S-t-r-u-g-g-l-i-n-g

The interview from last post did not lead to a different job. That was really okay actually, because I was not sure if this would be a better job for me.

I’m really struggling at work. And with life.

Work is really so not nice. It takes so much energy to pass just 3 hours a day at the moment. This was the first week of 3 hours a day. And I’m not even really doing something. How am I going to make it to the end of July? I tried to get holidays in July because I still have hours, but the question is if there is space to give me off. Blah.

I am not sure if I want another job.

I am not sure where I want to go, or what I want to do.

I don’t know what is wise to decide; stay called in sick or call in better for a while and get unemployment pay, but lots of other things I have to do. Or quit everything myself and just go and not have any money.

Sometimes I feel a bit angry and I hate money and all this pressure and these rules.

It doesn’t matter how hard you work, at least not in my case, because where did it lead me? Nowhere. I can’t even be safe moneywise or house-wise.What’s the point? Really.

All I can think of now, is that I would like to be somewhere with a tent on a piece of grass, with a view on water and trees, blue skies and some sun, and not worry about anything. That is what I want. And I want it to last. Not just for 4 days.

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Doomed to live

Some time ago, one of my friends recommended this series on Netflix to me – Gomorra: La serie – an Italian crime drama series. Thanks to watching this series, I ‘discovered’ this music by this band Mokadelic.  Especially one of their songs is one that kind of resonated with me : Doomed to live.

Doomed to live. That’s exactly how I feel sometimes.

I don’t seem good enough to make a decent life. I’m not bad enough to have a very miserable life. I’m not even good or bad enough to be in between. I’m not good enough to make it in this world and keep things spinning, and not bad enough to be really sick or disfunctioning or whatever you call it.

I’m not even in the middle. Somewhere that falls everywhere in between.
I didn’t choose this. I didn’t choose life. Nor did I choose death.

I am just stuck, and doomed to live. Because I’m here. Because I’m there.

That’s what it is. Doomed to live.

That, was that.

I went to the office today and had a talk with my manager and the job agency aka my official employer. I felt superstressed and nauseaus before going there, really had a knot in my stomach. The talk was okay – there is a plan now, which means I’m going back to work from monday and I start with two hours a day.

I also said that I don’t want my contract to be renewed. I think my manager was a bit surprised.  But now everyone knows my contract will end somewhere end of July. So whatever happens, I will not stay in my current job.

So far that, and that was that.

This is the beginning of an end. I don’t know where it will go – it felt difficult, but in my heart I know this is the right decision.

We all have our burdens

To carry on
To leave behind

To know anything but knowledge

There can be a war in a mind
To be blind, when you could see

And rain does not fall down
But captures trees

Reason without reason
Truth without a single lie
More distant
It doesn’t really matter why.

I just wish it would
Make things easier.

The antidote

IMG_9240Once and maybe not even long ago
Not visible by day
At night only by who knows

They used to keep their heads up high
They used to fight the war that challenged them
They used to sell the truth for a lie.

Telling themselves that it was something to manage
Telling themselves that this was temporary
Not ignoring, but trying to calm the damage.

Roots filled with water
Outside of the shadow in the sun
but poison stays poison
where battle turned in to just begun

sometimes it does not really matter
if an end is a start
or a start an end

it’s where the unknown and the known
where meaning and the emptiness
are meant to blend

 

 

 

 

 

Living what life?

Imagine. But it’s a truth.

I have a day job.A changing amount of hours every week. Nothing steady, nothing fancy.   Permanent contracts out of the question . It’s not the question if you have to leave or not:  the question is when.

It’s not a special job: everyone could do it I guess, there is no special degree needed for it, though when they make selections, they kind of pretend it that way.

Despite that the colleagues are nice, I guess the job is not making me happy at all. I keep telling myself that it could be worse, and seriously, this is not the worst job I had. In fact it’s the best, as you speak in friendliness and payment. But that, is not everything.

And however I make enough to support myself, it will not, or never,  make me rich. It will not help me to buy a house or something. It will just help me to pay the bills, and lead a moderate life in terms of – yeah, in terms of what exactly?

