When I was single, I had all sorts of art-related activities to keep my mind busy; distracted. Although, even then, I didn't constantly write poetry or draw, and I had little drive to take those talents seriously, I was always occupied (or preoccupied). Now that I am getting in touch with my old self, I remember how it felt like, about five or six years back. I always had a melancholic air about me... which disappear every time I was having fun with good friends or my close cousins and relatives. It was a lot easier to understand who I was, what type of person I was, back then, I think. Although I wasn't as open as I am now, I didn't confuse people so much before.
I still give people wrong impressions now. Just different ones. Much better ones, I guess? I don't really know. But I was attuned to myself a long time ago. After dating Miles* for a while, I forgot to look into myself; to converse with myself. I used to literally, silently speak with myself.
"What the hell, Lilith? Did you really just say that? Ugh, yeah, I know, what was embarrassing, can we just forget about it? Listen to some music, that should help you forget! Right, I'll do that."
My older blogs even had comical portions that featured the three parts of my consciousness arguing/conversing. It's funny, and I could write endlessly, and with my eyes closed; I think, because I was so aware of my thoughts and feelings. I realize how raw my blogs could have been years ago when I religiously maintained them.
I've always been lonely, and I think this is the very first time I'll admit that. On here, an anonymous blog, too! I wonder why it's so hard to preserve friendships. It may be because it's hard to find friends that I actually like. There's always something that puts me off. I have friends that are so like me, yet their vast knowledge or their busy schedules or their fast-paced lifestyle kind of makes me want to take a step back. Sometimes, they really do matter to me, but I am just another random face to them. I've also been used by "friends" numerous times. These aren't even "friends". Jesus, I'm this old, and I still have trouble keeping company. What the fuck.
I have friends that are true soulmates, but distance and priorities keep me apart from them. I'm still happy we try to get in touch and we miss each other. I'm not sure how to take the changes in our lives, though. However, the fact that we remain friends despite the separation makes me feel warm inside.
I know I can't depend on them, though; and they probably think the same about me. I'm not sure. The thing is, though, they're doing better than I am, and they're fine. I'm not, and that doesn't make me feel like a worthy friend. I feel like I got stuck (pushed back, rather?) in the past after the "big incident" with Miles.
Blogging, writing, listening to music, watching films and series, reading, drawing, et cetera: these always kept me busy back then. I sometimes felt like I was forcing myself to do these things, and honestly, I don't go out enough. I think we've established that the reason for this is because all my real friends have moved on and it's difficult to find new quality friends (also: especially because I have left two jobs and didn't get to connect properly) nowadays.
Despite having an active mind, I was constantly drawn to sad and gloomy emotions, situations, people, things... I think this really is where art comes in. I was so pensive. I wrote beautifully about the most insignificant things. I paid attention to very significant life issues and write extensively, intelligently about them. I was so gloomy, yet I was ten times funnier. How was that possible? How am I so boring now that I am more open, more vocal, less shy, more assertive and confident? How strange is that?
Ah. Of course. I gave all of this up for one person: Miles.
I used to hang out with my close college friends after school. But you know what they say: love is a drug. I got addicted to it. First, it was JC*--and a number of guys I was talking with, too, at the time. I was so into the fact that they might be into me; I guess it was because I needed a simulation of a relationship or dating (in order to write about it?). I wasn't ready to date anyone, mainly because I haven't found anyone who was that worth it, but I wanted to write about love and pain, and the beauty of sadness/loneliness that comes with it. I was so into art, so into love, I was basically in love with everything around me. Everything meant something, and I would write about it. Every small incident was a story. Everything inspired me. I was constantly daydreaming.
When Miles and I started getting more steady, I would hurry home, or wake up hours before I really should. I'd match my sleeping schedule with his so I could spend more time with him. I spent too much time with him and put him above everything. I'd rather stay home and speak with him that go out with friends or family. It was all about him. And somehow, I believed he put a lot of effort in making it about me, too.
But now that I look at everything--at us--from the very beginning to now--all those years--I realize that he only really had time for me because his schedule permitted it. If he had the option to speak with me while he was out doing something, he'd do it. But I really am... just an inconsistent part of his schedule. Everything--work, his health, his friends and family--else in his life goes first. I am just... something he squeezes into his sched.
Meanwhile, I--
Picture this. I am working on seven projects on a big table: it looks organized, busy. Miles walks over-- "Hi, Lilith. Ugh, I'm so hungry."
In a matter of two seconds, I've swept all my papers from the table with my right arm, and grabbed prepared meals from under the now clean table, so we could eat together.
Yeah, that's how I treat him. I'm never prepared for anything else in my life but him.
I wonder why it hurts me that our goals are changing for the worse (for our relationship). You'd think by now that our plans are now more in sync, because we're getting older and more and more eligible for settling down. When he was red, I was blue. So I worked hard in considering being red. Now that I'm closer to being red, he decides he's going to be blue. Yes, I know people change, but why are things turning out this way? If I knew this was going to happen, that he was going to consider a future for himself without me, I would've just ignored him five years ago. I would have never let this relationship happen.
The reason why I stopped going out, socializing, taking care of myself, doing art, BLOGGING, is because everything had become him. He had become everyone, and everything to me. My diary, too. Now that he's not around, I feel so uneasy... naked, even. Because I have nothing, no one. Before I realized it, he had become my world. I used to promise myself never to let that happen... with anyone. It isn't worth it. Well, I guess I taught myself a lesson well. I just learned it the hard way. This is something I will someday teach my daughter... at least there's that. Someone will benefit from this pain someday. It's okay.
My blog used to be.... mostly my everything. I wrote about my feelings, every single insignificant occurrence in my life. I stopped because I had him. I told him everything. He knew everything. And what do you know, he doesn't really tell me everything. What's the point?
Blogging feels alien to me when I first start writing after stopping for a long time. I think I should warm up to it again, because it helps... somehow. Crying and drinking and watching shallow movies have started to lose their effect on me. They just wear me out and make me uglier.
I wish I would never stop blogging. I don't think I have to commit to this a hundred percent, like I used to, with my past journals... but I hope I keep this one alive. I know it will keep me sane.
Lilith
--
*Code name/s
Showing posts with label growth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label growth. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
Friday, February 28, 2014
ATYT: On being a working loser
Since I left my job, I've gone back to a routine that's all too familiar and rather unwelcome: staying up late, waking up before noon (I've actually become better with my sleeping habits compared to when I was... much younger), not taking breakfast seriously/taking "Rockstar Breakfasts"** and of course, struggling with the jobhunt. True, the recent, almost month-long illness I recently dealt with ruined my momentum, but I can't help but be frustrated at the demons and angels constantly debating in my head--do I regret leaving my first job? Yes. No. Why do I? Why don't I? It was for the best. No, it wasn't. Do I regret leaving my second job without a replacement job after I seriously learned my lesson the first time? No. In fact, I had everybody's blessings! Including the goddamn company itself, no matter how much I wish I didn't (yet)! Wait, maybe I do? Maybe I should have just allowed assholes to humiliate me everyd--wait, no. I can't. Where did I go wrong? Did I even make a mistake?
And then, I look back, and realize I did nothing wrong. I couldn't stay. But something went wrong somewhere. However, I can't turn back time. I made decisions I regretted, but when I try to imagine taking the other available options for those situations, I can't help but accept that I picked the better choice.
The things I should've done, that could've made my resume look better, were so far back in the past; there's no helping it. I'm finding it strange that I am pissed at myself for things I have no control over. I've actually been making good career decisions since I started my second job... I am just angry that the circumstances made everything wrong even when they weren't supposed to be.
Look at me now. I sometimes have chips or candy for breakfast, then fall back asleep. I have lunch at 3 p.m., 4, even. I feel proud of myself when I have lunch at 2 or 1, and want to throw a party if I have it at noon. I feel accomplished when I eat a proper breakfast. I feel hopeful when I go to an interview and ace the easiest interview to ace--the first one, or any with an HR person. I feel depressed and make up excuses to treat myself to an expensive beverage, meal, or something nice by convincing myself that I deserve or need it. I play with the dogs every ow and then, they are a source of entertainment. I fight with Miles* often, making me question not the relationship, but the mental state of the people in it--are we okay? Is he, am I right in the head? Are we bipolar? Do we have anger issues? Are we short and hot because we are part of the highly pressured generation?
Just a few hours ago, my parents were giving me a glimpse of how things were in the past--people who married at 20 at a certain time were young. But, the generation before that married at 18, and that was okay. BUT! A generation before that married at 16 and that was the norm! Not too long ago, getting married in your mid-20's was pretty ideal. But a few years ago, when one of my cousins married at 27 or 28, my mom said they were too young. What the actual fuck?
Please excuse me while I silently consider my goal to marry at 24 and have a child a little after that.
