Thinking About Life: July 11, 2017
After careful consideration, I have decided to quit my ghostwriting job. It just was not worth it anymore. I sent them an email about it and their only response back was literally, “Oh, wow!” and I have not heard anything since. I was so nervous when I did it.
At first, the editor/owner or whatever she is, sent me an email asking me why an article was not done when it was due June 27th. We had a lengthy discussion about this article over a several day time span so she knew it was not done, and she even told me to hold off on it and focus on other stuff. So when I got an email asking me why it was not done, I lost my temper.
I sent a not so nice email explaining everything and told her that she may as well look for a new writer then if she is not going to work with me. I, again, told her that I could only do so many articles a week for her and she was going to have to accept that and I said a lot of other stuff.
In the end, she said to give her two weeks to find someone to pick up the slack but until then I still needed to do 6 articles a week. At least she was finally trying to work with me, but I knew this was unrealistic for me. At this point, I had been up for way over 24 hours working on an article and I was cranky and exhausted and I will admit she was becoming my target. I had to repeat myself a lot though, maybe three or four times because she just wasn’t getting it the first few time I said something which was pissing me off.
She told me that she treats her writers like family and hopes that I would change my mind before the two weeks was up.
She needed me to do another article, and I told her I needed to sleep. So when I woke up, I just didn’t have it in me anymore. I sent a resignation email, and well, I already said the rest.
As of right now, I am happy writing for BabyGaga. They even offered me an extra incentive if I could write an extra article or two a week, “you’ve been producing great work so far and consistently,” as quoted from my email. It made me feel good because I don’t always know my worth. As I have said before, a few times. I just hope that I can keep producing worthy articles for them.
Part of me is paranoid that now that I quit my ghostwriting job that now I have nothing to call back on, just in case. But another part of me is like, well at least now I have something with my name on it. It’s weird I guess. I don’t know if it is normal to feel like that. I never know if anything that I am feeling is considered normal.
What is normal anyway? There is no such thing as normal, I guess because everyone is unique in their own way and everyone has their own unique way of thinking. I need to stop asking myself, “Is this normal?” for that simple reason… everyone is unique. I don’t keep that in mind enough, even though I already know it.
Anyhow, I know I talk about my recovery a lot but that is because it is a big part of my life and I am truly sorry if I bore anyone but I need to talk about it again. I find myself wanting to drink a lot more these days, and I don’t know why. Maybe it has something to do wth summer being here. I really don’t know. I kind of regret building such a strong support system because now no will let me drink, but I know that in all actuality it is a good thing. But damn, I could go for a few drinks. Maybe a few bottles. It makes me want to get alcohol and hid it from people, but I would feel too guilty to do that. It has been ever since I hit my three-month mark that the urges to drink have really crept in and have been hitting hardcore.
I’ve been lucky to meet some really nice women in recovery recently over FB the last few days who have been nice enough to talk to me. Now it’s 2 am, and I have their numbers, but I am struggling to utilize them right now when I need too because it’s so late because I would love a drink right now… but it’s okay because I am broke lol.
I am struggling to not use that word again… normal.
On another note, I had been doing so well losing weight and then I went to the beach and &%@ed it all up. I cannot stress how much I am hating how much weight I have put on in such a short period of time. I even stopped getting on the scale now all together. I am so, beyond, disappointed in myself. I took months, and months of hard work and just through it out the window. I could try to blame it on new meds, I could try to blame it on trying to stay sober, but I am serious the only one to blame for this one.
I know I sound like a teenage girl, and I may as well be, but I really hate myself right now for this. I must have put on twenty pounds in a month. I would know for sure if I would get on the scale again, but I am straight scared too because it would probably just depress me no matter what the number is. I see in my stomach, my face, the way my close fit, the way my boyfriend looks at me.
Between the weight issues and not being able to drink, it kind of puts me in the mindset to want to resort back to self-harming again. I was just thinking about that earlier too. It was my boyfriends birthday today, so I tried to be on my best behavior and be as pleasant as I could possibly be.
I know it’s just my body dysmorphia. But damn, I really I need do something. Starting next week, I am going to start trying to lose the excess weight that I put on. I need some major encouragement.
All I guess some of this stuff is just triggering some depressive issues. Or maybe it’s the other way around? Maybe my bipolar depression is triggering some of these issues.
Speaking of bipolar disorder, we always have to add that into the mix, I get random bouts of mania lately triggered by who knows what that does not last very long, followed by a quick bout of depression, followed by some baseline stuff. I am definitely rapid cycling by the hours sometimes. I never used to think they were possible until I asked my doctor one day, and they are. I don’t know if they are rare or anything like that because I didn’t ask but they do happen. Usually, I cycle every few days, or weeks, and at the very maximum a month.
♥ Gotta Love Bipolar ♥