I Ain’t Afraid to Ghost
How do you begin an explanation? Is it similar to how you begin an apology? Does it start with groveling or just a statement of the facts? I’m ill equipped at these types of things so I never know what to do.
As you may or may not have noticed, there has been a huge absence in posting here at Conjure and Coffee. So much so, the domain had lapsed and my plan with WordPress had expired. Life did that thing that Dr. Malcolm talked about in Jurassic Park and found a way.
It just happened that the way it found cut the fat and removed the things that I enjoyed doing from the hours in the day. In their place, I fell into a job that became both an identity and a sacrifice. I found friends and I found myself. I managed to lose both, over and over, and learn how to reevaluate myself and my abilities.
That was all while balancing home life too. Everything that ever was was then domestically multiplied tenfold. All the weight I had normally carried, I had to fit into those hours I wasn’t clocked in or asleep.
And oh, yeah, the world stopped and a pandemic happened. So you know, easy peasy, lemon squeezey.
Or difficult, difficult, FUCKING DIFFICULT.
So of all the things I had to cut from my life, writing had to be one of them. And I missed it. I missed it badly. I realized I missed it when I realized one day after pulling into a parking spot and looking at the doors I was expected to enter for another 8 plus hour shift of doom, I wasn’t sure who I was anymore. I was filling the status for the person I was needed and expected to be, but I wasn’t…me.
And I hadn’t been me, honestly, truthfully in a long time. Every time I had been, I had been regulated into “appropriate” behavior. The customer service world is very different than real life, and after a while that mask you are expected to wear is the one you feel you always do. So when the cracks that showed my true self were starting to be listed as “problem” areas, I knew that things needed to change. I even shifted functions in the job in hopes that would make things better.
It allowed me to make some wonderful friends. Friends that I would have never gotten to attach myself to, but it didn’t shake the feeling that the walls of the company were squeezing me, the real me, too flat.
The camel’s back was in brace when I erupted in an office at a manager for being told not to use “that” type language. At that point, while screaming and yelling, my true self broke through.
Every bit of me was there.
The bits of me I had hidden even from myself.
My dead fathers stutter.
My teenage self’s obsession with four letter words.
My amazing ability to cut a late 90s wrestling promo and toss things around.
I had returned. And I missed me.
So I ended up leaving that job not long after. And while it made me essential (in the weakest, customer service sense), it had also made me invisible.
Like a ghost.
And now I’m done haunting. I’m ready to live as me again.
While I’m not afraid to ghost out and while I don’t feel much shame for doing it (Ok, who am I joking? I feel shame for a lot of things I don’t cause, lol) I don’t want to live in the in between anymore. I don’t want to be that part player that forgot she could be the main character.
I’ll dip out when I need to, but really, truely? I want to be here. I want to be me. And I want not to have to wear a mask anymore.
Ok, that might not have been the best metaphor. Wear your mask and I’ll wear mine. But I want to get back to who I was, who I am.
So, hi, I’m Angela.
This is me.
And this is Conjure and Coffee.
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