Well, decisions change, and now that I'm close to my once marrying age goal, I don't think I'm up for it yet 'til I'm sure everything's set. But now most people are considering marrying in their 30's. I wonder if, 25 years from now, people will start considering marrying at an even later age. Is that how things work? Can we remember that our bodies deteriorate in time and stop letting money and success take over our lives and happiness?
Look at me now: I'm best friends with my laptop, smartphone and the internet. I'm constantly on social media websites and dreaming online. Reading manga, discovering music, watching series, catching up on movies and books and rest. I barely move. I'm too skinny yet I don't eat well and somehow, I'm starting to get some fat in some areas (?!).
To be honest, I think I kinda suck. Almost a year after grad (it was my fault, I was too lax) before I got my first job. Left, took another 7 months before I landed myself a new one. Left immediately and God please help me get a good, new one ASAP because...
Why? Think about it. Why do you want to work? Do you even want to? I questioned myself and even when the inquiry came from me, I was afraid to answer, silently. I had to do it step by step:
Do you want to work, Lilith?
Yes.
Why?
Um... because (another answer keeps fighting its way into my head, but I kept pushing the thought away) I want to buy things, pay for stuff and have a career.
But if you had an unlimited source of income, would you still consider getting yourself a job; employed, like you want to be?
No.
Why?
Because the truth is, some people really don't want to work. Maybe it's because most people do things they don't exactly love. People want to play, even when they're at work. That's why it's important to love what you do. They say if you do, you wouldn't consider it 'work'.
So then why do you say you 'want to work'?
I think it's because of societal pressure. It's the kind of pressure people around my age from this generation get. We're expected to graduate from college, take a master's degree, work at this age, be able to accomplish this much at this age, be able to do this at this age... or if we can't afford college then we have to find success in other ways like a business, or something similar. Expectations. They fucking suck.
Truth be told? Even if we lived on a little money, as long as we're not hungry, have shelter and all the basic needs, we'll be fine. Truth be told, most things around us that we consider important are just luxuries we don't need. Societal pressure. We're obsessed with success in different forms, whether real or made up, tangible or intangible.
Look at me. I am lonely. I am detached from things considered at important in life at this time: I don't have ANY real friends at the moment, I barely go out, I haven't traveled and done anything fun for the longest time, I am in a LDR, I talk to my dogs. Same sitch whether or not I am employed. It sucks, and I am sometimes frustrated with this kind of life. But deep inside, despite the yearnings, I'm still kind of happy! Holy shit. I have time. I know I can make up for this shit some time.
I was almost more sad than pissed when one asshole told me to "get a life, you need to go out more" when I was happy about something work-related that turned out good. I knew the fucker had a point and I did need to do many things more, but I had a life. Whatever I have right now is one. It's my life. Fuck off.
Maybe for the first two decades of my life I am meant to be a hermit. Maybe the next two or three I'll be a fucking world crawler. And more exposed to basically every type of person, place, event, activity and natural or synthetic creation than you'll ever be.
Ladies and gentlemen, I hope my angels and demons entertained you tonight.
Lilith
--
*Code name/s
**having the worst food options for breakfast; i.e. candy, soda, chips, chocolate, cake
And then, I look back, and realize I did nothing wrong. I couldn't stay. But something went wrong somewhere. However, I can't turn back time. I made decisions I regretted, but when I try to imagine taking the other available options for those situations, I can't help but accept that I picked the better choice.
The things I should've done, that could've made my resume look better, were so far back in the past; there's no helping it. I'm finding it strange that I am pissed at myself for things I have no control over. I've actually been making good career decisions since I started my second job... I am just angry that the circumstances made everything wrong even when they weren't supposed to be.
Look at me now. I sometimes have chips or candy for breakfast, then fall back asleep. I have lunch at 3 p.m., 4, even. I feel proud of myself when I have lunch at 2 or 1, and want to throw a party if I have it at noon. I feel accomplished when I eat a proper breakfast. I feel hopeful when I go to an interview and ace the easiest interview to ace--the first one, or any with an HR person. I feel depressed and make up excuses to treat myself to an expensive beverage, meal, or something nice by convincing myself that I deserve or need it. I play with the dogs every ow and then, they are a source of entertainment. I fight with Miles* often, making me question not the relationship, but the mental state of the people in it--are we okay? Is he, am I right in the head? Are we bipolar? Do we have anger issues? Are we short and hot because we are part of the highly pressured generation?
Just a few hours ago, my parents were giving me a glimpse of how things were in the past--people who married at 20 at a certain time were young. But, the generation before that married at 18, and that was okay. BUT! A generation before that married at 16 and that was the norm! Not too long ago, getting married in your mid-20's was pretty ideal. But a few years ago, when one of my cousins married at 27 or 28, my mom said they were too young. What the actual fuck?
Please excuse me while I silently consider my goal to marry at 24 and have a child a little after that.
Well, decisions change, and now that I'm close to my once marrying age goal, I don't think I'm up for it yet 'til I'm sure everything's set. But now most people are considering marrying in their 30's. I wonder if, 25 years from now, people will start considering marrying at an even later age. Is that how things work? Can we remember that our bodies deteriorate in time and stop letting money and success take over our lives and happiness?
Look at me now: I'm best friends with my laptop, smartphone and the internet. I'm constantly on social media websites and dreaming online. Reading manga, discovering music, watching series, catching up on movies and books and rest. I barely move. I'm too skinny yet I don't eat well and somehow, I'm starting to get some fat in some areas (?!).
To be honest, I think I kinda suck. Almost a year after grad (it was my fault, I was too lax) before I got my first job. Left, took another 7 months before I landed myself a new one. Left immediately and God please help me get a good, new one ASAP because...
Why? Think about it. Why do you want to work? Do you even want to? I questioned myself and even when the inquiry came from me, I was afraid to answer, silently. I had to do it step by step:
Do you want to work, Lilith?
Yes.
Why?
Um... because (another answer keeps fighting its way into my head, but I kept pushing the thought away) I want to buy things, pay for stuff and have a career.
But if you had an unlimited source of income, would you still consider getting yourself a job; employed, like you want to be?
No.
Why?
Because the truth is, some people really don't want to work. Maybe it's because most people do things they don't exactly love. People want to play, even when they're at work. That's why it's important to love what you do. They say if you do, you wouldn't consider it 'work'.
So then why do you say you 'want to work'?
I think it's because of societal pressure. It's the kind of pressure people around my age from this generation get. We're expected to graduate from college, take a master's degree, work at this age, be able to accomplish this much at this age, be able to do this at this age... or if we can't afford college then we have to find success in other ways like a business, or something similar. Expectations. They fucking suck.
Truth be told? Even if we lived on a little money, as long as we're not hungry, have shelter and all the basic needs, we'll be fine. Truth be told, most things around us that we consider important are just luxuries we don't need. Societal pressure. We're obsessed with success in different forms, whether real or made up, tangible or intangible.
Look at me. I am lonely. I am detached from things considered at important in life at this time: I don't have ANY real friends at the moment, I barely go out, I haven't traveled and done anything fun for the longest time, I am in a LDR, I talk to my dogs. Same sitch whether or not I am employed. It sucks, and I am sometimes frustrated with this kind of life. But deep inside, despite the yearnings, I'm still kind of happy! Holy shit. I have time. I know I can make up for this shit some time.
I was almost more sad than pissed when one asshole told me to "get a life, you need to go out more" when I was happy about something work-related that turned out good. I knew the fucker had a point and I did need to do many things more, but I had a life. Whatever I have right now is one. It's my life. Fuck off.
Maybe for the first two decades of my life I am meant to be a hermit. Maybe the next two or three I'll be a fucking world crawler. And more exposed to basically every type of person, place, event, activity and natural or synthetic creation than you'll ever be.
Ladies and gentlemen, I hope my angels and demons entertained you tonight.
Lilith
--
*Code name/s
**having the worst food options for breakfast; i.e. candy, soda, chips, chocolate, cake
Monday, September 9, 2013
Lilith: The coin is suspended in the air
Ah, finally. After weeks, I have an update on my gloomy life! Where do I start?
After around a hundred applications and less than 30 interviews, Lady Luck decided to be my gal one fateful Friday. I don't care whether she's drunk or high, everything worked in my favor. I was right to keep believing in the power of energies--you can't really have bad energy around you all the time. Things have to change some time.
I've been having such bad luck lately that I'm sure it's about to get balanced out soon. However, I wasn't expecting extremely good luck--so when I had it, man was I psyched.
