getting between $50 and $75 a day.  To say we 'scraped by' would be optimistic.   We made rent, and we had food on the table.... most of the time.  I ended up working about 10 total days as an assistant photographer in the year I lived there.  I had to take a job selling computers, but still wasn't making enough money to break even.  By the end of our lease, I had destroyed what little credit I had.  I had no hopes of the situation improving anytime soon as photographers were still going out of business in droves.  Again, if I'm remembering the numbers right there were about 800 working commercial photographers when I left the windy city.  The market was so bad that a third of existing photography studio's failed.  That year. 

So... I tucked my tail between my legs and limped home.  I had to borrow money just for gas otherwise I would have had to walk the 200 miles back to my parents.  It was a very dark time in my life and for awhile I didn't know what to do.  Having a degree in photography didn't really open any doors for a job.  I couldn't even get a job processing film as everyone looked at me as 'overqualified'.  They were afraid that I'd get a better job and leave.  Eventually I started working for another friend.  Originally it was just a computer company.  Think of it as a small town version of what Dell and Gateway were.  We made custom built computers to order.  Eventually we started up a website that was a local portal for our town.  Business that couldn't afford their own website would make mini sites within our framework, and we'd drive traffic to them. 

In short, I learned to be a web designer.  Most of these businesses didn't have any logos or graphics of their own, so I started designing them.  In short, I learned to be a graphic designer.  And of course everyone wants professional photographs for their web presence, so I did get to use my degree in that way. 

I worked at this company for about three years.  It was still a struggle though.   I couldn't afford to move out of my parents place and when my car's transmission broke down, I couldn't even afford to have it looked at, let alone fixed.  It was a two man operation... my friend who owned the company and me.  We brought in friends to help when needed, but it was more or less an even split on the work... he drummed up business, I took care of business.  He'd go out and sell the computers, then I'd make them, install all the software, and deliver them.  He'd sell the mini sites, and I'd design and implement them.  He'd set up graphic and photography work, and I'd produce it. 

Each year was better than the last, but that third year something changed.   He got married.  I was overjoyed for him... but his focus changed.  His wife was working as a teacher, so together they bought a house.  All the time he spent searching for that house, getting ready for his wedding, going on his honeymoon, purchasing the house, moving into the house and doing home improvements was time that he wasn't getting us work.  And while I watched him improve his life, I was stuck at home. 

I'm not proud of it... but I was incredibly jealous.   Not just of  the 'things' that he had... but of his life.  I was in my late 20s, living at home without enough money to get my car fixed, and here he was married.   I had long ago vowed that I wouldn't get involved in a serious relationship until I could support myself.  The measuring stick of which was NOT living with my parents. 

Again... I'm not proud of it.  In fact I'm quite embarrassed to say it... but that jealousy broke the company apart.  I became a very bitter person and eventually sought out other employment.  I knew damn well that if I left, the business would fail.  And it did fail soon after I left.  I didn't just ruin my dream of the business by doing that... I ruined his dream.

Around that same time the friend that I moved to Chicago with moved back as well, and invited me to work for the company he was working for.  It was an event photography business specializing in gymnastic events.  The business model was simple enough... we'd go to a gymnastics event (paying the hosting club a percentage of sales), take photos of all the gymnasts (mostly girls between the ages of 4 and 15), and sell photos and photo related items to their parents. 

The hours were incredibly difficult.  These events were spread out across the midwest and took place over the weekend.  The competitions would generally start up at 8am and sometimes wouldn't get done until midnight.  But by working a single event I could get almost 40 hours in.  As the business grew, I grew with it.  When I got there, there was only one 'manager'.  I ended up being the second one, running events myself.  I even started working in the office during the week helping take care of the web orders and set up for future events.   The manager and I became close friends, and I still hang out with him to this day. 

In fact my two best friends in the world are still these two men... the one I went to photography school and lived in Chicago with, and the one I worked with at the event photography business.  Over the next four years the business grew and grew.  We eventually took the business and combined it with a company that provided video's at figure skating events.   Our brand of photography went over wonderfully there.  My friend eventually moved on to other employment and I took his place by running the photography division. 

So far, this story has taken place between 1992 and 2005.  I really felt that I was coming into my own.  I was a salaried employee that loved his job.  Sure... I was working between 60 and 80 hours a week and barely had time to look into my social life, but I really enjoyed the people I worked with and the work I did.   I could see a future.... and I liked the future that I could see. 

