birthdays, tears, work, and stuff

My last blog post on here was way back in October. I haven't blogged pretty much because anything I blog about would be depressing. However, I have been really down lately, and figure it might do me some good to blog about it instead of bottling it up.

I had a bad night at work. Scratch that... two bad nights at work, separated by one great day off.

I came home last night from work, ate a sandwich, changed clothes, then laid down on my bed and cried. And cried again when I finally actually went to bed.

Work sucked...... a lot to do, and had a few messes: broken BBQ sauce, an energy drink that exploded, and a few cans of pop that leaked.

It started before that. I have never worked Sundays. I don't believe Christians should, but I had such a hard time finding work, I took the job I have hoping I wouldn't have to work many. The owner even told me since I am stock, I probably wouldn't work many week-ends (I recently told my manager that and she just said that he said a lot of things when the store opened). I soon found myself working every other Sunday, and was having a hard time getting to work at 1pm after going to church and eating lunch. I asked the manager at the time if he could schedule me one half hour later on Sundays (1:30) if I had to work them, to give me a little extra time. He said no problem, and that was how it stayed, til he left last September.

New manager, my supposed friend who already worked there. She started scheduling me at 12:30. A lot of Sundays we don't even finish eating til 1. I talked to her and she made it 1:15. I wasn't happy, but it was better than 1....... and then this schedule came out. I am on for 1 again tomorrow. She said she did that so the owner wouldn't say anything, and to get there when I can...... but if he is there and I show up after 1, then what?

I COULD make it easily if I skip lunch, but should I have to? I am already being forced to work Sundays and violate my beliefs and conscience.... is it that much to ask to schedule me a little later? If I had another job I worked on Sundays, they would have to work around it?

I really feel like giving notice and quitting - I need to get out of there anyway, but it could mess up my vacation I am taking early next month with family.

And granted, God is a million miles away and I am not even trying to serve Him, but the last time I gave up was when I had to start working Sundays. I had prayed and prayed and tried so hard to find a job with no Sunday work, that it shook my already weak faith to the point that I gave up. Sounds dumb, but my relationship with God has always been shaky at best.

This new development was just the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. It isn't the reason I came home and cried, the reason I looked at the pill I take to help me sleep and wish I could take the whole bottle (I'm not dumb enough to do that) - but it was one of the reasons.

I am turning 43 later this month. Forty was bad..... hit me hard. I feel like such a failure. I have never had a very good job - I have no confidence in what I can do and have always gotten low-paying, minimum wage jobs so I wouldn't fail, and here I am 43, never having anything different than those kind of jobs. Now its 3 years later, and nothing has changed. I feel like more of a failure than ever before.

In addition, next month is an anniversary....... 4 years since I moved back from out of state where I had lived for a couple of years. Four years of my stuff has been in storage while I live in my parents' basement, under their thumb. Some days I feel like my spirit is just crushed. There are places I'd like to go, some days I just want to be alone, but they don't get that and have to know where I am and why and what I am doing....... they won't let me be an adult, and ever since they found out I am gay, they always suspect me of being up to no good. So what if I am.......... I am 43, not 10, and it does no good to bring it up.

And then there is loneliness. I need companionship, friends, and really have none. Oh, my pastor meets me for donuts and a chat once or twice a year, and my Sunday School teacher meets me when he can, but I have no single friends to hang out with. My best friend is 400 mile away, and I get to see him 1-2 times a year. I still wish I could marry and have kids, but that's as likely as my becoming a multi-millionaire overnight. Maybe less likely.

And there is God........ I don't think I have ever been this  bad spiritually. My view of Him has steadily gotten worse. I have prayed for Him to help me believe - believe that I matter to Him and that He loves me, prayed for hope. But even as I pray that, I figure there is no use. If God did ever love me, He doesn't anymore.

As I near birthday #43, I find myself wondering on a regular basis, is this all there is? Is life worth living? It doesn't seem like it is, but there are no other options to keep living, if this is living. Its more existing than living.

I guess if I could sum it all up in one word, it would be trapped. I feel trapped with no visible way out.

Sound like self-pity? Maybe, but also disillusionment, hopelessness, and more.

So that is why I cry.