About two weeks ago, I went to an interview not really expecting anything, but doing my best, anyway. Company A's hiring process is pretty quick, I finished all interviews in one day and before lunch time, too (well... half past noon). I guess I've gotten so used to interviews and I've gone over my failed ones mentally too much that I just couldn't say anything wrong anymore. The only things that would stand in my way are: the interviewer's impression of me (which, if they are judgmental like some of the assholes I've met who just didn't like me for no particular reason would keep me from getting the job) and my ability to explain that my experience, skills and abilities are good enough for the job and the company.
Alas, I didn't have any problem with those, and surprisingly, I was able to impress Company A's big boss. I think the Boss A was pretty cool, too, although I would assume we're a little too alike, which can be a problem for me. Before the interview ended, he said, "I really want you on my shortlist." and that if they contact me again, it will be because they will make an offer. I had another interview that day, with Company B, which, I'm pleased to know, liked me as well.
I had about ten minutes to finish my crappy burger (late lunch) before my interview with them. I had a good feeling about Company A and the fact that Boss A liked my attitude gave me confidence that I can easily top anyone else who has more or less the same work experience as I do. I think that a great attitude can take you places (well... now I believe it can. Haha). So, I thought, if Company B doesn't like me, or thinks my work experience isn't relevant, I'll be okay.
Well, surprise. I did well with the initial interview (I got compliments!) and I was asked to go meet the would-be supervisor, but I have to rush to another district. (I'm so glad my dad was there to drive me to where I had to go, whew.) It was getting late, but I wanted to show dedication, so I said yes and made my way there. Someone told me that Boss B/the supervisor was really nice and that I would probably do well in my interview with her. I couldn't believe my luck--I was doing great in my interviews, and all I did was be myself and express how I felt about the job. Nobody tested me, nobody tried to look for dirt on me. It was so incredible that I can't believe it was all me (come on, considering I had bad luck 9 out of 10 times when it came my applications)-- I wanted to blame my fortune. I really don't want to sound crazy, but I think the goddess of luck took a liking to me.
I'm seriously not complaining, I'm humbled by all this!
I went to the interview with Boss B, and did well--she said, "I'm very interested," and told me I'll be hearing from them the following week. I was excited, knowing she would be a great boss because she's brilliant. She knows her craft, and if I worked under her, I know I would end up being a gem of some sort. I'm not expecting to become a goddamn diamond (although I want to be one), but I'll be a pretty fucking precious gem under her mentorship/leadership. I just hoped that the following interviews with Company B would turn out good.
The following week, I got a call from Company A asking me to come over. I didn't know what it was about, because I remember BA (Boss A) saying I will hear from HIM if it's a job offer. I assumed that a supervisor will be interviewing me or they wanted to see me again because they can't choose between two candidates. I almost died when he said he was offering me the job. My final interviews with Company B will not be until the end of the week, and I didn't want to tell them I wanted to see what the other company wanted to offer me as well, so I can make a decision.
BA said he didn't want to put me on the spot, but he wanted an answer right away. As in, right there and then. The statement was contradicting itself, I thought, but I understood his point. I never got the impression that filling the position was urgent, though. I was never told that. I was sure he wanted to hire me right away to get things over with, but he didn't give me much of a choice and wanted me to cancel my other applications. Also, I was told that if I accepted the offer, I will be attending a meeting that afternoon with the board. I was shocked because I did not know what to expect, and I wish I had been told that.
He gave me 20 minutes to think it over while he talked to another applicant he was offering another position to. I got in touch with my friends and family to help me make a decision because I was so confused. I wished people here were more professional and didn't get pissed at you for considering other offers or applications. People are easily offended over here, and so it wouldn't be so wise to tell them that you are considering other companies.
I had to make a decision, and I had to make it fast. I took a gamble and said, "if they don't accept me after telling them this, then it just wasn't meant to be". I was surprised when I informed BA that I can't accept the offer right now because I really wanted to think it over. He knew what that meant and I was surprised he gave me a few days. I promised to call at as soon as possible once I've made a decision. I thought they were going to drop me (he implied a few times that if I'm on board, I'm on board; or else, they'll continue looking for other candidates) but he saw my decisiveness and how professional I was about it (probably saw himself in me), and couldn't just say 'fuck it'.
I was glad about that, because if my application with Company B didn't work out, I'm assured of a job with Company A. I think it's pretty obvious now that I'm more inclined towards Company B--I'll explain in a bit.
Anyway, I was told that Big Bosses from Company B will be conducting the final interviews. I was expecting to have it with just one of them, but it turns out we all have to meet Big Boss A before the last interview with Big Boss B.
I had a tip about BBA (Big Boss A): that he can be intimidating and I have to do my best to impress him. I was very nervous because even when I smiled and had a pleasant energy about me, I felt it was ignored.
I was starting to see a pattern with how they do interviews with Company B--you have to try to put a poker face on and minimalize any form of expression or emotion. I noticed, however, that after the interviews, the interviewers appear to be much more pleasant; nice, even.
Going back to the interview with BBA--he asked me a few questions, some of which took me by surprise. One, in particular, scared me so much it gave me long pauses in between words. My mind felt like it was all over the place, so my initial answer was wrong, but he explained to me that that was not the answer he was looking for, so I re-answered it. Apparently, the question is kind of like a staple during job interviews: what is the job description for the position you're applying for?
I remembered all the job descriptions I read online whenever I sent out applications to employers and patterned my answered after those. Fortunately, I got it right, and he seemed to be relieved I got the answer, as well. He warned me that the culture, and job will be challenging and competitive, and told me I should be ready for that. Earlier during the interview, I mentioned that public speaking was one of my skills, and he said that even when I mentioned I had that skill, I seemed to be very uncomfortable. Again, honesty and sincerity saved me--I calmly told him that I don't have a problem interacting with a variety of people, however, I was a little nervous because I wanted to do well in the interview because I wanted to work for the company. I was glad when he said that that was okay. When I left, I thought I blew it.
I was asked to come back after lunch. I met this guy who was applying for the same position as I did, and asked him about his own application. I would most likely be seeing him around if we both got in so I tried being friendly with him. We talked after lunch and shared our experiences with the interview we just had--apparently his didn't go too well. Nonetheless, the fact that we were asked to return for the SUPER FINAL interview meant that we passed, which was a huge relief. Neither of us believed we did good with BBA, but now that we only had one more thing keeping us from getting a job offer, we wished each other luck and hoped for the best.
We waited for around an hour and talked about our previous jobs, where we lived and our work experiences. I found out later that we graduated from the same university (we were both excited about this) and we know at least one common person. He was actually just a year my senior, and because we went to the same building in college, we might have crossed paths but never really knew. We thought it was cool.
We got more and more nervous as time passed by, but we were also excited and started to talk about what it would be like working there. We laughed about how we were getting ahead of ourselves and forced ourselves to worry about the present first.
My interview with BBB (Big Boss B) was okay. I was unsure if she liked me, or if I was convincing; again, they tried to maintain a neutral expression, so I didn't know if I was saying something good or not. I used the Honest and Sincere cards again, and although I stuttered a couple of times and wished I had said some things better, I just told myself I did my best, and if I didn't make it, I had another offer anyway.
Later that night, I got a message from Company B saying I passed, and I will be getting a job offer the following week.
I was in a state of confusion after I finished my application with Company B. I started going over the pros and cons of each organization, and realized there were more pros with Company A than B. The only thing that drew me towards B was the prestige I will get from my work experience there. However, I'll have to make a shitton of sacrifices--move out, meaning spend a lot on rent/water/electricity and food, risk not having a strong internet connection at the boarding house and share a room with other people (no privacy). Plus, I'm assuming the job will be as stressful as my previous one; and that was one of the reasons I left that one in the first place.
It appears I would have more freedom with A, and I'm sure people won't be hard to deal with. I don't have to move out and I can sleep later and go home later with no problem. I can basically go to work and come home with my eyes closed. I don't have to give everything up, so I will have more savings; meaning, I can get myself a camera and/or my own laptop and go to a photography class.
Even later that day, though, I realized that making sacrifices, learning from the right people, and working for a well-known, big organization will benefit me in the long run, compared to... well... not giving up anything, hoarding short-term benefits and working for an organization even smaller than my previous one. I've talked to my loved ones and friends about this, and at times they would ask me to make a decision because I have to pick whatever works for me; but not once did they show any indication that they favored A (despite all the added benefits on top of having a job). They all agreed that despite the BIG BAD cons parading behind company B's job offer (which I have yet to see, by the way), it was still more beneficial for me.
I ended up asking Miles* what he thought, and as much as he wanted me to be more healthy, have more time to relax and not have to give up so many things (the list is too long, I can even squeeze it in here) just to be able to work, if it'll help me in the long run, then I should go for it. He said that it doesn't matter that I put up with the stress for another two years, because I'll be with him by then. Sounded good to me.