But two things happened.  In late 2005 the owners of the company were forced to make a hard decision... they had to close down the photography side of the business.  It wasn't one single thing that lead them to it... but business as a whole was down and the photography side of the business was SO expensive to run.  We were barely breaking even on that side of the business so when video sales started to lag the company started bleeding money.  I was only aware of the photography side, so this came as a real shock.  The first cracks in my future started to show.  I started trying many things to keep the business going.  But then the other shoe dropped.

In early 2006 my father was diagnosed with lung cancer.  I probably could have stayed with the business... I would have just had to learn about the video side, but the owners were sure that I could continue to be a major part of the business.   But for me it was an easy choice... keep working in a job that I wouldn't love nearly as much and be unable to really help my father, or move home and help care for him.   Help him die with dignity. 

That was the last move I've made.  I'm still in my parents' house... my mom's house.  Dad passed away in 2007, seven days before my birthday.  The grief was almost too much to bear.  I not only grieved because of my father's passing.. I grieved because I would never get the chance to make him proud.  To show him that I was ever more than 'his boy'.

It took me several months to get my head clear, but once I did I started working again.  I got a job as a portrait photography at a chain company, but was making only a little more than minimum wage.   I knew I couldn't live off of this, but my hope was to move into management.  So... I struggled.  I struggled to pay what bills I could and not be a burden to my mother who was still grieving.  It was hard for her... she lost her father (my grandfather) six months before losing her husband.  And several months later her health went all to hell.  She had two heart surgeries in less than six months, and I swear she aged about twenty years between. 

Before she lost her father and husband, she was a force of nature.  She traveled across the country to visit with friends and family.  When she went shopping it wasn't just for a few hours... she'd take weekend shopping trips and spend a dozen hours out and about looking for deals and gifts.   She'd get up early, clean, cook, take care of the finances, and spend time doing her crafts for her grandkids.  She could do this day in and day out without a break. 

Now... now she needs to stop while walking up stairs to catch her breath.   She CAN go shopping, but if it's more than an hour she'll be wiped out for the rest of the day... and most of the next.   She gets up late, takes multiple naps throughout the day, and goes to bed early.  I try to help her however I can, but she was always such a fiercely independent woman, that it's hard for her to ever accept help.  When I help her get the groceries out of the car or help her with the laundry it can make her cry.  She cries because she so wants to have the strength to do these things herself, and yet she knows that she can't. 

In a way... I lost both my parents at that time in addition to my grandfather.  I still love my mother with all my heart, but she isn't the same woman any more.  

I mention all of that about her, because I no longer strive to 'move out'.  Yes.. it's be easier for me if I lived on my own and would be a major boost to my self esteem, but I want to be close to her.  My goal now is to not be a burden.  So that made this next decision very hard.

You see after being at this portrait photography business for a year they had a major shakeup.  All of the studio managers had to apply for their job all over.  And anyone was welcome to apply at the same time.   I figured I was a shoe in to get my own studio.  They had just transferred from film to digital (where I had years of experience AND a degree!).  I had almost a year in with the company and was consistently one of the top sales people in our region.  Not only was my photography and sales good, I was also constantly praised for my customer service skills.  In addition to doing well on my own, I was constantly helping out the other studios as only a few of these photographers had ever worked digitally before.  I was even helping the regions official trainer to learn the new software so that she could teach everybody else. 

Well... I didn't get a manager's position.  They did end up removing five of the studio managers, but all of those open positions were filled by other studio managers.  They were now running several studios at the same time.  And to make matters worse the district manager, the regional manager, the regional trainer, and my own studio manager purposefully kept this information from me. 

I'm not proud of how I took the news.   Once my studio manager told me that I didn't get any of the openings, I called up the district manager.  She begrudgingly confirmed that there were now no positions available, and that if any opened I would be considered... but they'd likely just tap another current manager to run the open studio.  In other words... there was little chance that I'd be moving up any time soon. 

So I walked out. 

Of all the jobs I've ever had, that is the first time I quit without giving notice.   Instead of driving home, I drove to my father's grave.  I got down on my knees and cried my heart out.  I knew that he wouldn't have quit a job in a million years.  And here I did it, making myself not only unemployed but a burden on his widow. 

It was there that I made up my mind.  Photography be damned.  Creativity and the happiness it gives me be damned.  That path had given me a few good years, but had ultimately failed me for over a decade.   Before I had taken that job as a portrait photographer, I had toyed with the idea of becoming a nurse.  Sure... I would more than likely never love that job, but it's a career that pays well and is in need.  And it's something that I honestly thought I could do well. 

So that summer I started nursing school.  I wasn't the oldest person in the program, but I was close.  And through a year and a half of 'Pre Nursing' courses and two years of Nursing school I found out something... I DID love doing it.  Walking into a patients room and helping them get better has to be one of the most satisfying things that I have ever done in my entire life.  And that was just as a student nurse... I could only imagine how satisfying it would be to do this as a career. 

