Hopes are dashed disappointed merging with depression:

Apparently, they only called to say that they,

“like” me, but not enough to actually “hire” me.

Whipee! I have gotten my fair share of phone calls,

that fall into this category.

She wanted to keep my application on file for future

reference-(so they reject me again? oh boy!) Sure is how I answered.

She also wanted to pass my application along,

to other agencies that they work with-

Sure, great, I said-

as I could feel my brain on meltdown,

the feeling of dread…nobody ever is going to hire me?

wth?

As much, as i try to remain focused and positive,

I keep getting massive and multiple rejections,

at each and every fork in the world…

 

At the end of our conversation, she could not wait

to tell me what an “awesome artist” I am.

Very talented. Not everybody is so lucky.

as an art therapist, i really disregarded, the compliment.

 

I felt literally-and still feel-that that is total bullshit.

I did not verbally say that to her,

instead I explained as an Art therapist, I believe that

Everybody has the power to make art- all it takes is practice.

 

No, no, no she assured me, “You have a Gift.”

 

Well yes, I do. I have the gift of never finding a damn job…

I’ve been looking over 18 months.

I am either OVER-qualified OR UNDER-qualify.

 

I can never get it right.

Getting so frustrated,

just wanna give up this dumb fight.

 

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Earth Day Kick off event-

Today I attended a Earth day kick-off event at an Open Art Therapy Studio about a 30 min drive away.

We painted with Moss. It was definitely something I never tried before. I got to see some of my old art therapy friends from school. One, of them asked about my books I’ve been selling. (just in case something like that happened, I had a copy of ALL my books except the one published two days ago.) I showed my friend. And we were talking about my bipolar disorder. A great deal of her younger clients have been diagnosed with bipolar. She had read a good book I had mentioned to her called “Half-way House.” I shyly mentioned that I too, had just written a memoir -personal account of living with bipolar-I had a copy with me, and she was totally digging it, so I offered to sell it to her right on the spot. That worked out awesome for us both-she did not have to wait until it arrived in the mail- and I got a bigger amount as an author.

I don’t know, it was a pretty good day I guess. I have been trying to get this art studio to offer me a job, for several months now. Since, they were in the middle of a workshop they really did not want to talk about that today. That sorta bummed me out. But as my one friend talked to me about my illness, my other friend who already works at the studio, asked if i would mind talking about it to their clients? I was actually initially attempting to “downplay” that issue. (which is hard because it is a huge part of what makes me, ME.)

By the end, I was feeling hungry, frustrated and a bit depressed. When I was saying goodbye to the owner, I casually mentioned my “disability”-she asked about it-so what the hell? I just told her.This seemed a smart move, because she expressed more interest in me after that, she said she knew a lot of people in recovery as adults were SMI-(seriously mentally ill)

but not too many who were Art Therapists too! So maybe, things will turn around. I am ever so hopeful. Because, in the end that is all we have to hang onto-our hopes and our dreams-without those? You are so lost….they are like a magical compass-your hopes and dreams tell you which direction to go.Earth day drawing1earth day drawing 1

it’s hard for a girl in this town to make some $$$

I have been searching for work now for almost a year, with no success.
Today, was a great day, the sort of day that started out slowly with no surprises, an ordinary day. Then I fell back asleep and when i awoke i had the most beautiful voicemail on my cellphone about a possible job offer. (I always turn it off when i sleep or nap, because when i first wake up i do not know my left from my right, am very groggy, and incapable of showing much interest.caffiene is thus required and freshly applied like a bandage.)

The voicemail was about possible adjunt work in an Open Art Therapy Studio-literally my dream job. Then about 3 hours later, i recieved a second phone call about my second dream job-becoming a peer support person.

Both are very tenative offers. One is for a non-profit, so it depends on funding. The other is organized through the county community mental health department. Peer support speacilists is a growing industry, as more health insurance companies are requesting it as a part of the treatment process. To qualify you must have a mental illness or disorder or a drug or alcohol addiction and be in recovery. Also you must be willing to share your personal story to folks newly diagnosed and likely very overwhelmed or scared. Strangely enough, this positions pay very high, above min wage, in my state some start at around 15-18$ per hour but it is only part time. And i am in the usa. So if you are overseasi do not know if this type of job exsist.

If you are qualified, and in one o the 50 states, i urge you to apply. Too few people know that these jobs are out there. And, it seems pretty easy too, you just help others go through what your own story has taught you.

the job interviews

frantic fingers falling through my hair,

as i politely stare, into the abyss of nothingness.

am i dressed alright? Is this skirt too tight? Am I here too early?

Am I late?

The smiles which devour me whole, as i of course, as i

shake your hand-(always shake their hand-good grip nice and tight but solid)

frantic fingers falling through my hair.

(do i have lip-stick on my teeth-ugh-too late)

They fire their questions, uzi-style, rapid-fire and

often they ask me questions i totally do not know,

like how much i would like to make an hour-that one i fall down often enough,

because then they give the real answer of how much they will pay.

Questions too, like do i mind if a client becomes violent?

Gee-whiz no-who would mind that?

there often seems to be a hidden cheat sheet-multiple choice=always choose C.

If i sound bitter, i am not, i am just a bit broken and wore out.

Nobody seems excited to meet me, instead they are looking

for a sense of urgent perfection, i cannot measure up to.

So yes, frantic, fingers falling through my hair,

as i try to not fuss, fidget or wiggle,

Knowing I probably won’t make the cut,

my dial is always stuck on

self-destruct.

crying and ripped fresh like an open cut

I cannot believe,

how much it costs to have a root canal & i even am on my husbands insurance.

But none of that matters,

i’ve been told it only covers up to 50%, for a root canal, on a single tooth,

leaving a remaining balance of nearly $500, which is almost my entire SSDI check for next month.

My husband works, & works very hard, & makes above the min wage.

But we live basically paycheck to paycheck, nothing ever extra, no kinda savings/

only debt, debt, debt and more bills onto on that shit like,

a sundae with the cherry, on top.

WTF? How do people live like this? A root canal,

for only one single tooth, runs $1120.00, am i missing something?

Are you going to gold-plate the thing for free?

It just so happens, to be my anchor tooth, the one my partials sit on.

without it, i would need new partials a hell of a lot of fixodent, some paperclips and

of course scotch tape.

After all the phone calls, I made today, trying to see if somebody,

could recommend somebody I could afford to help me,

I simply collapsed, concave, into a pile of hysterical tears./ funny thing is/

crying did not make me feel any better/only like/crying some more/a leaky tire/has no air/

and really Damnit i don’t care./ i just wish my husband/was here/to hold me./to tell me/

everythings ok/ even if we are not the richest of the rich/ or the poorest of the poor/

somehow money just don’t matter/anymore./

im sick & tired of being sick & tired, and i think the first person to say that phrase/

was the Late Great/Ms.Rosa Parks.