Pity Parties

So I wrote this GREAT post yesterday evening that I was saving to post today because I knew I'd be too busy to write one.  I tried to post it this morning and poof!  It's gone.  The title is still there but all my witty repartee is gone.  Oh well - it's probably a blessing.  It probably means it didn't need to be out there in the universe anyway.

As it turns out, I do have a little time today so here I go with another post (I may start cutting and pasting these into emails that I send to myself just in case this happens again).

I have been waiting for what seems like forever for a particular job opportunity to come through.  (Okay - it's only been two weeks but it feels like forever.)  But today I heard about the potential for yet another role that, while not as highly compensated, would be so much more fun and a lot less stress. 

I know that potentially being blessed with an actual choice would be wonderful and I'm not discounting that.  It's just that I wish SOMETHING would happen already!  Okay - that's not exactly what I mean...what I exactly mean is that I wish just one of those opportunities would offer me a damn job!  I have been actively seeking a full-time, permanent role for almost two years.  I have filled out countless applications, sent a ginormous number of resumes, and traveled all over hell's half acre for interviews and meetings...only to be turned down time and time again.  (I am very grateful for the contracting role I have that is allowing me to support my family...just sayin.)

Being turned down, as my dear friend says, sucks ass.  It just does.  You feel like you're not good enough - which...well...you aren't.  But when you're an ACOA and you were NEVER good enough I think the sting is a little harder felt.  Or maybe its just me.

I have found the best way to cope however - which is something I've learned in recovery.  I go into my closet, sit on the floor and say all the things that are going through my head OUT LOUD.  The out loud part is the important thing because you have to either validate yourself for thinking it or hear how ridiculous it sounds so you can discount it.  Then I cry - loud, ugly, snotty cry.  I yell at God a lot and ask Him what the hell He's thinking and would He please clue me in.  (Being in the closet is great because the clothes and shoes muffle the sound so no one call the cops.) After a while - the length depends upon how much I wanted the job or how dejected I feel - I dry my eyes, blow my nose one more time and move on.

Prior to recovery I would escape in one form or another by ignoring my feelings until I could get home and drink, thereby eventually crossing over into the REAL pity party.  The one no one ever comes to and it never ends.  Then I would stuff it down and ignore it - only to have it come back and bite me in the ass when I was least expecting it (can you say mood swings?) and create that excuse to drink...and drink...and drink.  Um...not really a very good idea - not if you want to live anyway.

Now, while this new method is effective, it is not something I want to do on a regular basis.  So here's my prayer today -

Dear God,

Please make up your mind.  I want to do your will but you're going to have to work with me here.  I don't know what your will is and I'm having a helluva time figuring it out.

I am trying to be patient but would a little hint be so bad?  Just a little something so I know I'm on the right path.

Either that or send chocolate.

Amen

Accept fate, and move on. Don't yield to the seductive pull of self-pity. Acting like a victim threatens your future. ~Source Unknown