I think that may be one of the reasons I was so devastated when I failed the NCLEX.   A small part of me wondered if I COULD do this as a career.  That part of me wondered what I would do if I couldn't be a nurse.  I now have 9 years of college under my belt and only two associate degrees to show for it.  I have about $60,000 in student loan debt to pay back.  And I'm tapped out for federal student aid, so its not like I can just go back to school. 

But that depression only lasted a few months, and I tried to keep those thoughts at bay by studying for my next attempt.   All of that depression and dark feelings turned to bright joyous happiness when I passed.  It was all finally going to come together.  I would be a nurse.  I would be a good nurse.  I would LOVE being a good nurse.  There are constant job offers for nurses in my area so it as only a matter of time before I got my first job. 

And for awhile, my mind turned back to a happy future.  I could start paying off my student loans (I've never paid a single red cent back on my loans).  I could start paying for my bills (cell phone, car insurance, credit card).  I could start helping mom pay for bills and services I used for free (television, Internet, food, electricity, water, garbage..).  I could pay back the money I've directly borrowed from mom (I haven't looked at the numbers, but just from these direct requests I'd guess that I 'owe' her about $7000 since I started Nursing School).  I could even pay her 'rent' so that she'd have more money for herself.  I could get a car that works right.  I could get a cell phone made in the last six years.   I could update my computer.  I could buy games and movies and other forms of entertainment that I've turned my back on for so long. 

And I could start working on my own life.  I could support myself even if I still chose to live with mom... so I could honestly open myself up to having a serious relationship.   I just turned 39 recently... and like a 19 year old I could honestly say that the future looked bright.

But here I am.  I graduated from school 14 months ago.  I've had my license for eight months.  Between graduating and failing the NCLEX, I applied to about 10 jobs... I was a little wary of applying before I got my license (and it turns out that it was good that I didn't get a job then... I would have been fired for failing the test).  Once I DID pass I started filling out applications for jobs that I wanted.  When a couple months passed by I expanded my search to nearby cities.  Then to positions that I didn't really want.  Then to cities further way.  Then to jobs that I know I don't want.   Then finally to any open nursing position in any hospital within 400 miles.  I'd look further, but that would take me into another state, and I'd need to get a license to practice there. 

All told I've put out about 160 applications in the last seven months.   I've received two interviews and one 'test drive'.   One interview was over the phone, and I honestly can't imagine why they contacted me as they wanted someone with at least five years experience.  The other interview was in person, but lasted all of 20 minutes... most of that was me asking questions of her.  I found out that I was going up against other 'new nurses'... but I didn't get the job.  At the test drive I was more or less told that if I wanted to work in that hospital I needed to be at least enrolled in a Bachelor's degree program... and even then they had dozens of 'qualified' applicants to other jobs. 

Each passing week it gets harder and harder to even apply for jobs... as I feel like they will all just lead to further rejection.   And every day that I go without a job, I get further and further from my clinical experience.  Two classes of 'new nurses' have graduated since I started looking for a job.  This isn't just from the school I graduated from... there are nine schools of nursing within 45 miles of my home.   Even if they all graduated as few students as my class did (and I know that some classes graduate A LOT more than my class), that means there are 450 new nurses out there searching just like me.  900 people that are closer to the experiences that hospitals want to see in 'new nurses'.  And another 450 will be graduating in a few short months.   That's 1350 people that shave my experience level in nursing, but are still more likely to be hired. 

That brings me to here and now.   And God... I just don't know how much longer I can wait for my life to start. 

I'm agnostic.... I don't have a faith in God, but I don't just say He doesn't exist out of hand.  But last night I found myself on my knees begging HIM for some sign that my life isn't a waste.   The only sign I got was hearing a new song on the radio.  It was sad sounding and I went to sleep with tears on my cheeks.  This morning I looked up the lyrics and..... God if this is the sign He gave me....

