I have not written in a blog in quite some time. I am an OD refugee! When I went to update the other night, lo and behold, the site is no longer. A Facebook status later, here I am.
A lot has changed since my last update. I think the most important thing to update is the fact....I was abducted by aliens two months ago and have grown three extra toes.
Kidding....of course.
Wow. I don't even know where to start.
I suppose, I should mention, I finally left my old job. When I last updated on OD, I was literally losing my mind with stress. Around October of 2012, I went back on a much needed anxiety medication due to the stress from the situation. When I thought it couldn't get any worse, it did. I contemplated, around April 2013, resigning. I even sent my then boss an email in response to one of the situations, declaring that if I was made do what someone was asking me to do, that I would be resigning effective immediately. No two weeks notice. None of that. EFFECTIVE immediately.
He replied only to tell me that he would talk to the "higher-uppers" and sort it out that I wouldn't need to resign, and he too, felt the request was unreasonable. (No kidding.) Jesus. It would take me 900 years to explain the events of last year.
Instead of resigning (I stuck it out....medicated of course....and with lots of tissues), I relinquished my contract effective May 2013. I didn't have any other job at that point, but like I told my former boss, I would rather just draw unemployment and continue looking. He literally tried, multiple times, to get me to sign another year on the contract, but I said no. The problems still continued. Even until the LAST day I went into the building on my exit interview. Like, for real, LEAVE ME ALONE. I AM LEAVING. Is it really necessary to continue with the attacks?
I spent the summer in complete stress. Mentally I had become entirely unstable from the year. By May, I wasn't eating AT ALL. I had lost about 40 lbs in a month. I couldn't sleep. I was having panic attacks constantly.
I finally found refuge in the oddest of places. I started playing (almost to an addictive level) a game online called Secondlife. I had been on it before for work purposes, but never played it leisurely. For some reason, it was the only thing that helped me forget about everything, I played almost constantly for the entire duration of May-August when I started my new job. I still play it now, but not nearly as insane as I did before. I left my older name I used (as it brought memories of times I'd rather forget), and I have started playing under a new account. If you play, let's be friends.
My new job is EXACTLY what I needed. It has its ups and downs no doubt, but the things I was desperately craving at my old job....I found here within the first day. My co-workers are beyond amazing., genuine, helpful, cooperative, and all the other nifty adjectives you can think of! I am happy. I stopped the anxiety medication also, and I've been fine ever since. It's almost as if the old place was like a black hole for my spirit. I miss a couple of my old co-workers, but I keep in touch with them still, especially Joe and his family and of course, Mary. I don't know where I would have ended up last year without those two.
...I suppose I should also address the fact that many of you saw my ex-husband hopping on and off my Facebook friend list. Due to temporary old job craziness, I reconnected with him. (Don't panic and start writing novelesque notes.) We are no longer talking. We did attempt to rekindle the old flame and attempt a pseudoromance via long distance, but that tanked and bombed. That was shortly followed by incessant fighting via text for a few months, followed by a dose of weird, awkward we-were-once-married-but-then-hated-each-other kind of friendship. About three months ago, I finally had enough of the odd friendship, and I told him I wasn't interested in being friends or anything else. I blocked his number. Deleted him permanently off my list. I have not talked to him since. I don't even feel the least bit sad about it. I think this weird rekindling/pseudofriendship is what I needed for closure. I think it's kind of self-revealing that he always seems to burrow back into my life whenever I don't have control over myself or my emotions. Who needs Dr. Phil, eh?
I could go on and on with two years worth of content, but I shall spare those of you who might read this. I will have plenty of more time to update in the future. I hope Prosebox serves me well.
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