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Breaking Point.

*Authors Note: This post was originally meant for The Lying, The Bitch & The Wardrobe. I felt it necessary to also post here because it has to do with Diabetes.


I don't reach my breaking point often.

I was a child that was faced with a lot of emotional stress. A lot of change. A lot of trauma. A lot of discord. I was happy in spite of it. Even then, I refused to let anything bad be the cause of my downfall.

I evolved into a woman that has mounds of hope. My hope is almost endless. I believe good things will happen. I believe in laughing in the face of strife. I believe in being as strong as you possibly can because only you have to power to let yourself down. I believe I am deserving and I believe I am capable. I believe I can do anything. My dreams are endless, my passion for life is bountiful and my determination is steadfast.

I fight and I fight hard..but you'll never know that.

Today is one of those days that I'm not winning the fight.

Today, I have reached my breaking point.

I am in that 'poor me' moment. I loathe those moments. I feel broken and defeated. My confidence has been tilted and my hope has been bruised. It's not in my nature to give up, however, I have certainly entertained the thought.

I feel so unaccomplished even though I know I'm not. I had the power and the plucky nerve to change my stars. I always have. Most recently...unabashed, I went headfirst in a Penske toward my dream and I changed everything. I should feel so proud and so wonderful! I should be puffed up like a peacock strutting my ass all over Seattle.

Some days...I do...

Not today. Today I'm more like an ostrich. For what seems like the 100th time, I received a rejection email. The crushing of my soul came in the form of a mass produced impersonal email. Gawd, really? This is why I don't date! I can only take so much rejection! Even if I'm the one doing the rejecting, I feel horrible. Is this what it takes? To feel completely awful and to have your self esteem kicked in the vagina? I don't know.

Do you fall hard before you're picked up? Do you exhaust every possible option before you give up? Do you keep plucking away and harden yourself to the results? I don't know that either.

Don't get me wrong. I love not working! I do! Who wouldn't love to have all the time in the world to do whatever they please? To answer to no one. To be responsible to only yourself. To have the world at your feet and the leisure to walk slowly.

I also love Seattle! The most amazing city and area that I have ever had the pleasure of living in. Granted, I've only lived in NY, FL, TX and NV so that really doesn't give me the right to partake in a grand comparison. But, I think Seattle is amazing and I can see myself being a lifer.

What I don't love is that the freedom of unemployment comes with some pretty tight restraints and difficult boundaries. The first being my disease. I fucking hate Diabetes today. I'm not a fan of it any day, really, but it's something I do. You brush your teeth every day. So do I, but I also check my blood sugar, count carbs, shoot up, don't exercise too much, eat, blah blah blah. It's just another life thing. Well, no job means no benefits. No benefits means no medicine. No medicine means death. This scares the shit out of me.

I do not show Diabetes my fear. I will not give it the satisfaction. I know it will be the death of me. I know my body will slowly destroy itself. Keyword...slowly. I have worked so diligently at getting myself to a spot where everything disease related is as perfect as it can get. Everything I do, every move I make, is so that I live as long as I can, in spite of the fact that I have a chronic disease. Without benefits, I falter, I fail, I risk losing everything I worked so hard to accomplish. A model Diabetic who my Dr. would brag about...may not be so model soon. Without benefits....how will I survive?

Many think spiders are my greatest fear but really it's a Diabetes. I just don't talk about it in terms of losing a limb or worse..my life.

No job means no money. My daughter turns 16 next month. I had told her that I would take her to NYC for her birthday. It literally breaks my heart and hurts so deeply inside my stomach that I can't breathe. It's crippling. I can't. I can't give her anything because I don't have anything to give. Here is where the tears turn into gut wrenching pain. I sob. I had a plan. NYC and a car. I had a plan and I don't like it when plans change. I don't like to be unable to do what I want, when I want, how I want.

I'm a spoiled only child, for fuck sake.

Not only does Amanda turn 16, she is starting a new school in September. No school clothes for her. That's wonderful. Especially considering her jeans are too tight and too short. Great. Wonderful. Makes me feel super accomplished as a mother. Yea.

What I do know is that I am a good person. I can do any job and I can do it well. I won a trip to Oahu for being a great freaking employee!! How can I not get a chance? How can I not even be considered for a job at Starbucks? I don't understand. I've walked into Starbucks and seen the baristas screw up my drink as I'm ordering. I've seen baristas passing out free drinks that they have messed up. I've seen snotty & rude baristas. I've seen dingbat baristas. I am none of those things. And, yes, people make mistakes but jaysus cripes, you won't even consider me for a part time barista position? Why? WHY?!

I don't know why because I'll never be able to ask.

So, I'm having a moment. I've reached my breaking point..which is not pretty, by the way. My daughter just woke up and saw my moment. Good, I guess, because she should know life isn't all sunshine & rainbows. Bad, I guess, because I'm all she has and I'm supposed to be strong and confident. I'm supposed to take care of her. How can I take care of her if I can't take care of myself? How am I supposed to do any when I'm slumped over my desk crying?

I need a hug.


And a rich husband.


And..most of all....a job.


*Peace.

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