July 3, 2010 at 10:11 am (unfinished thoughts)

The end of June has passed, right about… now. After I was laid off in the middle of May, I promised myself May and June to take off of work, to get some perspective, take a rest, and to try to get a job doing something I actually like. Over that period of time, I applied for roughly forty jobs (certainly not a record), interviewed twice, and came up fantastically empty.

Interestingly enough, as infirm, wavering, and humbled as I may seem in this blog, I would say that I seriously believed that I would get the jobs I applied for, up to eighty percent of them, even. A few days ago I sent in to do some preliminary web work for someone in my neighborhood, and I was literally planning out how I would get back to the city from my hometown in time to start, as opposed to worrying over whether I would even be contacted or not. It’s interesting, how even when we have no self-esteem, we still have this odd element of pride, even if it’s this twisted pride of being bad at things.

In the past I had a friend who would consistently have to have a life that is worse than everyone else’s. We’re still friends, but firstly, we are not close friends, and secondly, she has made leaps and bounds in this area. For at least part of the time period in which we were very close friends, I was dealing with a particularly deep relapse in my depression. I hesitate to write that out. Someday I will address this further, but I am perpetually hesitant to disclose this particular fact about myself, even as an anonymous writer on the Interwebs. Most of my closest friends (in the past and today) do not know that I suffered (I also hesitate to say that I am, or ever will be, cured!) from depression for a rather significant portion of my life. Anyway.

It was, essentially, intolerable for me. She would complain constantly about her supposed friendlessness, her bodily ailments, her family, her job, her life. Again, I hesitate to give away more details for fear that she will someday stumble upon this and recognize herself. Suffice it to say, she strongly believed that she had just about every ailment for which there was an advertised pill (except, thank goodness, ED, considering the fact that she is, indeed, a female). She believed that she worked harder than any of us, academically, and so on and so forth. There were so many times in which I would be ranting about her online to friends (friends who did not know her in person), full of spite and resentment and frustration.

It of course became a huge strain in our relationship. And eventually I realized that the fault lied with both of us: We were both too prideful, but we showed and viewed our pride in such diametrically opposed ways. Either way, we both found ourselves to be quite important, as I suspect nearly everyone does. We both wanted to be “the most fill-in-the-blank.” She would complain about her legs hurting, and I would think that she couldn’t understand leg pain until she had been up crying half the night with pain (I’m an only child who evidently is quite accustomed to doting. I simply had growing pains in my legs as a child. I should re-title this blog “Wendy the Whiner.” Though if you’ve had those sorts of aches, you know they’re rather painful, really.). I thought if she REALLY had issues, she would hide them away, like I did, because That’s What People With Real Problems Do.

Everyone has this—well, maybe not THIS specifically, but “a”—sense of pride that we can’t shake, nor do I necessarily believe that we should shake it. There has to be a reason why humans have confidence and pride, if only so that they don’t throw themselves off of bridges. I just find it so incredibly interesting to note how it shows up, and how differently, as well.

I’m stopping this thought unfinished, partially because I want to post something before the evening is through, and partially because I don’t know what else there is to say. This is a post that I will probably look back on and think, “Why the hell did I publish that?” I want to finish it; I want to think about it more… But for right now, I want to finish this entry and attempt not to a) break any more plates b) step on any more sunglasses c) break any more rings d) burn any more tomato sauces or e) destroy any more frozen treats for the rest of the evening, at least.


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