I will finally admit it to all of you. I hate my job. I’ve realized my drinking has increased. It’s nearly nightly now. I’m displacing my anger and lashing out at the kids nights and mornings before work. It occurred to me the other day when breaking down in front of a friend that it’s my job.
It’s not the move. Ok, not entirely. I realize how much support I did have back in Tennessee. I realize how great my friends were there.
I’m semi-happy in the new house. I feel immense guilt for leaving the dogs all day and dread coming home to the mess I have to clean up. I can’t replace flooring because of them and must live with the shitty flooring left by the previous owners. That pisses me off.
I need to make the money I’m making to afford the house, our lifestyle. I need to work for my sanity. But I need to be doing something I like. I don’t like being an assistant.
I generally don’t like people that can’t do for themselves. I don’t like keeping calendars, reminding people of things, catering to people I don’t respect. The stress of their problems being mine.
What do I do? I can’t go back to school. I’m too old, I’ve got the boys. I don’t have the time or money. I can’t exactly expect to meet someone that will maybe one day let me take another job to reduce my anxiety and stress because I’m raising my children. They’re not going to pay for me and my children when they’re not their own. No one is going to take care of me or them. I have to do all of this myself.
I could move to a smaller home. That means in a worse neighborhood with worse schools.
I could look for another job but I’m stuck doing the same thing I have experience in. Changing jobs every year is poor resume material.
I obviously need to see a counselor here and find a psychiatrist to help with my meds.
I obviously need to change my attitude. Suicide isn’t an option any longer with the boys. I’ve done this all to myself. Can anyone offer words of encouragement? I’d greatly appreciate any suggestions.