8 May 2020: Driving My Bus

11:55 PM

I fucked things up.  It felt good…until it didn’t.  Having those drinks tonight…it felt familiar, comforting.  It was so nice to drown the constant anxiety, feeling of yuckiness…it went away for a few fleeting moments.  For just a few moments, there was emptiness…quiet.  And then everything came roaring back, including guilt, shame, and an even stronger desire to just keep drinking.  

Photo by fotografierende on Pexels.com

The other day, yesterday, things were starting to feel like they might be okay.  Like I might be able to feel like I’m on an even keel…not so crazy.  Things started to feel like I could at least control all the shitty feelings and shut them down if I needed to.  And then tonight happened and I let this shit drive my fucking bus.

And then it started to unravel.  My employee (who has been a pain in my ass from the start) began with the incessant calls and messages.  First full of complaints and whining…followed by threats and anger…and when she took it out on my receptionist, I had to step in.  Our crazy schedules meant that a 7 PM phone call would have to happen.  And in that moment, I prioritized her needs…the needs of this shit faced employee…over the needs of my family.  Because in that moment, she needed support, she needed to be able to vent.  

The first 30 seconds of the phone call were okay, and then as soon as the 3rd sentence out of her mouth was “you aren’t doing a fucking thing to help me”…I knew it was not going to go anywhere.  90 minutes of complaining, blaming, inability to listen to answers being given…and then the low blow personal attacks.  Telling me I’m a worthless piece of shit, that I suck at my job and nobody wants to work for me because I’m a shitty manager, that I don’t do a damn thing to help anybody other than myself.  Accusation and insult after insult.  Fuck it.  I’m done. 

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