To say this week has been absolutely horrible would be a dramatic understatement. This week has been worse than absolutely horrible. So horrible I wish I could up and end it but I have commitments to honor so I can’t exactly do that (notably attending the tattoo convention this weekend and ringing for a wedding in a couple of weeks).
This week got off to a horrible start when a coworker whom I have grown really close to was laid off on Monday. It always made work a tad bit more bearable having her across the hall to chat with and interact with and now she’s gone for the biggest bullshit reason ever (her position was transferred and instead of offering her a transfer they hired someone else and laid her off). Granted, even in that situation she wouldn’t have been here anymore but I could have taken it a little better. I hate seeing my friends get fucked over and I seriously suspect there was some disability discrimination going on in that decision (she has like 70% hearing loss due to having recurring ear infections as an infant/toddler). Hopefully I can help her uncover evidence to that effect.
Alas, the worse implication to this is wondering if/when I’m going to be made redundant and/or my position moved to the new office. Seeing as how I suspect disability discrimination, I know it could just as easily happen to me. I have a feeling it’s coming soon but I don’t know when. My only saving grace is that in a layoff situation I’ll at leave have unemployment insurance, but that only lasts so long and should I take a job and be terminated within a couple of weeks because it just didn’t work out (something that’s happened countless times in my past because so many don’t know how to deal with those on the autism spectrum) then I’ll REALLY be fucked.
Then my past two days have been eaten up with mundane, mind-numbing tasks that, although important to the operation of the company and the satellite office I work in, are just not engaging for me. It makes for a very long, boring day. That combined with the above bullshit and I’m quickly and uncontrollably spiraling back into depression.
I just don’t know anymore. Part of me says to hang on but the other part of me says to just call this thing called “life” quits. I go back and forth between pushing on or bowing out, never knowing what the proper solution is. When in doubt I suppose I should stick around, because I can always choose to pull the plug later, but if I pull the plug prematurely there’s no undoing that action.
All I know is I long to feel the sweet sting of the tattoo machine etching the flower and insignia into my calf. The physical pain is a distraction from the emotional anguish of everyday life. To put it in the words of John Mellencamp, it “hurts so good.” It is very therapeutic. They don’t call it “ink therapy” for nothing.