Tag Archives: crazy

A Spoonful of Magic Helps the Anxiety Go Down….No, Not Really.

12 Dec
Even at 23, I run up to my favorite characters....

Even at 23, I run up to my favorite characters….

The interview at Disneyland is tomorrow and my anxiety levels are a peak. I have been wigging out now for about a week.

 

Last week, Tuesday to be exact, I came home from an invigorating run and my husband told me Fresh & Easy Neighborhood Market might go out of business between March and April.

Seriously, this meme does not even begin to cover it.

Seriously, this meme does not even begin to cover it.

First of all, I LOVE FRESH AND EASY. Words cannot even begin to make y’all understand how much I truly need Fresh and Easy in my life. I think Trader Joe’s is okay. As for Whole Foods? A little out of my price range and both stores near me are actually….not near me. Fresh and Easy has been the sole market for my shopping for three years now.
Secondly, my hubs is currently employed by Fresh and Easy. They give him decent pay and decent hours. Losing Fresh and Easy would be a big blow to my family.

When hubs told me the news, instead of losing my shiz (because that is totally what I wanted to do) I sat down at the computer and decided to apply at a few places.

Since I decided to go to school and do as much of the stay at home mom thing as possible, my work history is less than stellar. I have held down a couple jobs since I was 16 but I do not have many real employable skills yet. (Nothing besides my amazingly awesome personality and ability to beast it in the gym. Haha) The first site I went to was the Disney careers site. Luckily, they had a few positions open. I applied. Then, I received a web-based interview a few hours later. Then, I was asked to schedule an in-person interview.

At first, I was sincerely excited. For the past four years or so, I have wanted to work at Disneyland. I actually moved out to this state with that in mind. It had just never panned out. I went to bed that evening yammering to my hubs about how fantastic my job will be and how completely envious he will be.

The next morning was a different story.

i think i had that creepy face going on too....

i think i had that creepy face going on too….

I was pouring over Disneyland message boards trying to figure out what the interview would entail, how I should dress, what I should say, what the job would be like, if I would get hired, and a lot of other speculations that only the interwebz could grant me. I was starting to go nuts.

Do you think i’ll do well? Maybe they won’t like me? Should I wear this? If my hair is curly, will I look too edgy to get a job there? Do you think they’ll hire me right away or waitlist me? What if I do not get the job? Will we be broke? Will we become homeless? AHAHAHAHAHA!

I warned my husband when he first met me that I am crazy. In fact, I think my actual wording was something like this, “I am the kind of person that stresses out about being stressed out and then will become depressed about being so stressed out. I’m actually probably crazy enough to be committed, but I have been told that my neurotic mess of a self can be endearing and hilarious.” Somehow, he never ran off during any of our initial dates and then later proposed….and then actually married me. He’s probably the crazy one.

Anyway, this poor man has been bombarded with questions he could not possibly have the answers to. We have gone to the mall four times to return and purchase the perfect interview shirt. I have rehearsed my answers to interview questions at least half an hour a day and he is still lovely enough to pretend to listen. I have to give him kudos.

There is nothing magical about this right now. I have been to the point of pulling my hair out. I see my insecurities out in full bloom. I hate the possibility of rejection, no matter who or where it comes from. I am going to breathe today. The interview is tomorrow and I will sleep tonight. I will not scan Disney message boards. I will not try on the same five outfits over and over again asking if I look fat, dumb, or employable. They should hire me and if they don’t then they are crazy. I’ll be fine. I will not let it define me.

This is how i'll walk out of the interview if they do not hire me.

This is how i’ll walk out of the interview if they do not hire me.

 

That “Little Voice”

9 Dec

I cannot remember exactly when that little voice in the back of my head sprang to life and started talking to me, but I do know it has been a dominate force in my life for years and that it developed sometime long ago when I was a pre-teen. The little voice is that terrible narrator in your head telling you rotten statements that are not true. My little voice has always said things like:

you are not good enough
they do not like/love you
you are ugly, stupid, and fat.
you will never become anything.
you will never be important.
you, ultimately, do not matter.

Looking back on my childhood (because is that not where most of our little voices develop those strong vocal chords), I see a connection between my little voice and my mother. My mother has suffered from OCD, anorexia, and serve anxiety for years. The anorexia started when she was a teenager; the other two developed more and more as she became an adult.

I first started noticing my mother’s problems with herself when I was eleven. She would stare at herself for ten to thirty minutes multiples time a day in the mirror in my bedroom. My closet doors were mirrors. I loved dancing in front of them pretending I was Baby Spice, but my mother used them to pick herself apart.

How much older than your father do I look?
I am getting chunky.
Wow, I look haggard.
I am ugly.

She would ask me questions that, as a young girl, I thought were weird. My mom has always been beautiful. Even if she was not my mom, I would think that. She confused me. Why did she not see what I saw?

Hearing my mother’s negative self-talk made me start to look at myself more critically. Where the kids at school right? I was tall, pale, and overweight. I did not really focus on this anymore. I was no longer being teased. I had friends now. I was happy. Or was it all a lie? My mom’s self-hate was contagious. The voice was probably born sometime around here when I was between eleven and twelve.

When my mom would stop eating, I wanted to lose weight her. I wanted boys at school to look at me the way grown men looked at her. When I was between thirteen and fifteen, my mother and I went through an ugly time together. We spent a lot of time eating lettuce and drinking Slim Fast. We were unhappy and constantly telling each other just how shitty we found ourselves to be.

I also picked up on her perfectionist qualities. Anything below an A in school (with the exception of math) was disgusting. I was not going to hold myself to the slacker standards of my peers. I struggled some nights between all my honors/AP classes and extra-curricular activities. I wanted to be fresh and creative to teachers regardless of how long I had to spend on the assignment.

The thing about the voice is: I never was able to make myself happy. No grade was good enough. No compliment was true. No report card filled me with pride. No matter what I did. I was not enough. I always had to be better….but I never actually thought I was better.

Same as my mother, I hit a point when nothing mattered anymore. I graduated and decided to not go to college. I worked for a fast food place instead. I consigned myself to eating and working for barely over minimum wage. I hated myself and wanted to torture myself because I thought living that way was what I deserved.

For almost three years, I have been working on accepting myself. I came out of a major depression and have slowly started to work on things, like that little voice.

Having a child of my own has been a big part of why I want to fix my real flaw. It will not matter if i’m fat, skinny, average, beautiful, or ugly. What will affect my son is how I feel about myself and what I do with my life. I do not want to teach him insecurities and self-hate.

As I approach the end of my first full semester of community college, I am proud. I do not have straight As and, for once, I am alright with that. I worked hard for a steady 3.5, but I did not let the pressure of school, my family, and the little voice get to me. Yes, I had days that I felt like a moron. There were also days I told myself to drop all of my classes because I would never be able to obtain a degree. However, I was able to ignore those thoughts. I was able to push through and, for the first time in maybe…ever, I feel proud of myself. Long ago, I let the voice dominate me. Now I know that even though I will never be perfect, I can still be the most amazing me. (and it may sound cheesy but it’s a big step for me!)