Quite Whimsical

I can’t sleep, again.

I take a warm bath, hoping it will relax my body enough to ease my mind.

I read, trying to outrun my insomnia with some good old fashioned escapism. It doesn’t work.

I lay in darkness. My partner next to me, snoring, while I fumble and toss around my blanket, a perfect representation of my restlessness.

I was furloughed from my job in late March. When it was time to go back in May, I discovered that I had been demoted. This was a job I had been at for (a little less than) a year, with chaotic training and constantly evolving procedures and policies. I was once told “the only consistent thing is inconsistency.” But I was excited to be there! I was part of the team and learning a new specialty! And wow, with an office growing I was bound to be helpful…

There are times in life when you just aren’t the right fit, and this was that time for me.

How do I know for sure? I was on a conference call with my team minutes after the email regarding said changes was sent, my voice betraying me by shaking as I asked clarifying questions. My manager says they will call me personally after our meeting to discuss. On that call, I apologize for being emotional and begin to ask why has this happened? I thought the implementation of ___ made things smoother? I thought …

I am interrupted and told:

“Talk to (partner), I’m just a paralegal.”

And at that moment, I knew I was all alone.

The person in charge of my team and my training had just dismissed me in a way I still barely grasp. I didn’t talk to the partner. I waited 36 hours to make sure I knew what I was doing, and I quit.

You don’t say that to someone you want to stick around.

Because of COVID-19, I had to quit via email- and because my cubicle was in a separate office from said partners, I had no chance to explain the things that should be said in person and not over a resignation email.

It triggered ALL of the things I am most insecure about. I wasn’t liked, I wasn’t trusted and I didn’t excel.

I have done affirmations and new moon rituals to Let It Go. Sometimes you aren’t the right fit, it isn’t the place where your talents are best utilized, and that’s it. There is no way around it. Now why can’t my brain accept this? Why must I re-live conversations and exchanged looks, things I heard said behind my back?

Why do we fixate on our failures instead of acknowledging our talents?

Shame, I need you to take it easy on me. I need to sleep.

http://quitewhimsical.com/2020/08/1119/

Going into 2020, I wanted to choose a word that built off of 2019’s– which was Trust. As an often anxious person, having Trust as my foundation allowed me to believe that things will work out as they should and that I can and do make good choices in life.

In the last few weeks, I have been thinking of goals I’d like for the new year. I want to read 24 books within the year (2 a month), continue learning and growing in my position at work, travel to Hawaii and, hopefully, Europe. Explore? Seek? Journey?…those didn’t quite work.

I want to learn, grow and travel, but it comes down to making the most of what I am fortunate enough to have. I trust the universe will take care of me, so now I want to THRIVE.

Have a beautiful Holiday Season and a 2020 that goes beyond your expectations!

I don’t believe anyone that has no regrets.
Are you lying to me, yourself,
or have you just not lived at all?

Dreams don’t change the past
and
they won’t predict the future.
They haunt us.
Images of who we truly want to be
Could be,
Should have been.

Regret is the aching, annoying reality
Of the choices made
That got us here.

http://quitewhimsical.com/2019/01/1088/

I can listen to the song we danced to again.
no more skipping the memory.
I don’t wonder if you miss me anymore.
I just try to believe it all wasn’t a lie.
finally present in this new life, it took time.
I’m sure you’re changed, too.
no more sad goodbyes.
oh what a chapter we shared
but I have a new story now,
a new heart,
that beats for me.

http://quitewhimsical.com/2018/10/1071/

Writing poetry is weird. Sharing it is strange. Yet, here we are.

For me, poetry is the way I process the hard stuff. When the emotions sit with me for hours, days, years not sure how to move forward until one day it spills out.

Poems are both intimate and vague, trying to emphasize the emotion rather than the event that created it. Often, I pull from memories that are long gone but still live with me. I find it interesting the projections people make on my words when they do read.

After I have written something, I usually like it. I re-read a few times, post it here, to twitter. Inevitably, I come back to it and feel exposed and embarrassed. I have debated many times deleting everything when I feel foolish and untalented. I rely too much on validation from others to build my self-esteem but I talk myself out of going dark because I believe the act of creating is worth something, even if it doesn’t feed my ego.

I look at pictures of people I used to know
and wonder how it must feel
To trust that your life is gonna turn out just as planned.
To not rip apart every interaction,
To find out what isn’t being said.
To feel at ease in the quiet.
I wish I still believed in forever
Now I just fear goodbye.

http://quitewhimsical.com/2018/06/972/