See me take my bows

And I'm heading for the exits

I can't stick around

This life's been hard

And I can't see the sense in fighting it anymore

Can't you let me go

Won't you show me the door

'Cause I've made mistakes

That have hurt the ones I've loved

And I've thrown them under the bus

One too many times

There can be no redemption for a sinner such as I

Won't you wish me to the cornfield now

Won't you help me stop living a lie

So here I am in the corner of a dark room

The same way I began

Alone with these mournful thoughts

And a loaded gun in my hand

But a foolish part of me

Still holds out for a shred of humanity

For a queen in a robe or a knight on a steed

Can't you see that I'm just a child on his knees

Save me from fear and pain

And love will rain on me

Save me today

Before tomorrow finds me at rest

Save me from fear and pain

And love come down and rain on me

Save me today

For tomorrow will find me at rest

Now I'm standing alone in the moment of truth

As the judgement's handed down

And my feet are scarred from the broken glass

Strewn across the ground

Then you come to my side

And only to you I confide

That I've been battered and shattered and bruised and abused

For the very very last time

Won't you help me, just

Save me from fear and pain

And love reign o'er me

Save me, Save me today

For tomorrow will find me at rest

Save me from fear and pain

And love will rain on me

Save me today

For tomorrow, find me at rest

Find me at rest

I imagine you understand better why I felt it necessary to say that I'm not suicidal so early in this post.   Yes... I'm sad.  But I'm not in a state that could be clinically called Depression (I even looked it up to make sure, although as a 'nurse' it's not in my scope of practice to diagnose such a condition). 

I've felt this way before though.  I felt this way when I gave up on Optometry school and went into photography.   I felt this way when I left Chicago.  I felt this way when I left my friends business.  I felt this way when I moved back in with my parents.  I've felt this way when I gave up that last photography job.... it's the sad internal feeling that I get when I have to get myself moving in a new direction.  When all hope is lost and I can no longer bear to continue on the same path. 

But... where can I go from here?  I already went into one of the ONLY occupations where is should be easy to get a job, and I can't even do that.  Think about that... I can't get a job in a field that everyone says is an industry that needs new people and that is growing. 

So I'll ask again:

When is it time to give up?

I'm not talking about giving up on being a nurse... I'm talking about giving up on this 39 year long failed experiment.   I can look back on my life and say that for the most part I've been a kind and loving person.  Yes, I've been angry and yes I've been cruel at times... but overall I am nice.  I'm not nice because I think it will get me ahead... it's my general disposition.  But at times like this, I feel like all it's gotten me is kicked repeatedly. 

According to the World Bank, the life expectancy in the United States is 78.2 years.  If I am going to live to that average age, I'll pass the mid way point of my life in a few months.  But with my family's history with Heart Disease (Father, Mother, both  grandmothers, one grandfather), Diabetes (Mother, Grandmother), and Cancer (Father, both grandfathers, both grandmothers),  I will not likely live to see 70, let alone 78.2.  Only one member of my family lived past the age of 70.  So realistically I've lived well over half of my life. 

And what do I have to show for it?  I'm living with my mother, have a part time job (five hours a week), and am looking for steady employment.  Take away the nine years of college and all the failed careers and I'm in the same exact boat I was when I was 19.  20 years and absolutely nothing to show for it. 

When is it time to give up?

I could delete my entire adult life and besides my friends I wouldn't miss out on a single thing. 

Why DON'T I give up now?  Well... killing myself would hurt my mother in such a deep way that I'm not sure she could recover... or even if she'd want to.  Killing myself would.... hmm....

Not affect much else.  Yes, my bothers would be sad.  Yes, my friends (I'm not just talking about my two best friends, I'm talking about you too) would be sad.  But I don't think anybody could look at my life and say that I threw it away by taking my own life.   I would be throwing away almost nothing. 

I've heard the platitudes before... 'It will turn around', 'Things will get better', 'There's always something to live for.'.... but that can't always be true.   It HAS turned around, but always for the worst.  Things have NOT gotten better.  And if there's something to live for, then I haven't found it yet. 

I don't want to die.  I do want to be happy, and I'm willing to work toward that.  But eventually there has to be a point where it just isn't worth the effort anymore. 

I've been writing this for just under 4 hours now.   After reading it... well damn I feel even worse as I can't find fault with my reasoning.  I'm going to say it again... I am NOT suicidal.  I have plenty of means around me to commit such an act, and I'm not considering any of them.   I plan to spend most of tomorrow applying for more jobs (as I do on most Mondays lately).  I plan to go to work next week.  I plan to help my brother celebrate his birthday in a few weeks.  

I'm not expecting anybody to come up with the answer... I just need to keep plugging away.  I'll write one of my professors to see if there is any advice that they can give on the job front. 

OK... I'm rambling now, even to myself.  So I'll just post this up as is.  

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I believe if I were to write this same story now, I would tell you about so many different things.  My mood has done a complete 180 and every sad part of my life also had joy surrounding it that I could talk about.  While struggling to give up on Optometry I was sharing an apartment with two girls (!!!) and traveling to visit a friend at the University of Michigan most weekends.  While struggling in Chicago I was living in a vibrant amazing city having experiences that can't be reproduced anywhere.  Every joy is surrounded by struggle, so therefore every struggle is surrounded by joy.  

Love,

C