I’m sitting in a Silver Spring Starbucks, waiting for Rev. Susannah to get here, but not really. I needed some time to decompress after my job interview, so I got here early to eat lunch and blog… because of course I did. I think in longhand.
The person who interviewed me was kind and funny, as was I. 🙂 We got along well, and he said that there were a few different positions open, and he was sure they would find a place for me whether it was DBA or not. He asked me a few technical questions, like whether I knew SELECTS and JOINS and all that, and I gave him examples of each. For those not in the know, it’s how to use text to manipulate databases instead of using a graphical interface like Microsoft Access. I’ve said this before, but am saying it again for those who are just joining us (hi!).
We also talked about social media presence and how I felt about jumping on a plane to go and meet a customer face to face. I didn’t have a problem with either, and in fact, would enjoy it very much. I love doing stuff like that, because it’s not personal. I can be in front of customers/a crowd easily because they don’t want to know about my feelings. The interactions are orange juice glass-level deep and are supposed to stay that way (although I do tend to have a jackass magnet on my forehead where people tend to go deep with me whether I want them to or not. It’s awkward at best.).
It’s nice to know that I have someone so interested in hiring me, and I should know by next Monday or Tuesday if I have a job. It’s a salaried position, but there are plenty of opportunities for bonuses when things go well.
Things are going well. I feel so much better in this life, this thing I have created where I’ve been able to focus on myself and no one else. It paid off to be selfish for a while and isolate in order to lick my wounds and get over the massive trauma that the last couple of years have dealt. I feel stronger than I ever have, because I have come into the fullness of myself. I am so much more than the credit I’ve been able to give myself in the past. I’m still bipolar, so it’s not like I’m not going to have ups and downs, but they are less extreme and highly manageable now. Having drugs on board (Neurontin & Klonopin) that are specifically designed to take away the physical responses to anger have slowed me down long enough to really make me think before I react. It’s a lot harder to rattle me, and therefore, a lot harder to say things to me that will end up with me spiraling out…. which I hope never happens again. Once was enough to last my whole life.
I am trying to create the Zen-like countenance that comes with age and experience. I have enough behind me to prepare for the future without being so afraid of everything and trying to cover it up. It’s okay to say, “I’m afraid.” It’s okay to say, “I’m angry,” as long as it doesn’t come with a rash of words behind it that are just designed to hurt. That’s the part that comes with not being vulnerable. That’s the cover up. It’s important to know the difference between those two different versions of myself, the one I want to throw away and the one I want to keep. I do not want to live my whole life as a person who hides from their emotions in order to keep people at a distance, most often by keeping them from wanting to interact with me in the first place. It worked so well with Argo that I spend a lot of time regretting the things I’ve said in the past and trying to reach peace within myself so I can stop feeling like such a douchebag.
I have received the blessing of her forgiveness, but it’s not about that anymore. It’s about not being that person in the first place. The person who reacts instead of responds. Reaction is the first thing that comes to your mind, and not the reasoned, well-conceived idea you have that comes up after some thought.
It’s something that helps at work, too. What would happen if we all took a breath before responding to that e-mail? You know, the one you get where your eyebrows go over your forehead? Facebook is full of reaction instead of response. We destroy each other over stupid shit when it just isn’t necessary. Even I am guilty of it. I’m just trying to stop because I see the problem.
Some people never do.
Stories That Are All True 