It's the first anniversary of my employment where I work. I'm excited, but mostly relieved because I work at a place where people like and respect me. I'm also comfortable there. I really do love my job, but I'm still asking myself, "Is there more?" What am I waiting for? Is it passing me by without me realizing it?
I think I may have mentioned this in an earlier post. When I was in college I did a research paper on women's diaries. It was interesting. What I found was that:
* Women write in their diaries in spurts.
* If there are significant life events happening, a woman will write, write write
* If life is plugging along at a normal pace then women don't pick up their diary as much.
* Women don't tell the truth in their diaries. Not the entire truth.
The thing of it is, if you write it down then you have placed yourself in a vulnerable position by committing to paper your private thoughts.It's worse if you are using something that looks like a like a diary or journal. What's more tempting for a snoop that someone's deepest darkest thoughts.
So, even in a journal women still feel too inhibitied to speak the truth. Writing our thoughts means it's out there for someone to find. It's no longer theirs.
What do I do now? Really tell the truth? Mention that sometimes I really do wish I could just lay down and die. I'm not suicidal, I don't think. But I do just want to check out.
I look at my fat body and even though it continues to amaze me in its adaptability, I wish I was in someone else's skin. I hide when I see a camera or mirror. Is this really what you want to hear? That sometimes just the thought of dishes in the sink or laundry in the basket completely overwhelms me.