I have high hopes about this new job. It's a blessing and I worked hard to get it, so I'll will myself to maintain positive feelings for it. I hope that everything goes well and I can stay for more than just one year here, and that I'll love the people I'll be working with. I hope that I get to feel the pros more than the cons the longer I stay. I hope this helps me more than hurts me, and best of all, I hope this freaking improves my health somehow!
I hope my decisions don't fail me.
Wish me luck.
Lilith
--
*Code name/s
After around a hundred applications and less than 30 interviews, Lady Luck decided to be my gal one fateful Friday. I don't care whether she's drunk or high, everything worked in my favor. I was right to keep believing in the power of energies--you can't really have bad energy around you all the time. Things have to change some time.
I've been having such bad luck lately that I'm sure it's about to get balanced out soon. However, I wasn't expecting extremely good luck--so when I had it, man was I psyched.
About two weeks ago, I went to an interview not really expecting anything, but doing my best, anyway. Company A's hiring process is pretty quick, I finished all interviews in one day and before lunch time, too (well... half past noon). I guess I've gotten so used to interviews and I've gone over my failed ones mentally too much that I just couldn't say anything wrong anymore. The only things that would stand in my way are: the interviewer's impression of me (which, if they are judgmental like some of the assholes I've met who just didn't like me for no particular reason would keep me from getting the job) and my ability to explain that my experience, skills and abilities are good enough for the job and the company.
Alas, I didn't have any problem with those, and surprisingly, I was able to impress Company A's big boss. I think the Boss A was pretty cool, too, although I would assume we're a little too alike, which can be a problem for me. Before the interview ended, he said, "I really want you on my shortlist." and that if they contact me again, it will be because they will make an offer. I had another interview that day, with Company B, which, I'm pleased to know, liked me as well.
I had about ten minutes to finish my crappy burger (late lunch) before my interview with them. I had a good feeling about Company A and the fact that Boss A liked my attitude gave me confidence that I can easily top anyone else who has more or less the same work experience as I do. I think that a great attitude can take you places (well... now I believe it can. Haha). So, I thought, if Company B doesn't like me, or thinks my work experience isn't relevant, I'll be okay.
Well, surprise. I did well with the initial interview (I got compliments!) and I was asked to go meet the would-be supervisor, but I have to rush to another district. (I'm so glad my dad was there to drive me to where I had to go, whew.) It was getting late, but I wanted to show dedication, so I said yes and made my way there. Someone told me that Boss B/the supervisor was really nice and that I would probably do well in my interview with her. I couldn't believe my luck--I was doing great in my interviews, and all I did was be myself and express how I felt about the job. Nobody tested me, nobody tried to look for dirt on me. It was so incredible that I can't believe it was all me (come on, considering I had bad luck 9 out of 10 times when it came my applications)-- I wanted to blame my fortune. I really don't want to sound crazy, but I think the goddess of luck took a liking to me.
I'm seriously not complaining, I'm humbled by all this!
I went to the interview with Boss B, and did well--she said, "I'm very interested," and told me I'll be hearing from them the following week. I was excited, knowing she would be a great boss because she's brilliant. She knows her craft, and if I worked under her, I know I would end up being a gem of some sort. I'm not expecting to become a goddamn diamond (although I want to be one), but I'll be a pretty fucking precious gem under her mentorship/leadership. I just hoped that the following interviews with Company B would turn out good.
The following week, I got a call from Company A asking me to come over. I didn't know what it was about, because I remember BA (Boss A) saying I will hear from HIM if it's a job offer. I assumed that a supervisor will be interviewing me or they wanted to see me again because they can't choose between two candidates. I almost died when he said he was offering me the job. My final interviews with Company B will not be until the end of the week, and I didn't want to tell them I wanted to see what the other company wanted to offer me as well, so I can make a decision.
BA said he didn't want to put me on the spot, but he wanted an answer right away. As in, right there and then. The statement was contradicting itself, I thought, but I understood his point. I never got the impression that filling the position was urgent, though. I was never told that. I was sure he wanted to hire me right away to get things over with, but he didn't give me much of a choice and wanted me to cancel my other applications. Also, I was told that if I accepted the offer, I will be attending a meeting that afternoon with the board. I was shocked because I did not know what to expect, and I wish I had been told that.
He gave me 20 minutes to think it over while he talked to another applicant he was offering another position to. I got in touch with my friends and family to help me make a decision because I was so confused. I wished people here were more professional and didn't get pissed at you for considering other offers or applications. People are easily offended over here, and so it wouldn't be so wise to tell them that you are considering other companies.
I had to make a decision, and I had to make it fast. I took a gamble and said, "if they don't accept me after telling them this, then it just wasn't meant to be". I was surprised when I informed BA that I can't accept the offer right now because I really wanted to think it over. He knew what that meant and I was surprised he gave me a few days. I promised to call at as soon as possible once I've made a decision. I thought they were going to drop me (he implied a few times that if I'm on board, I'm on board; or else, they'll continue looking for other candidates) but he saw my decisiveness and how professional I was about it (probably saw himself in me), and couldn't just say 'fuck it'.
I was glad about that, because if my application with Company B didn't work out, I'm assured of a job with Company A. I think it's pretty obvious now that I'm more inclined towards Company B--I'll explain in a bit.
Anyway, I was told that Big Bosses from Company B will be conducting the final interviews. I was expecting to have it with just one of them, but it turns out we all have to meet Big Boss A before the last interview with Big Boss B.
I had a tip about BBA (Big Boss A): that he can be intimidating and I have to do my best to impress him. I was very nervous because even when I smiled and had a pleasant energy about me, I felt it was ignored.
I was starting to see a pattern with how they do interviews with Company B--you have to try to put a poker face on and minimalize any form of expression or emotion. I noticed, however, that after the interviews, the interviewers appear to be much more pleasant; nice, even.
Going back to the interview with BBA--he asked me a few questions, some of which took me by surprise. One, in particular, scared me so much it gave me long pauses in between words. My mind felt like it was all over the place, so my initial answer was wrong, but he explained to me that that was not the answer he was looking for, so I re-answered it. Apparently, the question is kind of like a staple during job interviews: what is the job description for the position you're applying for?
I remembered all the job descriptions I read online whenever I sent out applications to employers and patterned my answered after those. Fortunately, I got it right, and he seemed to be relieved I got the answer, as well. He warned me that the culture, and job will be challenging and competitive, and told me I should be ready for that. Earlier during the interview, I mentioned that public speaking was one of my skills, and he said that even when I mentioned I had that skill, I seemed to be very uncomfortable. Again, honesty and sincerity saved me--I calmly told him that I don't have a problem interacting with a variety of people, however, I was a little nervous because I wanted to do well in the interview because I wanted to work for the company. I was glad when he said that that was okay. When I left, I thought I blew it.
I was asked to come back after lunch. I met this guy who was applying for the same position as I did, and asked him about his own application. I would most likely be seeing him around if we both got in so I tried being friendly with him. We talked after lunch and shared our experiences with the interview we just had--apparently his didn't go too well. Nonetheless, the fact that we were asked to return for the SUPER FINAL interview meant that we passed, which was a huge relief. Neither of us believed we did good with BBA, but now that we only had one more thing keeping us from getting a job offer, we wished each other luck and hoped for the best.
We waited for around an hour and talked about our previous jobs, where we lived and our work experiences. I found out later that we graduated from the same university (we were both excited about this) and we know at least one common person. He was actually just a year my senior, and because we went to the same building in college, we might have crossed paths but never really knew. We thought it was cool.
We got more and more nervous as time passed by, but we were also excited and started to talk about what it would be like working there. We laughed about how we were getting ahead of ourselves and forced ourselves to worry about the present first.
My interview with BBB (Big Boss B) was okay. I was unsure if she liked me, or if I was convincing; again, they tried to maintain a neutral expression, so I didn't know if I was saying something good or not. I used the Honest and Sincere cards again, and although I stuttered a couple of times and wished I had said some things better, I just told myself I did my best, and if I didn't make it, I had another offer anyway.
Later that night, I got a message from Company B saying I passed, and I will be getting a job offer the following week.
I was in a state of confusion after I finished my application with Company B. I started going over the pros and cons of each organization, and realized there were more pros with Company A than B. The only thing that drew me towards B was the prestige I will get from my work experience there. However, I'll have to make a shitton of sacrifices--move out, meaning spend a lot on rent/water/electricity and food, risk not having a strong internet connection at the boarding house and share a room with other people (no privacy). Plus, I'm assuming the job will be as stressful as my previous one; and that was one of the reasons I left that one in the first place.
It appears I would have more freedom with A, and I'm sure people won't be hard to deal with. I don't have to move out and I can sleep later and go home later with no problem. I can basically go to work and come home with my eyes closed. I don't have to give everything up, so I will have more savings; meaning, I can get myself a camera and/or my own laptop and go to a photography class.