Work became something I don’t look forward to anymore. It became dull, unrewarding, and the days become longer, though in minutes they didn’t expand at all. I feel like a robot, a part of a system that isn’t really a good one, but, that’s something you should’t care or question about; it just makes things more complicated for yourself.

there are a lot of indications that this isn’t the job that makes me happy.It gets harder in time. I get headaches, I’m tired, and I care less, I lost my motivation. I try to do things right, but it’s never right anyway and hard working doesn’t get you anywhere. It’s not even notices. Maybe I would really like to find a job in my field of interest, but I don’t really know what my field of interest is. Often people say that is bullshit, but I’m really not sure myself.

As well I always feel like I’m not qualified enough or there is too much asked in a profile which I’m not. Also this game of who’s the best candidate, and all this fancy stuff, isn’t my thing. Sometimes I wonder about going back to study, but it’s unsure how I could afford that or support myself. And if I could make it, with my mental struggles. I guess I have motivation issues. It’s not that I don’t want, I’m not sure exactly what it is. It just makes things complicated. I also wonder if the degree or certificate would help anyway- I don’t think so). It would be just lost money. But what am I working towards to? To keep working like this and supporting myself to rent a house and buy food and keep that going for 20 or 30 years?
I passed the point where all the questions and thoughts keep me from sleeping. It became normal part of my life. Where simply a year ago these things would keep me up , they became a part of me – they don’t keep me from sleeping, but just continue during my sleep.

I wish I could explain how I feel. But the truth is: I’m not sure myself.

All I know is that I struggle to find my words, to find my feelings, to find the change.

All I know is that what you are reading, are just words to you, but it’s blood of my soul.

And all the words that I can’t find, are frustrating me that I can’t get them out.

That I can’t find the step to change. That I can’t do things different.

that I don’t know what I feel. That I dont know what i want.

That I just can’t make things better for myself.

What am I living?

Something I don’t like to talk about

As the title says, I’m going to write about something I don’t like to talk – or write – about.

I don’t know exactly why, but somehow this subject is a bit sensitive for me.

When I was born, I was born as a woman. I’m still a woman. I’m okay with being a woman. Maybe, or very likely, I’m not the stereotype or standard version, but that doesn’t make me something else. Fine so far.

And, just to be clear about how I feel: I don’t feel the need or desire to be a man or something else. I’m fine with the way things are. I don’t feel the need or desire to have a different body. Yes, I have a relationship with another woman, but I don’t see myself as a lesbian or homosexual. I just see mutual love, respect, understanding of the soul. I don’t see relationships as in physical desire, I don’t even particularly like sex, that’s another ‘issue’ but more about that later. I always try to understand how this works for others, because if you believe the media and some common ‘street’ talk, the first thing people do is look and they feel attraction by the physical, often. Not always, but this is what it seems to me , what is the most common way it happens. Correct me if I’m wrong.

Somehow I also notice that most people feel the need to classify man or woman, or how one should look like. I guess you could probably call me more like the androgyne type. I’m none of both and yet both. I have female things in my body and male things in my body – okay everyone has, one more than the other. It doesn’t really matter, and yet it does. This is so full of contrasts.

So. I have more a male body shape, broad shoulders, big and strong, nothing curvy, fluent or however you call those shapes. And (eeks) I have to pull out some hair from my chin and belly, dark black thick hairs. They always come back. My shoe size is too big to buy woman shoes and the shape of my body doesn’t fit in the clothes they make for women. Women’s jeans are halfway my backside so you see half of the underpants, and shirts are always too short that it looks like you wear a shirt bikinistyle. As well, in blouses, shirts, sweaters and so every, my shoulders never fit in. That’s why I often end up buying men’s clothes or unisex or sports gear. I don’t like high heals and I don’t like dresses, so I don’t feel the need to fit in them or buy them. Even if I wanted to – it would not be possible with my body shape.

