I lay in bed and think of the woman I’ve become and all the girls I used to be. I feel as if I have evolved and changed so many times it’s hard to keep track. I think about the girl I used to be in my 20s. Sprinting towards the next experience, often tripping and falling over my own feelings and often the casualties of others. I think about the passion with which I loved and how that was so much of my truth. Often at the expense of others. While I don’t want to discredit those feelings of love, in hindsight it’s hard to argue that pursuit of those feelings were worth the collateral damage they left behind. Hindsight;

For so long I felt overwhelming unable to control my emotions. The depths that which I felt pain. No one has anything better to say than don’t take it so personal, as if that’s not the exact issue itself. If hostility is aimed at me how am I not supposed to take it personal? Additionally the general denial that people’s vitriol is acceptable to take out on a coworker or stranger, that I should just accept that people will be hurtful. That they should not take any accountability for their hostility and verbal abuse. That they were in the wrong was never a consideration.

This is so much the crux of societal expectations. It starts in school. You should just learn to keep a stiff upper lip. Bullying is always going to happen. Learn to brush it off. It carries over into adulthood into the workplace. The same bullies, the same expectation in customer service across the board, that you should be able to handle verbal assault from managers, coworkers and customers. The toxic culture of the customer is always right and insubordination should you question your management.

How does an empath crybaby succeed in such a world?

Suffice it say that I didn’t

Carrie Fisher made a joke about being bipolar once.

Being bipolar means your great at getting jobs, not so great at keeping them.

I bounced from workplace to workplace. Interviewing was a breeze. Smile, talk about being a team player. When I was high I could do anything. Working with peers however, was the more pressing struggle.

I career hopped, I lived off of less than 10k a year for pretty much all of my 20s, excluding the two traumatic years I worked at Trader Joe’s. Those years I cashed 35k. Still a pittance in the state of CA.

Throughout my entire adulthood and thanks to the resources available in the state of CA despite being lower income there I was always in therapy and had a psychiatrist. Often for only a year at a time as many of them were students at the local university getting their fieldwork done.

But for sake of my mental health I’ve always had a team to help me through all the struggles of barely existing within capitalism. Which is so much more than most Americans.

The continual pursuit to understanding my brain and how to trick it into functioning in a way that is productive to a career that didn’t suck my soul. How in the hell do I make money and take care of myself? I won’t always have my mother to spot me cash for when I run out. Bless her heart for the repetitive ‘you need to keep a checkbook’ that she never failed to repeat every time my account overdrew and I needed another 20, 50, 100 dollars.

After attempting several careers attempts I had at least learned the things I cannot do. I was learning by process of elimination is no other way.

I can’t do a physically strenuous job. Exhaustion tips me into depression. I can’t do front facing, customer service. Being happy and ‘on’ all the time will eventually lead to a dip in serotonin thus; depression. Customer Service is also a position that customers like to verbally abuse. That vitriol put me into tears. So that’s out. Anything repetitive leaves my mind idle. My idle mind reverts to depressed thoughts. That ruled out theater, any job that required driving a ton.

I am happiest when being creative. However the ability to pursue any of my most passionate interests had hurdles of either needing money to finance the startup or organization that my brain was able to handle yet.

The thing with a neurodivergent mind is that many tasks are impossible to wrap your head around when there are other stressors in your life. Until I figure out how to live and feed myself I can’t think about another thing. Neurodivergency means handling one thing at a time.

So what type of job did I need. I’m good at completing a task. I am very personable one on one. People typically like me. I don’t play with others as others inevitably have a problem with me. Through no fault of my own I am not really a good team player.

I had been thinking about pursuing cosmetology, It’s a service you provide to one client. No other people to work with. It’s a task so not too monotonous. No idle time to let me mind wander to the dark side. A reasonable income. I had held off on it because cosmetology school was expensive and I was reluctant to add more student loans to my debt. Once an affordable opportunity at a local city college appeared, I jumped at it.

I didn’t have the 1300 to pay for the program. I have my ex to thank for that. I finished cosmetology school. I have been working for two years now and finally have been taking care of myself, rent, food, fun. I am finally making big girl money.

I also found that the I can handle triggers without responding so emotionally distraught. While I don’t want to discredit all the work I put into therapy on controlling my emotions some of does feel like the dust settling in my brain. It’s not so chaotic in there anymore.

Of all the girls I was I am now a woman with much more control on her life and situation. And now that I am settled taking care of myself I finally have time to consider do I want to pursue a more creative and lucrative career?

Now I can think about dreams