Even later that day, though, I realized that making sacrifices, learning from the right people, and working for a well-known, big organization will benefit me in the long run, compared to... well... not giving up anything, hoarding short-term benefits and working for an organization even smaller than my previous one. I've talked to my loved ones and friends about this, and at times they would ask me to make a decision because I have to pick whatever works for me; but not once did they show any indication that they favored A (despite all the added benefits on top of having a job). They all agreed that despite the BIG BAD cons parading behind company B's job offer (which I have yet to see, by the way), it was still more beneficial for me.
I ended up asking Miles* what he thought, and as much as he wanted me to be more healthy, have more time to relax and not have to give up so many things (the list is too long, I can even squeeze it in here) just to be able to work, if it'll help me in the long run, then I should go for it. He said that it doesn't matter that I put up with the stress for another two years, because I'll be with him by then. Sounded good to me.
I have high hopes about this new job. It's a blessing and I worked hard to get it, so I'll will myself to maintain positive feelings for it. I hope that everything goes well and I can stay for more than just one year here, and that I'll love the people I'll be working with. I hope that I get to feel the pros more than the cons the longer I stay. I hope this helps me more than hurts me, and best of all, I hope this freaking improves my health somehow!
I hope my decisions don't fail me.
Wish me luck.
Lilith
--
*Code name/s
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
ATYT: Conflicted about having kids
I've recently been having a dilemma about kids. It seems the older I get, the less attractive the idea of having them is. It's strange--before college, I could never imagine myself having kids. In fact, I always shelved the idea when it crossed my mind. All I knew back then was I only wanted one child in the future, but that's it.
I started getting broody in college. I would have dreams about my future daughter, and once, my future son, and got depressed in the morning because in the dreams my 'baby' always ends up being taken away from me somehow. In one dream, my beautiful daughter was kidnapped. In another, my newborn son died. Nonetheless, I really wanted to have a child for some reason. Not a baby... like, a toddler. I wanted to take care of something. I was being a woman, and I guess my nurturing instincts were at its peak at that time because it was probably the best time for me to have children. I believe your body dictates your would-be lifestyle--tailored-fit to your unique self, of course. However, the Real World Lilith wasn't ready. She was in college, had so much ahead of her that should not yet involve children.
I've always been awkward with kids. I'd always be too polite with the majority of them, whether they're blood-related to me or not. I've only been comfortable with one or two children in my life--and they weren't even relatives. They were also far from shy, and very intelligent. Yep, you guessed it--I'm not the type to baby-talk kids and give them funny nicknames. I do that with pets. But humans are humans and I talk to kids the way I talk to regular people--more patient, more caring, kinder, of course, but I don't lengthen words and use a weird voice with them. I understand some kids may prefer this, because if they see that an adult could switch to I-speak-kid mode, they could easily relate to them.
I'm not sure if my uncertainty stems from that fact... let's ask psych majors. All I know is, right now, my life is a mess and so many things are holding me back from doing the things I need to do and want to do... and I feel like the time I originally hoped to have kids would have to be pushed further into the future.
There's also the nasty reality of having to go through so much stress and pain, for at least 21 years--from the time Lilith Junior is a fetus up 'til when she's in college. If she's a little more like me then she'll continue to be under my care (ish) 'til infinity.
It's like... I don't know. You carry them in your belly for nine months where your activities are somewhat limited: no meds, you can't do certain physical activities, you can't dye your hair, you have all these... preggo symptoms you have to deal with... you go through labor and it hurts like fuck, you have to feed your child and they pull too hard and it hurts like fuck, you stay up all night trying to figure out why they're crying, and then they get old enough to get themselves in enough trouble to give you heart attacks, then they get even older and start rejecting your attempts to correct, guide or even connect with them because they're at a very awkward stage where they are confused with so many things in life that they just want you to stay away, then they get into loads of trouble again that, despite how tolerant you believed you were, you just couldn't stand seeing your own flesh and blood fucking up like that and you get massive headaches at the shit they pull, then they start sleeping around and having relationships and they just won't open up to you sometimes and it drives you crazy but you can't do anything about it... et cetera... the list goes on.
This is the ugly truth.
The moment you decide to (whether it was accidental at first or not) have a child, thousands of other possibilities end for you. True, you open a whole different chapter in your life when you enter parenthood, but I cringe at the echoing voices of a thousand people I've heard all throughout my life who reiterate: 'parenthood is beautiful' and 'mothers are heroes' and 'children bring you joy, they are gifts' and 'having children is the most wonderful thing in the world'. These are all truths, and I clearly remember agreeing... however, right now, I can only shake my head at the thought.
Just like there are no perfect parents, there are no perfect children. There will be shittons of disappointment and I'm sure it'll hurt; I can just imagine how horrible my parents feel knowing I am the way I am. Of course they accept me, as every parent should, but I know that deep inside, parents will always want to change something about their children. It doesn't matter how trivial it is... we're all human, and we all strive to be the best we can be and we want the 'best' for people we love. Then again, same concept--we're human, so we have different interpretations of what's 'best' for us and for others.
I guess now I realize that parenthood isn't about just raising children well. Of course it is... but... there's a bigger complication that comes with it, and that is the burden of acceptance. Now I understand that I am not ready. Ready to nurture a baby, yes. Ready to raise one... not so much.
I hope I'd still be young enough by the time I decide to give it a go. Haha. And I hope by that time I'd accomplished as much as I should to deserve a reward, a Little Lilith.
Lilith
I started getting broody in college. I would have dreams about my future daughter, and once, my future son, and got depressed in the morning because in the dreams my 'baby' always ends up being taken away from me somehow. In one dream, my beautiful daughter was kidnapped. In another, my newborn son died. Nonetheless, I really wanted to have a child for some reason. Not a baby... like, a toddler. I wanted to take care of something. I was being a woman, and I guess my nurturing instincts were at its peak at that time because it was probably the best time for me to have children. I believe your body dictates your would-be lifestyle--tailored-fit to your unique self, of course. However, the Real World Lilith wasn't ready. She was in college, had so much ahead of her that should not yet involve children.
I've always been awkward with kids. I'd always be too polite with the majority of them, whether they're blood-related to me or not. I've only been comfortable with one or two children in my life--and they weren't even relatives. They were also far from shy, and very intelligent. Yep, you guessed it--I'm not the type to baby-talk kids and give them funny nicknames. I do that with pets. But humans are humans and I talk to kids the way I talk to regular people--more patient, more caring, kinder, of course, but I don't lengthen words and use a weird voice with them. I understand some kids may prefer this, because if they see that an adult could switch to I-speak-kid mode, they could easily relate to them.
I'm not sure if my uncertainty stems from that fact... let's ask psych majors. All I know is, right now, my life is a mess and so many things are holding me back from doing the things I need to do and want to do... and I feel like the time I originally hoped to have kids would have to be pushed further into the future.
There's also the nasty reality of having to go through so much stress and pain, for at least 21 years--from the time Lilith Junior is a fetus up 'til when she's in college. If she's a little more like me then she'll continue to be under my care (ish) 'til infinity.
It's like... I don't know. You carry them in your belly for nine months where your activities are somewhat limited: no meds, you can't do certain physical activities, you can't dye your hair, you have all these... preggo symptoms you have to deal with... you go through labor and it hurts like fuck, you have to feed your child and they pull too hard and it hurts like fuck, you stay up all night trying to figure out why they're crying, and then they get old enough to get themselves in enough trouble to give you heart attacks, then they get even older and start rejecting your attempts to correct, guide or even connect with them because they're at a very awkward stage where they are confused with so many things in life that they just want you to stay away, then they get into loads of trouble again that, despite how tolerant you believed you were, you just couldn't stand seeing your own flesh and blood fucking up like that and you get massive headaches at the shit they pull, then they start sleeping around and having relationships and they just won't open up to you sometimes and it drives you crazy but you can't do anything about it... et cetera... the list goes on.
This is the ugly truth.
The moment you decide to (whether it was accidental at first or not) have a child, thousands of other possibilities end for you. True, you open a whole different chapter in your life when you enter parenthood, but I cringe at the echoing voices of a thousand people I've heard all throughout my life who reiterate: 'parenthood is beautiful' and 'mothers are heroes' and 'children bring you joy, they are gifts' and 'having children is the most wonderful thing in the world'. These are all truths, and I clearly remember agreeing... however, right now, I can only shake my head at the thought.
Just like there are no perfect parents, there are no perfect children. There will be shittons of disappointment and I'm sure it'll hurt; I can just imagine how horrible my parents feel knowing I am the way I am. Of course they accept me, as every parent should, but I know that deep inside, parents will always want to change something about their children. It doesn't matter how trivial it is... we're all human, and we all strive to be the best we can be and we want the 'best' for people we love. Then again, same concept--we're human, so we have different interpretations of what's 'best' for us and for others.
