I've written here, a lot, about the emotions one goes through while unemployed. I've written a lot about how looking for a job and looking for a man are both emotionally draining. Perhaps, gentle readers, I've written too much or too personally or divulged too much ... but this is a hard time in a gal's life, dear ones.
I've always been a girl who wears her heart on her sleeve. An old friend told me recently that was why it gets fractured so easily. And when I speak about its fracturing, I don't just mean the men in my life - the guys that I have dated, the ones who I perceive to have done me wrong. I mean friends, too. I know that not everyone will like me. I don't like everyone and it would be silly to expect others to have a different view. But sometimes ... you find out that someone really dislikes you. And you don't know why. And, though you may have suspected it here and there, to have the fact confirmed by others ... it's painful. Especially when it's someone in your circle, who you see often, who you have to see if you want to keep hanging out with your friends. Because we're all adults here. And you wouldn't want to make anyone choose. But they choose. They choose all on their own. The Friday nights when your phone calls to hang out are not returned. The brunches you're not invited to. And you find out who was there later and you guess why no one called you back. Why you were not wanted.
And, perhaps, if things were better in the other parts of your life - if you could get a job (or even an interview!), if any of the guys you've been going on a million first dates with would stick - then maybe this slight would not feel so painful. But it's hard to be unemployed (and it's hard to be single, especially when no one else is). You need a support system. And when one of the pieces (perceived or otherwise) is so unkind ... it's hard for your whole structure to stay standing.
I had one of those tumbles last night. After a pretty nice day - friends I believe to be my friends, movie watching, wine drinking - I had a suspicion confirmed ... and I fell apart. Because, right now, dear readers, I am only held together with little bits of scotch tape and a pasted on smile.