Public Diary: Bad Day, The Diaspora of My Family

Public Diary: Bad Day, The Diaspora of My Family

The time for my quarterly breakdown has come. The cycle of this blog is on track once again.

I woke up this morning knowing it was going to be a bad day. I had a dream about my dead dad who turned out to be a paid actor pretending to be my dad, so I literally woke up feeling shitty.

My antidepressant stopped working at the end of last month, I upped my dosage and it still doesn’t work. I’m at a loss on what to do. I didn’t want to switch medication because I was doing really well at first. It’s been a rough month and there is no indication that it’s going to get better anytime soon.

So I woke up at 3:30 with a bad feeling and get ready and go to work and learn that a coworker (who is always late anyway) has called out without a replacement and we’ll be understaffed. This shit happens all the fucking time and no one is ever reprimanded for it so it keeps happening. When we’re understaffed, we all pick up the slack and it makes it harder on everyone who did show up to their job. Within the first hour of the store being open, I’m sexually harassed by a regular tells me that he’s always wondered if I’m kinky, as my name suggests (which, by the way, it doesn’t) and I don’t know how to react because I’m now extremely uncomfortable with this person I see almost everyday. I said no and ignored him while I made other drinks but I feel like I need to say something to him to call him out. I don’t want to get in trouble with my store, but I also think that calling out assholes and publicly shaming them is my right as a person  and if I were to be reprimanded in anyway that I could act out against Smarsmucks for promoting a culture in which baristas don’t feel safe and are required to serve people who demean them. Also, one of my male coworkers told me that I should be used to being asked that because of my name and I was like “fuck you, I should never be used to it because people should fucking respect me no matter what my name is.”

So the day continued and I’m exhausted because they started scheduling me for 5 day weeks, despite my availability and my medical note saying that my anxiety and depression are exacerbated by work and that my limit is basically 52 hours weekly and they’ve pushed me to 60. So I start making mistakes and stress sweating and had to take a 10 minute crying break in the bathroom only to go back out and continue to deal with it. It’s just too fucking much. I can’t stand that someone can just call out and put everyone else in a shit position where they’re doing two jobs. Most of the people I like working with are quitting. I’m a college grad and I feel like I constantly have to prove something when I work there so it doesn’t feel like I’m wasting my degree.

I started the process of applying to grad schools, but since I’m too late in the game for this fall it’s probably going to be another year until I can actually go. I don’t think I can do another year of this, but I don’t know what else I can do or where else I can work that will accommodate my great office job.

So I think about that basically every day that I’m there and it feels like shit.

I’m crying on the way home, I walk and feed Gertie, change into my office clothes, and take off and I get a call from my mom telling me that my brothers are now homeless because their lease expires in two days, and neither of them have looked for another place or employment. A lot of shit went down, but I don’t want to embarrass my family anymore, so suffice it to say that a lot of fucking shit went through the fucking fan and I’m in the fucking middle again because I live close enough to wear my family can always drag me into their constant shit.

I’m resentful because I can’t have anytime to focus on myself or my own mental health because at least one family member is always in crisis mode and ironically, I’m the only one stable enough to help out.

I’m resentful because I am burning myself to keep them warm. But what else can I do? They’re the only family I have and even if we’re divided and broken it’s still important to me that there is hope that we can be an actual family again. I know that my brothers would never act out of their own self interest to help me, but that should not stop me from trying to help them.

All this stuff happened today and it makes me feel weak and stretched out for trying to help everyone, but guilty and selfish for wanting to preserve myself. I’m so exhausted and defeated. I don’t want to fight back anymore and I want to give up on myself because it feels like there is no point fighting to be happy or successful anymore.

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