I guess now I realize that parenthood isn't about just raising children well. Of course it is... but... there's a bigger complication that comes with it, and that is the burden of acceptance. Now I understand that I am not ready. Ready to nurture a baby, yes. Ready to raise one... not so much.
I hope I'd still be young enough by the time I decide to give it a go. Haha. And I hope by that time I'd accomplished as much as I should to deserve a reward, a Little Lilith.
Lilith
Friday, August 2, 2013
Lilith: Toll fees
The title is not literal.
I suck. I used to write very good blog posts... back in my not-so-anonymous blogs. Now I can only sigh at the length and the frustrating lack of passion in every word I seem to post on here. I think the best one has been the very first entry—but I guess all this—this hollow sensation I’m getting—is just because I feel like my life has no real purpose right now. I’m unemployed, having a hard time looking for a job, probably being rejected by all the firms I’ve sent applications to and that have screened me, and probably made a stupid mistake turning down a job offer only because it will ruin my health.
(Only ruin my health? Really? “Only”?
(hmm, guess I still made the right decision...?))
I think my depression shows through my eating and sleeping habits: my appetite has been weak for almost two months now. I gained back the ten pounds I lost when I was still employed, but I’m not exactly healthy. I think I eat half the amount of what I usually do, which is 50% less than the right amount of food intake if I want to reach my goal weight. More meat! More carbs! More veggies! But nope. I’m too depressed right now to even get excited over my favorite dishes. That, ladies and gentlemen, got me very worried.
I discovered something—with the right kind of rice, and with some chopsticks I can eat as much as I can without having to deal much with my PMS-y appetite. But we didn’t have any chopsticks, so I ate with one hand, using a fork. For everything.
I think there’s a certain appeal to eating with one hand as opposed to two; an appeal to only being able to put so much in your mouth at one time. A spoon can easily ruin that—especially a big one (which we have and use. Can’t stand it! Toads have bigger mouths than I do!).
I think there’s a deeper science with eating food. Duh. There definitely is—it’s psychology. If people who work in the food industry know there’s a proper way to eat certain foods (y’know, what wine goes with what, what type of pasta or cheese to use with what dish, etc.), then there are ways to literally eat food that will make them taste better for you.
I think M&M’s taste better when you crush them with your teeth while they’re lying vertically between them. When I was in high school, I knew a couple of people that ate their potato chips by crushing the contents and getting a plastic spoon to scoop the crushed bits with. I’ve heard of people using ketchup for everything—yes, even for dishes with soup. *Shudder*
Here’s my fascination with consuming only tiny, bite-sized amounts of food in my mouth—figured it always leaves you wanting more. Our helper’s cooking is a carbon copy of my mom’s, so there’s no room for disinterest. I thought how embarrassing it would be if people actually saw me eating with just a fork, but you have to do something to maintain your health.
I keep running out of companies to send applications to. I’ve looked up Top 1000 companies and sent applications even to whatever hasn’t been included in the list. I was stupid not to start searching right after I left my job.
Ugh, but I needed to rest. I was a wreck—I literally looked like a zombie back then. You’ve no idea.
If I wasn’t so goddamned unhealthy, I could’ve just saw to it that I’d have a place to go to after leaving work. Oh, well, I’m young and stupid. Young people make mistakes (but they’re pretty fucking dumb if they repeat them... so that means I’m brainless!) and I figured the best way to learn from something is to learn it the hard way.
I’ve gotten lost so many times, but it’s because of those moments of darkness that I am now enlightened.
Shit, did the brainless Lilith just say something cool? Uh oh, damn, now I’m gonna be popular. Hey, want me to sign your shirt? Your butt?
Kidding aside.
I give myself brain damage by smashing my head against the wall everyday out of sheer self-disappointment... but something keeps telling me that I’m still doing the right thing. I mean, I’m doing my best. I’ve done nothing but look for jobs and send applications besides reading books, watching and reading the news, eating, bathing and sleeping.
I suck. I used to write very good blog posts... back in my not-so-anonymous blogs. Now I can only sigh at the length and the frustrating lack of passion in every word I seem to post on here. I think the best one has been the very first entry—but I guess all this—this hollow sensation I’m getting—is just because I feel like my life has no real purpose right now. I’m unemployed, having a hard time looking for a job, probably being rejected by all the firms I’ve sent applications to and that have screened me, and probably made a stupid mistake turning down a job offer only because it will ruin my health.
(Only ruin my health? Really? “Only”?
(hmm, guess I still made the right decision...?))
I think my depression shows through my eating and sleeping habits: my appetite has been weak for almost two months now. I gained back the ten pounds I lost when I was still employed, but I’m not exactly healthy. I think I eat half the amount of what I usually do, which is 50% less than the right amount of food intake if I want to reach my goal weight. More meat! More carbs! More veggies! But nope. I’m too depressed right now to even get excited over my favorite dishes. That, ladies and gentlemen, got me very worried.
I discovered something—with the right kind of rice, and with some chopsticks I can eat as much as I can without having to deal much with my PMS-y appetite. But we didn’t have any chopsticks, so I ate with one hand, using a fork. For everything.
I think there’s a certain appeal to eating with one hand as opposed to two; an appeal to only being able to put so much in your mouth at one time. A spoon can easily ruin that—especially a big one (which we have and use. Can’t stand it! Toads have bigger mouths than I do!).
I think there’s a deeper science with eating food. Duh. There definitely is—it’s psychology. If people who work in the food industry know there’s a proper way to eat certain foods (y’know, what wine goes with what, what type of pasta or cheese to use with what dish, etc.), then there are ways to literally eat food that will make them taste better for you.
I think M&M’s taste better when you crush them with your teeth while they’re lying vertically between them. When I was in high school, I knew a couple of people that ate their potato chips by crushing the contents and getting a plastic spoon to scoop the crushed bits with. I’ve heard of people using ketchup for everything—yes, even for dishes with soup. *Shudder*
Here’s my fascination with consuming only tiny, bite-sized amounts of food in my mouth—figured it always leaves you wanting more. Our helper’s cooking is a carbon copy of my mom’s, so there’s no room for disinterest. I thought how embarrassing it would be if people actually saw me eating with just a fork, but you have to do something to maintain your health.
I keep running out of companies to send applications to. I’ve looked up Top 1000 companies and sent applications even to whatever hasn’t been included in the list. I was stupid not to start searching right after I left my job.
Ugh, but I needed to rest. I was a wreck—I literally looked like a zombie back then. You’ve no idea.
If I wasn’t so goddamned unhealthy, I could’ve just saw to it that I’d have a place to go to after leaving work. Oh, well, I’m young and stupid. Young people make mistakes (but they’re pretty fucking dumb if they repeat them... so that means I’m brainless!) and I figured the best way to learn from something is to learn it the hard way.
I’ve gotten lost so many times, but it’s because of those moments of darkness that I am now enlightened.
Shit, did the brainless Lilith just say something cool? Uh oh, damn, now I’m gonna be popular. Hey, want me to sign your shirt? Your butt?
Kidding aside.
I give myself brain damage by smashing my head against the wall everyday out of sheer self-disappointment... but something keeps telling me that I’m still doing the right thing. I mean, I’m doing my best. I’ve done nothing but look for jobs and send applications besides reading books, watching and reading the news, eating, bathing and sleeping.
I’m on the right track. I’m on the right
track. I’m on the right track.
Right?
Thursday, August 1, 2013
Lilith: When a relationship matures
I’m not a relationship expert. Nonetheless,
I can speak for the feminine gender regarding this subject, and can probably give
sound opinions on the matter... I think.
-_-
The nature of a romantic relationship you have when you’re in your teens is different from that of one you have when you’re in your twenties, thirties, etc. Of course, we can’t make generalizations, because each relationship is unique.
The nature of a romantic relationship you have when you’re in your teens is different from that of one you have when you’re in your twenties, thirties, etc. Of course, we can’t make generalizations, because each relationship is unique.
If you’re one of those people
who have been with your partner since you were teenagers (we are now, of
course, assuming you’re much older), I assume many things have changed in your
relationship. You may be more deeply connected, or connected in more ways than
you could have ever imagined when you first dated. Perhaps you’re sick of one
another, or are hating each other more and more as time passes. You could also
be falling, or growing apart.
If you’re anything like me and you care about staying together, you will see the problem/s and have intelligent forecasts—and a lot of times you won’t see good things in the future—so you talk to your boyfriend or girlfriend about it and find ways, together, to improve things.
My biggest relationship issues have something to do with verbal and mental communication. When you’re in a new relationship, you never really run out of things to talk about and you don’t have to be good at reading each other’s actions. You will usually be pleased with the things you discover about one another, because you and your partner strive to put your best feet forward at all times. You do this too much that when you are faced with your first challenge—a disturbing discovery—you can easily shrug it off.
