:’) 7/7

I’m feeling very tender.

A few of my recent behaviors and outbursts have been misplaced. I am frustrated. Truthfully, being without a job, a purpose, a “something” to show has been humbling. I am fairly confident that my way with words, my storytelling, my sentiments, and my empathy are all leading me toward purpose. But sentiments, as of now, do not pay the bills.

My parents are extraordinary. But when my Mom mentioned paying the money back, I snapped- biting the hand that hasn’t just fed me, but that has extended support, patience, and unconditional love. I felt a defensiveness that I’ve grown accustomed to. A self-consciousness. It’s something I was working on with my therapist before I lost my job and my health insurance. Regardless, it was a childish, knee-jerk response to a statement that billions of children would die to hear… literally.

I feel somewhat of a broken spirit. I’m insecure because I’ve never made as much money as my friends, even at the height of my radio career. I had clout and I have experiences, but I was DJing random weddings to barely get by. I wouldn’t change a thing, but when I FINALLY landed a spot On-Air, the billionaires decided that my $15/hr. was too much for them to bear. A weeping scream into a mountain of suits and ties who wouldn’t piss on us if we were on fire. Such is the reality of many of my colleagues and friends in radio. I’ll get more into that another evening.

A lot of my friends are married, some with children. I am resentful because the person that I want to be “my person” has caused me anguish. Yet I root for us. I believe in seeing it through because you see the good in someone. I get grief for it because I’ve sacrificed a lot for the sake of hope. If you want, you can sue me.

I’m celebrating “good days” as ones where I don’t drink or when I’m able to network or see one of my friends. “Networking” can sometimes be saying “thank you” to the older gentleman ringing up my Goldfish crackers. Depression sneaks up on you! And when you don’t have a job, a charming new relationship, or the thrill of being in your 20’s to distract you, you find a lot of time on your hands.

Make no mistake- I am afforded the time to lament. To reflect. To feel a little sorry for myself as if I wasn’t throwing a hissy fit in my parent’s pool some 30 hours ago.

But there’s a reason Mom & Dad have a pool. They worked. When they asked my Dad why he didn’t use his “sick days” (which equated to over a year), he said, “I wasn’t sick.” He said it with the smart-ass grin that I wish to bestow on colleagues for years to come. While I am invaluably lucky, I am ready for honest work. Financially, healthfully, mentally… I want to feel proud of myself.

I’ve mentioned this in my podcast (listen to “Off The Hook with Bobby G,” by the way!), but when we were growing up we weren’t allowed to raise our voices at each other. So I’m very close with my siblings and we do not take that for granted. Amanda and I get snippy, but nothing beyond normal best friend shit. I’m setting a manifestation right now, in this post, to calm down. To let my dignity, empathy and talent, come to the surface.

Mom, I am sorry. I love you

♡ BG