But those things, can make you a target. Not that I ever really was, but I do notice it in slightly hidden things. Somehow people do not dare to say it to me, but I bet they think so much more. Or maybe talk behind my back – I guess I will never really know. I remember not long ago, when at work there was a meeting about the future at work, and we had to work in groups with people. You had to describe the people in your group based on a little story you told (a story about something that you carry with you). I talked about my pocketknife, that I carry it to cut fruits at work, but that it’s also important gear in outdoor world.I had it for everything but agressive meanings: for me it’s not a weapon at all. It could, but that’s not how I see it. All of the people described me with things as the eager to know or to learn, being prepared.  One guy, who I don’t know so well, described me as ‘boyish’. That’s all that came to his mind. I saw everyone looking at me from the corners of my eye. I didn’t really know what to say or how to react. All I did was look at him and say: if that is what you think about me, then that is what you think. And so the day went on. But I still felt uncomfortable and it made me think. Yes, I wear men’s clothes, I don’t paint my nails and don’t wear make-up and such, but because I’m more neutral, does that make me boyish?

I admit that I am very happy with internetshopping. I don’t like to go in a store and get clothes in the men’s department. It makes me feel ashamed. You get weird faces. Questions.

And still the answer is: No, I don’t want to be a man, I’m a woman. (Just because it has to have a name, but yeah, I prefer to just call myself a human being).

Why do we seperate men and women clothes? Can’t we just wear what fits good and what we like? Why do there have to be different devided sections in stores, or words that label something as ‘men’ or female’?

I never understood why there is this ‘difference’ in sexes. Like why it should matter if someone is a man or a woman, or whatever in between or out. I don’t really see the ‘difference’ between men and women. Everyone is a person to me. I see people in persons. Yeah, of course, I classify too – male/female/something else. But I don’t understand this load of the word, to classify, or to……I’m sorry, I can’t really express myself well here (maybe that’s my lack of English). I just hope you get what I mean to say here.

I don’t even understand why there is a seperate toilet for men and women. I mean come on, in the end what comes out is the same. Then there are these stories about that its dangerous to put them together, because of sexual harrassment and such. But is this really, really happening when you have unisex toilets? Bad people are in every section of the human race. Isn’t this something we try to keep up with media images and stuff like that? Somehow I can’t see or understand this, because I see us all of the same kind. So if you have a different opinion about it, please feel free to share – even if I don’t agree, I’m interested to hear yours about this.Isn’t it just something we tend to keep alive because we are afraid or whatever? I really don’t get it.

And with that other related stuff; sex. A lot of advertisements and things are so focussed on looking beautiful (as in sexy) or sex minded. If you have to believe media and advertisements and series, a lot of guys are out for sex. Are men really that sex-minded? Is it really that all they think about, and that is what drives their lives? Is that why they are ‘dangerous’ and we have to seperate men and women? This part is so difficult to understand for me because I don’t see or feel things this way.

So, back to something that is not the point, I am a human being.
I’m born as a woman, and somehow I always struggle with myself and my appearance. I’m not particularly looking good, female, or sexy, or something else. I’m just me, I guess. I don’t know how to describe myself.

I am probably difficult in relationships – I had very less. And I never cared much about the physical thing, about sex. I could easily live without it. I care more about love in a different way. It’s not that I’m cold, sometimes I like to hug, and cuddle. But I can’t see why sex is so important in a relationship, simply because I don’t feel it. This is a point that I’m afraid makes me maybe weird or what frustrates my partner. I’m in a relationship now , but somehow I feel like I miss something and I can’t give my love what she might need.I know sex is important for her. And that’s something I can rarely ‘give’. I don’t even know if I could call myself asexual. Because I had sex, so I’m not sure if that counts. I just try to understand the world around me in these things, but I can’t really get hold of it.

Maybe it should not matter, but yet, somehow it bothers me. And it bothers me that I can’t exactly express myself the way I want, but I hope you get the meaning of the post. I guess it goes from one thing to another, and it’s not really coherent, but it’s related for me.

With saying that, I appreciate you took the time to read all of this.