When I first started this blog, I told you all about my parents and myself. I told you about my children, my wife, my job, etc.
Lately I have been loathe to talk about it. I don't know if it's just that everything that has gone on this year is scary for me, or if it is my continual reluctance to journal my feelings. I have always hated doing this, for me it seems to make things more real. As though I can ignore the issues if I just don't write them down.
I am happy right now, happier than I have been in years in certain parts of my life. The part of my life I consider to be real has changed. I used to view my job as the thing that I could count on for sanity and stability, stop it... yes I know I work in a prison!! It was always the stabilizing factor, always there, never changing.
In the last three months things have changed, first with the cancer scare, then with my mother, then with my job.
I don't think I mentioned anywhere that Mama is now living down here near us, and working here too. I love being able to see her almost every day. I love that my brother is home. I love the acceptance they have shown Crys and me. It saddens me that it took 4 1/2 years to find this acceptance, but overall I am happy to have it.
The job...ahhh, the job. When I took this job I naively felt that I could supervise anyone. OMG, I was so wrong. Also, I believed when I was promoted that it was their way of saying they believed in my ability to do the job. Now, I'm not so sure. After 7 months I sometimes feel that they just needed a body to fill a spot, and I was the only one they could find. I hate that. I hate losing my confidence in my ability to do the job and make the right decisions. I don't know why I feel this way.
You know what I've learned though? The job does not define me. It is the thing that I have to go do so I can live the rest of my life!! Not that I am consistantly unhappy there, but on the days when I am I think "It's okay, I get to go home and live my real life in 8 hours." I don't know when or why it became important to me to seperate myself from corrections, but I am glad that I have. It makes it easier for me to let it all go as soon as I step out the front door.
Have you ever felt this way??
Eight Is Enough
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