I can’t lie. I’m in a very dark place right now. 99% of it is because of work. The other 1% is just life. Yesterday was spent dealing with issues that are a direct result of what the bridge troll I work with has done. I’m done with that. As of today, anything I have found that she’s done wrong is being tossed directly to my boss and he can deal.

I have been shown my worth by admin and higher positions. Oh sure, they say how they value me, and to an extent they do, but when it comes down to it, faculty will be put first, even when they are the arsonist to the department’s fire. Actually, it’s worse than that, she’s being handed the blow torch and gasoline. Then rest of us clean up the ashes.

I guess really, the root of why this bothers me, is because it reflects how my mom is. Me, me, me, even when it causes harm to others. I’m accepting that they don’t care about what BT does, because that security is there to fix the harm. I’m at the point where if they want to set the example that what she does doesn’t matter, then I want to follow their lead. Let the mistakes go through. Why make any deal about them, let alone a big deal?

Since this isn’t my nature, I’m finding the adjust hard, but necessary. In thinking deeper, I realize that what I’m feeling is the same abuse and trauma stuff mom has put me through. Being told you aren’t good enough, you don’t matter, well, it’s not as much that I’m hurt, it’s that I am putting my foot down. I will not be treated that way. You may continue to try, but I don’t have to follow along. It’s always the attitude that everyone is replaceable. To some extent, that’s true. New bodies can fill old positions. There is no denying that. But shitting on the ones in the position now? Stupid.

Beyond work, I went last night to get my hair cut. Even took pictures of exactly what I wanted. She did almost that, but softened it. I hate it. It’s so minor, but it’s not what I wanted or asked for. Plus I swear, the way every single stylist fixes my hair after a cut makes me feel 75 instead of 55. I know I’m not 25, but for the love of god, why is there a need to make things “age appropriate.” It didn’t look bad by any means, I just felt like once again I wasn’t listened to. I cried when I got home. I cried before bed. Woke up, looked in the mirror and cried again. I didn’t wash it, but fixed it a little more like what I wanted, but instead of having a style that makes me feel powerful and confident, I feel ugly.

Even my cousin that I work with is noticing the shift in me. He said this morning that he hopes I don’t take it wrong, but my light has gone out. I’m not Karen. My optimism and hope is muted right now. This is probably the time I should reach out, communicate, and share. Reality is that I want to just disappear. I don’t need to be mattered, but when it feels like some go out of their way to show you that you don’t … you end up questioning what does matter. I’m in a place where when I ask myself what matters, the answer is “not much.”

It will get better. Every day is a day closer to retirement. I think that’s the big heart ache right now is that it is so far away. Taking a 2 week vacation from work would be a joy, but the pain of coming back would be horrible. Just another episode of “what could be” and I don’t like that show.