Miles* and I were the happiest couple I knew. That honeymoon stage lasted for, I think, two years.
But early into the first year, when I was at my happiest with him, he crushed my heart for the very first time. I was obsessed with looking people up online, so when I looked him up, I found out he had a girlfriend.
We’ve been dating for around three to four months then. How could he have “forgotten” to mention that? I confronted him the following day, after I thought I would die of hypertension from stress.
He told me he had already broken up with her. He said he had taken care of that two weeks prior to my discovery. It didn’t help anything and I didn’t trust him at all... but that, I figured, wasn’t the worst of my discoveries. It was just the beginning of my trip to Calvary (more on that on this blog in the near future). I can sort of laugh at that one now that I have more serious and alarming issues—now, with real, heavy, adult-relationship concerns, I find that fault cute.
If you’re anything like me and you care about staying together, you will see the problem/s and have intelligent forecasts—and a lot of times you won’t see good things in the future—so you talk to your boyfriend or girlfriend about it and find ways, together, to improve things.
My biggest relationship issues have something to do with verbal and mental communication. When you’re in a new relationship, you never really run out of things to talk about and you don’t have to be good at reading each other’s actions. You will usually be pleased with the things you discover about one another, because you and your partner strive to put your best feet forward at all times. You do this too much that when you are faced with your first challenge—a disturbing discovery—you can easily shrug it off.
Miles* and I were the happiest couple I knew. That honeymoon stage lasted for, I think, two years.
But early into the first year, when I was at my happiest with him, he crushed my heart for the very first time. I was obsessed with looking people up online, so when I looked him up, I found out he had a girlfriend.
We’ve been dating for around three to four months then. How could he have “forgotten” to mention that? I confronted him the following day, after I thought I would die of hypertension from stress.
He told me he had already broken up with her. He said he had taken care of that two weeks prior to my discovery. It didn’t help anything and I didn’t trust him at all... but that, I figured, wasn’t the worst of my discoveries. It was just the beginning of my trip to Calvary (more on that on this blog in the near future). I can sort of laugh at that one now that I have more serious and alarming issues—now, with real, heavy, adult-relationship concerns, I find that fault cute.
I broke up with Miles at one
point because he had just become so indifferent, short, and cold; on top of
being his typical uninterested self. I admit that I can be easily bothered by
hurtful words, but that’s because you are supposed to be compassionate towards
people you care about/love. I end up making a big deal out of such things,
which in turn, upsets him and stresses him out, and then he gets short and
irate. He would spit one offensive sentence after another, just adding insult
to injury. I try to reason out with him, try to enlighten him about what
exactly is happening, but he’s already shut
me out. He only cared about having a good night’s rest over solving
pressing matters.
Before the break-up, he made me
cry every day (I used to barely cry because of him)—he didn’t care about the
relationship anymore, and he was sick of me. Sick of me caring about this
relationship and trying to fix it and trying to explain to him that he shouldn’t
be hurting me, and that he should be kind to me. He always assured he was
trying his best to be better, but I always found that hard to believe because
right after every promise that he’ll sensitive to my feelings, he would find
another way to similarly offend me—within another week, the following day, or
the next half hour.
We were dealing with an endless cycle of fuckup-fight- makeup. Each time we fight we are slightly different people—I think we like each other less and we pull away from each other more. He’s less patient, I’m less forgiving, he’s less sensitive and I’m stricter. The only point we meet at? We were both growing exponentially lax towards each other. He can grab me and throw me around as he pleases because he knows I’ll never leave him; I can do the same because I believe I have the right to. Is it okay that we do these things? I don’t own him, and he shouldn’t be taking me for granted. We are equally at fault and we screw each other up equally. The good news? We’re both intelligent and underneath all the anger and hatred, we knew what was wrong, and what we should do.
We do have miraculous, and rather peaceful conversations wherein we discuss about how we can improve our relationship. We talk about the manner we address each other and how to make it better. I suggest a shitton of things to help us get closer again, besides the usual link-sharing and storytelling.
Miles and I are from very different backgrounds. For one, only one of us is Asian. We were brought up differently, too. He’s government/service-oriented employee and I’m in the communications/creative field. I can write and draw and shit and he can do math and engineering shit. He has a dick, I have mammaries (I think). He’s just a few years older, which means I’m still a few years older than he is. I’m good at handling money, he... needs improvement in that area. The world amazes me, and I am endlessly fascinated by so many things—a dynamic character, that used to be one-dimensional and self-centered and contended living inside a box. He’s a little bit more into specific things, and will tend to avoid things outside of his expertise or interest. He makes up for that by being outgoing, wanting to explore the world, never being able to stay put at home like I do. In short, he’s a dog, and I’m a cat.
We were dealing with an endless cycle of fuckup-fight- makeup. Each time we fight we are slightly different people—I think we like each other less and we pull away from each other more. He’s less patient, I’m less forgiving, he’s less sensitive and I’m stricter. The only point we meet at? We were both growing exponentially lax towards each other. He can grab me and throw me around as he pleases because he knows I’ll never leave him; I can do the same because I believe I have the right to. Is it okay that we do these things? I don’t own him, and he shouldn’t be taking me for granted. We are equally at fault and we screw each other up equally. The good news? We’re both intelligent and underneath all the anger and hatred, we knew what was wrong, and what we should do.
We do have miraculous, and rather peaceful conversations wherein we discuss about how we can improve our relationship. We talk about the manner we address each other and how to make it better. I suggest a shitton of things to help us get closer again, besides the usual link-sharing and storytelling.
Miles and I are from very different backgrounds. For one, only one of us is Asian. We were brought up differently, too. He’s government/service-oriented employee and I’m in the communications/creative field. I can write and draw and shit and he can do math and engineering shit. He has a dick, I have mammaries (I think). He’s just a few years older, which means I’m still a few years older than he is. I’m good at handling money, he... needs improvement in that area. The world amazes me, and I am endlessly fascinated by so many things—a dynamic character, that used to be one-dimensional and self-centered and contended living inside a box. He’s a little bit more into specific things, and will tend to avoid things outside of his expertise or interest. He makes up for that by being outgoing, wanting to explore the world, never being able to stay put at home like I do. In short, he’s a dog, and I’m a cat.
I guess that’s where some of
our problems lie. We’re actually so different. Neither of us ever thought we’d ever
disagree so much about so many things at the beginning of the relationship. And,
duh, it’s because we only shared our interests with each other—and tried to
mirror each other.
As our relationship aged, we slacked off more. Yes, we got busier, dealt with more real-life problems as time passed, but you can only control that so much until it starts to control you.
Thankfully life stress hasn’t gotten to me bad enough to ruin my love life yet. His tolerance seems to be a little smaller, since he can only handle so much ‘til he breaks. I insist that he can help it, that he can help himself, because there’s no other way but to do that unless he wants to ruin us; but he needs more time to learn how to.
Controlling your emotions, especially negative ones, can be learned. As educated adults, he and I can support each other on that, to have a more positive attitude that will help him and I become us again.
Being uninterested, tuning out, and lack of verbal communication, though, can be a massive deal breaker. Just because you’re from different backgrounds doesn’t mean you have to remain an alien to their world. You actually shouldn’t. I think it’s so cool that mom can’t do sports and isn’t into sports, but she watches with my dad the sports guy, and understands basically every sport’s mechanics. I find it even cooler that dad the action movie fan buys and watches feel-good, female-skewed movies with my mom and I. And likes it! These seemingly simple gestures are far greater than what they appear to be.
I now tell Miles that there’s no reason to just sit there and listen when I talk about my work. It feels like a chore when I explain terms he may not be familiar with because he just stares blankly at me and nods and mhms. I don’t know if he gets it, and I’m sure he doesn’t, so I encourage him to ask. What, why, how. I like it when people ask me questions. I’d LOVE it if he did. His work jargon usually throws me off sometimes so I’d politely (or sometimes, impatiently, because hello, I don’t know anything about machine work) ask him to explain what this one tool is, its purpose, how it’s dealt with, et cetera. To be honest, his face kind of lights up a little when I ask questions—not just about work, or his hobbies that I don’t share with him, but about things in general... like things I don’t understand, or his opinion on a theory, experience or event.
I think that one of the best ways to keep each other happy in a relationship is to keep learning more about each other. This requires a keen sense of observation and a natural, endless curiosity about the other person. Your partner-pleasing powers increase when you know more about them.
As our relationship aged, we slacked off more. Yes, we got busier, dealt with more real-life problems as time passed, but you can only control that so much until it starts to control you.
