THE PITS

Why do not feel alright? I AM happy. But sometimes during the day I am suddenly jolted by the realization that something's missing. Yes yes yes yes. I'm griping about my life. Forgive me. I don't have money for a psychiatrist. I honestly think I'm borderline.

I think this mini-anxiety attack is triggered by the fact that I am presently jobless. Coupled with that is the fact that I recently demanded from my mom to the highest level that I could (meaning we had a fight) that I be given independence. Actually, I'm just thinking she understood it as independence. My exact words were "I want to be given the chance to define my life."

After that argument (which had to happen on my birthday, yey), I sensed that she backed off a bit. Or maybe just ignored me out of spite. Either way, I felt a certain aloneness. I asked for it, and I got it. It felt quite strange to say the least.

Anyway, since by all normal accounts a job is a very concrete measure of independence, I'm quite scared as well, seeing that I obviously have none. And if I should consider a job my ultimate yardstick (good thing I don't, not completely), this "defining life" shit is certainly backfiring, because truthfully, I'm STILL not sure what kind of specific job I would like to have.

Back to square one.

Very scary. Extremely painful.

I texted Rhea last night and asked her plainly, "masaya ka ba?" I wanted to find out, among other things, if stability is cause for happiness. It is not. I knew that already, I guess.

Haaaaaaay. I think one problem that is my fault completely, is that I am not looking as hard as I probably should. I'm not the type who walks down Ayala Avenue with copies of my CV and an umbrella, like my friends used to do (and bless them because they have jobs now). Either I'm too confident or I'm too afraid of rejection. I think it's the latter. Things had come too easy in the past, and now that they are not, I feel helpless.

I don't want to go back to my old life. How many times have I said this? This time I mean it. No more of the familiar, comfortable life I used to have, where lunches were signed for and I got what I wanted because I had my ID and I knew people (damn I sound like friggin Celine). I knew what power meant, but not from reading 48 Laws. I just knew. I saw both its beauty and brutality. And I've been running away since.

But at the same time I've been holding on. This I've come to realize, and I have to be honest with myself, otherwise I can't truly move on. Len was right when she said "wala ka naman ata talaga problema" at the time that I was telling them I wanted to leave but couldn't (during the first few weeks that I returned to my old job--which I've now left again, for the second time). Because if I wanted to leave then, I would have done so in an instant. But it felt so familiar, so natural. Instinctive. It was the best and the worst kind of fallback for a person like me.

But enough now. Enough. Truly, enough.

Maybe I do need this. I need to be scared. I need to not be on top of the game. I need to feel lost. I need to feel powerless.