Less than one month later...I'm worried about posting this even though I know no one reads my blog anymore. No one read it in the first place. I really hate my job. Either in the morning before work or while I am in the bin of the plane stacking or unstacking luggage or on my way home I cry because I hate this job so much. I know my reaction is stronger than it should be (I am clinically depressed and unable to get help for it at the moment) but I can't seem to stop reacting in this manner.
The work portion isn't too hard but still sucks.
I feel like I am going to prison every day.
The job doesn't pay enough at all.
A job that I is scheduled 9 hours and pays for eight (one hour for lunch) keeps me locked up at the airport at least ten hours- no chance of reprieve for my lunch break as I am required to be around if a plane lands and I can't take the shuttle to my car and back in the time alotted let alone go anywhere once I get to it.
I am no longer eating on days that I work.
I feel cut off and isolated from everyone I like.
I am the only girl on the line except for one 19 year old who I can't really stand.
The men are uniformly vulgar and coarse and I have seen/heard some things I would term racist.
I feel suffocated and out of breatth whenever I even think about the job and am having panic attacks at the thought of going back.
At night when I get home I am so exahusted that I don't do anything but sleep until I have to be back at work again.
I hate that I have 32 bruises on my legs, one knot on my knee and one bump/scrape/bruise combo on my head. Thankfully the bruises on my arms have gone away
I haven't seen any friends except for Scott and Emily for over three weeks.
I am having anxiety attacks at the thought going to work but on the other hand the thought of having to start a new job is giving me anxiety attacks as well. Blood pressure that used to remain a constant 80-85 over 60 is now at least in the 110-120's.
The job is really dirty and going to the bathroom to wash my hands doesn't help because the bathroom is extremely unsanitary. I am pretty sure there is a playboy or penthouse on one of the shelves above the toilet along with the aviation mags.
My fingernails are broken past where they join to the skin and I can't seem to scrub all the dirt from beneath them.
I have an intense fear of men in positions of authority, especially when I am stressed and anxious, and my manager is no different. I find myself terrified and completely repulsed by him for some unsubstantiated reason. I cannot trust him.
I hate the uniform.
My face has been sunburnt through SPF50 sunscreen.
My allergies are so bad that my nose is constantly stuffed and my throat bleeds from all the Afrin and Claritin I take to open up the sinus passages.
I'm worried about my hearing even though we never go outside to the ramp without ear plugs- the frequency of the engines is so high that ear plugs can't stop all the damage. This also leaves me worried about having my ears plugged up for up to 6 hours a day with no oxygen circulating. I had a goal to find another job by today (my weekends are Thursday/Friday) but wasn't able to. Hopefully some of the aps I turned in today will bear fruit. Please, I need to be back with people like me, creative with forward momentum. I need to make enough money to get some sort of mental health help. Tomorrow looms like doomsday and there is no hero available. I have eight hours until I have to leave for work. I have eight hours until doom. I need to start eating again- my job is intensely physical and fuel is necessary. Every morning when I cry while getting ready I tell myself "Suck it up, bitch". It gets me out the door but doesn't stop the tears. I know a lot of this has to do with the chemical imbalance in my brain but even during the few moments of lucidity I hate the thought of going back. I refuse to leave until I have somewhere else to go because at 25 I shouldn't be asking my parents for help with rent. On the bright side My birthday was last saturday. No one remembered it but S, my family, and Emily was off by only one day. It's alright though- those that did remember really made it special. I got a voicemail from my Daddy singing Happy Birthday and got to speak with my Momba for a good long while and when I was home last month they replaced my broken, unable-to-hold-a-charge phone with a really nice Verizon Chocolate. My little sis sent me a card but unforch I didn't get it until today because it was wrapped up in junk mail- we have our issues to hash out still but I miss her so much and there is so much love there. My older sis sent her salutations via text 'cause she had a busy busy busy day at work and we talked a long time on the phone later, too. Family really is where it's at. S knew I was bummed at finding a great mattress set on huge sale but the job didn't pay enough for me to buy it so he gave it to me as a birthday present. My old one was barely holding me up and the foundation was all but broken in half. The new one is a size larger, the mattress is more than twice as thick and the foundation is solid- a name brand eurotop plush bed for 299. I was a little weirded out that S would spend that much on me at one time but then he took me out to a really nice dinner and then followed that up by taking me to a screening on the opening night of the Nashville Film Festival. It is slightly overwhelming and he really went overboard but everything he did had such attention to what I needed or would like the best that I am humbled and grateful to have such a boyfriend. I don't know what I did to deserve him. And non-birthday related happy news: after last night's dinner/film festival fun we went over to his parent's house to watch the new episodes of The Office and 30 Rock on DVR and discovered his sister home from college for an extended weekend! I absolutely adore K.- she reminds me of my little sister and is one rad chica. So. Much. Fun. We also got to spend some time with his mother who is also insanely awesome. The only family member I didn't get to see last night was his father- sad. Focus on the good HVert. Focus on the good. Seven hours until doomsday. | 