Thankfully life stress hasn’t gotten to me bad enough to ruin my love life yet. His tolerance seems to be a little smaller, since he can only handle so much ‘til he breaks. I insist that he can help it, that he can help himself, because there’s no other way but to do that unless he wants to ruin us; but he needs more time to learn how to.
Controlling your emotions, especially negative ones, can be learned. As educated adults, he and I can support each other on that, to have a more positive attitude that will help him and I become us again.
Being uninterested, tuning out, and lack of verbal communication, though, can be a massive deal breaker. Just because you’re from different backgrounds doesn’t mean you have to remain an alien to their world. You actually shouldn’t. I think it’s so cool that mom can’t do sports and isn’t into sports, but she watches with my dad the sports guy, and understands basically every sport’s mechanics. I find it even cooler that dad the action movie fan buys and watches feel-good, female-skewed movies with my mom and I. And likes it! These seemingly simple gestures are far greater than what they appear to be.
I now tell Miles that there’s no reason to just sit there and listen when I talk about my work. It feels like a chore when I explain terms he may not be familiar with because he just stares blankly at me and nods and mhms. I don’t know if he gets it, and I’m sure he doesn’t, so I encourage him to ask. What, why, how. I like it when people ask me questions. I’d LOVE it if he did. His work jargon usually throws me off sometimes so I’d politely (or sometimes, impatiently, because hello, I don’t know anything about machine work) ask him to explain what this one tool is, its purpose, how it’s dealt with, et cetera. To be honest, his face kind of lights up a little when I ask questions—not just about work, or his hobbies that I don’t share with him, but about things in general... like things I don’t understand, or his opinion on a theory, experience or event.
I think that one of the best ways to keep each other happy in a relationship is to keep learning more about each other. This requires a keen sense of observation and a natural, endless curiosity about the other person. Your partner-pleasing powers increase when you know more about them.
If you really are into your
partner, consider these things: you don’t have to share every interest, but showing
them that you’re willing to be part of their world more, learn about them
endlessly, keeps them just as interested in you. Remember what got you together
in the first place—shared interests,
opinions, experiences.
I have a feeling we’ll get back together very soon.
I have a feeling we’ll get back together very soon.
Lilith
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*Code name/s
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*Code name/s
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Lilith: What has changed since then
One of the many things I
considered before I decided to go back into blogging was the radical change of
my life’s scenery today from a few years ago. Let’s see: a few years ago, I was
still in university, biting my nails over my future each day. A few years ago,
I wanted to live on my own (I still do, because... who doesn’t?), but it was a
much bigger deal back then, because I was not expecting to spend my money on
something more expensive in the near future. I would sleep so early at night,
around 7-8:00 p.m., to wake up extremely early in the morning, around 2-3:00
a.m., so I could talk to the guy I liked. I had 3 a.m. “dinners”. I’ve never
had a dog give birth. I was more single than not. I looked better because I
regularly went to a martial arts class. I was unemployed. Unemployed.
I have a caffeine problem right now. I don’t like the taste of acid of my tongue, not to mention the unbearable pain brought about by Being A Fucking Woman at certain times of the month, so I tried withdrawing from coffee. It was fine at first, until my body (yeah, right) realized that it’s what jumpstarts me every day. It’s what launches me into the damn moon. But in the afternoon, a nagging feeling drags me to the kitchen to make myself another mug. I know... another. Mug.
I think I’ve gotten so used to the sour/bitter taste in my tongue that I probably wouldn’t know when to stop, even when I have to. I wonder if decaf will help.
I am currently floating between ‘single’ and ‘taken’ and it’s not the most comfortable thing. I’ve had some serious issues with Miles*... and for that reason, I’ve stopped being too reliable. I mirror his indifference, much to his dismay, but hey, you should get only as much (or less) as you give if you’re an asshole.
I have a caffeine problem right now. I don’t like the taste of acid of my tongue, not to mention the unbearable pain brought about by Being A Fucking Woman at certain times of the month, so I tried withdrawing from coffee. It was fine at first, until my body (yeah, right) realized that it’s what jumpstarts me every day. It’s what launches me into the damn moon. But in the afternoon, a nagging feeling drags me to the kitchen to make myself another mug. I know... another. Mug.
I think I’ve gotten so used to the sour/bitter taste in my tongue that I probably wouldn’t know when to stop, even when I have to. I wonder if decaf will help.
I am currently floating between ‘single’ and ‘taken’ and it’s not the most comfortable thing. I’ve had some serious issues with Miles*... and for that reason, I’ve stopped being too reliable. I mirror his indifference, much to his dismay, but hey, you should get only as much (or less) as you give if you’re an asshole.
I am still being punished for
making the stupidest decision in my life: leaving (read: not ‘quitting’, as my previous boss so insistently
asserted when I handed over my resignation letter) my job without a replacement
job.
When I look back on the day of my resignation, I wonder how things could have turned out if I chickened out. I was about to meet a new client, my first own account, the day after I planned to submit my letter (my boss was on sick leave that day). If I stayed longer, I probably would have been promoted around this time. Something tells me, though, that I would have broken down at some point, because I was a zombie even before I resigned.
God, you should’ve seen me. Gray skin, eye bags, stringy hair... my body was a thin layer of flesh covering bones.
I couldn’t sleep, did not want to go out during the weekends, barely ate because of stress and depression, hated myself everyday for going to work. I knew from the very beginning that pursuing a career that I knew I wouldn’t like would someday take its toll on me... and it did early on... but it did that more and more, each event worse than the previous one.
When I look back on the day of my resignation, I wonder how things could have turned out if I chickened out. I was about to meet a new client, my first own account, the day after I planned to submit my letter (my boss was on sick leave that day). If I stayed longer, I probably would have been promoted around this time. Something tells me, though, that I would have broken down at some point, because I was a zombie even before I resigned.
God, you should’ve seen me. Gray skin, eye bags, stringy hair... my body was a thin layer of flesh covering bones.
I couldn’t sleep, did not want to go out during the weekends, barely ate because of stress and depression, hated myself everyday for going to work. I knew from the very beginning that pursuing a career that I knew I wouldn’t like would someday take its toll on me... and it did early on... but it did that more and more, each event worse than the previous one.
I’m still somehow relieved I
left, because things could have only gotten worse. It wasn’t really the people,
not the clients, not the environment. It was definitely not me. It was the
nature of the job that I didn’t like—I always knew I wasn’t made for that line
of work. I still thank heavens all the time for giving me the opportunity to
survive for a year in a harsh environment, to have the best training ground in
my career life, for the lessons and the great people who entered my life. I
still made the right decision, and it could have been a very good one had I
immediately started job-hunting.
No. I rested for two months. When I started seeking work again, it was hard. There’ve been many interviews, but none of them felt right for me. I am trying to make the right decision this time, but it’s now gotten so difficult that I am just about ready to jump on any opportunity, no matter how much I know I’ll regret it later on.
I hope I don’t have to. I have been heartbroken by three potential employers just because I thought the job would be perfect. I am desperately holding on to hope, but running out of time doesn’t really help you stay positive.
Tomorrow’s my interview with a big real estate business. I’m guessing if I am ever considered for the post that it will be a challenging job, but I still hope to be picked. Nothing is more important to me now than getting my brain cells, my life going again.
If I never find myself working in a non-profit organization, I’m fine with working for a big name. I’ll just have to wait for another opportunity for that one—when I have an established career, I guess.
No. I rested for two months. When I started seeking work again, it was hard. There’ve been many interviews, but none of them felt right for me. I am trying to make the right decision this time, but it’s now gotten so difficult that I am just about ready to jump on any opportunity, no matter how much I know I’ll regret it later on.
I hope I don’t have to. I have been heartbroken by three potential employers just because I thought the job would be perfect. I am desperately holding on to hope, but running out of time doesn’t really help you stay positive.
Tomorrow’s my interview with a big real estate business. I’m guessing if I am ever considered for the post that it will be a challenging job, but I still hope to be picked. Nothing is more important to me now than getting my brain cells, my life going again.
If I never find myself working in a non-profit organization, I’m fine with working for a big name. I’ll just have to wait for another opportunity for that one—when I have an established career, I guess.
The ironies of life are
amusing! When you’re used to looking at both the negative and positive of every
option, decision and situation, you often realize that you’re better off where
you are now than somewhere else. It’s the second half of the year and even when
I am not earning, I am healthy, happier than if I stayed at my old workplace,
look better, and can draw and read and write for leisure all I want. I’m
supposed to get married in two years, supposed to have my own place around this
time, but NOPE. But I have a fairly good relationship with my parents, and now
that I am at my age, I realize that that’s actually pretty cool.
\m/
Lilith
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*Code name/s
\m/
Dear Readers, this is Lilith
Otrera. Welcome to Surrealistic Realism. Yoroshiku onegaishimasu.
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*Code name/s
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