I am currently working on making all of the entries of my journal "Friends Only."

If you read my journal and I don't have you listed as a friend, leave a comment on this entry. I'll see about friending you so you can keep reading. =)

I don't want to hurt any feelings, but this is for my protection and the protection of my friends.

Thanks,
Sierra

So. One of the managers at Borders is British. It's so much fun to hear his accent over the radios we all wear. (Earpieces = phantom random voices=headaches and customers thinking you're crazy when you randomly start laughing.)

Today I held the door open for him as he was wheeling boxes to the back and got a "Many thanks, milady." Which sounds totally cool with his accent.

Totally made my day. Thanks goodness it was at the beginning of my shift. (I went in early and worked from 9:50-8:10...blegh.)

It was a good day. Just long. And my legs are killing me. So I bid you all adieu. My bed is calling me.

Well, I now have a job. At Borders. It starts out as a cafe seller, but there are also two supervisor positions open that I'm being considered for. They want to work with me a little bit first and see where I'd fit the best. This week is crazy because it's training 9-6 Mon-Fri. (Today and yesterday I started at 8.) They're switching over from Cafe Borders to Seattle's Best Coffee, so there's a corporate trainer there this week and next, helping everyone learn the new ways of doing things. It's actually really cool because I got a whole history/science lesson on coffee and tea...like did you know that a small cup (8 oz.) of drip coffee has more caffeine than a shot of espresso? (Also, I've had a LOT of coffee the past two days. I'll be hyper for a month.)


Well, I should get to bed. Another long day at work tomorrow. Erin, I promise you'll get the rest of the info on Sam soon. I think I may post again tomorrow night...

For which I apologize. I've been on an emotional roller coaster lately, and it's given me horrendous Writer's Block. As in I have trouble writing my own name...well, not really. But it seems pretty dang close. *grin*

I just finished working a ten hour shift.

The company, Outstanding Productions,  that's linked with my dad's company, Fauxcades, plans parties. Huge corporate parties. As in, the one tonight was for a conference of around 1500-1800 people. There was another on Thursday that I worked, but this one was a much bigger deal. Western theme, going all out.

My job was to set up centerpieces before the party, make sure everything was going well for the things we'd organized during the party, and pack up the centerpieces after the party. There were about 120 centerpieces tonight...40 floral arrangements (which were brought in by an outside source) and at least 80 lit ones on two different bases. My job for setting those up was to put glass marbles into a 7.5" glass candle canister, add a little LED light, then add more marbles. We also had to alternate the two bases and the floral arrangements so that it all looked scattered well...easy and hard at the same time.

The stuff that our company brought in? A mechanical bull, electric dart boards, pool tables, and two photo op stations (wanted posters and cutouts). I got to run around while the party was going, making sure that the guys we were renting the stuff from and paying to run them were doing alright. The mechanical bull guy went through 150 waivers in 2 hours...

It was hard work at the end, picking it all up, but fun. And the decorations that Fauxcades did - a giant cowboy, giant boots, a giant yellow rose, giant etc. - were a big hit.

I really enjoyed the job, even though it was weird to have hours on end where I could sit down for a little while, where I wasn't having to constantly talk to people. I walked a lot, but it was just to keep an eye on things. It wasn't hard. The funniest part was that people began wearing the napkins we'd rented from the linen company - they were designed to look like bandannas. I had to have the DJ make an announcement asking people to please return them to the tables when they were done. If we lost napkins, we'd be charged for them, but I didn't tell people that. ( I was told to keep it light and friendly by Stacey, the woman I answered to.)

And the coolest part of all of this? Not only was I left by myself once the party started (Thursday night, too), but I got a lot of compliments on how once she gave me a task, I just ran with it and left her free to take care of other stuff. Everyone there who was a higher up, including Robert (the owner and family friend), kept telling me how great I was doing and how much they liked my work. Yay!

In the kitchen, and I'm not touching it. =)

But I do have a parrot on my shoulder.

Her name is Nancy, and she's a bit cranky because no one ever plays with her, so I'm taking her under my wing...

That pun was not intended. (And yet I can't bring myself to change it.)

Now all I need is a ship, a crew, and some booty...er, treasure.

And an ocean to put all that in.

*sigh*

Now she's nibbling on my earrings. It tickles and if I laugh, she'll fall off. This is my life.

Let me say now that this is not a cry for attention. I'm not looking for sympathy. I do not want pity. Understanding, yes. Compassion, maybe. I don't need to be saved.

I just need to say this -

I suffer from depression.

I used to say "suffered" because I thought I was past it, but that is no longer true.

It's hard to say if it's purely chemical or emotional or both. I'm leaning towards both.

In high school I counted pills, contemplated hanging, and (briefly) considered slashing my wrists. The thing that held me back was that I didn't want to leave a mess for anyone else to have to clean up.

I did cut myself, looking to feel anything other than the numbing pain inside. I used pins or needles to scratch red lines into my skin so that there was a physical reason for the hurt. Razors and other sharp objects scared me too much to use anything else.

And then I had a few good years.

Before I moved to Montana I began to feel its grip again, suffocating me with panic attacks about being around people, leaving the house. Almost agoraphobic. I stopped trying in classes, just stopped going to some, just shut down. And no one said anything. No one said, "Sierra, what's going on? Are you alright? What can I do?" Some people pushed me, but when I'm pushed, I withdraw even more, so it just made it worse.

Montana made it better for a little while.

Now it's not.

For the past five or so months, I've felt restless, which is a sign of what's coming, but I brushed it aside as my wanderlust.

Two months ago, I began to have darker thoughts crossing my mind, but I still kept thinking I could handle it.

A month ago, I began to long to be carried away from everything. I wanted to cry but couldn't. I wanted to hide from the world, to be left alone. More so than I did in January or February. I'd watch the river currents and imagine jumping in, letting the water carry me away from everything, not struggling, just floating...never before have I even pictured drowning, but now I have. No pills have crossed my mind, none of the other methods have occurred to me. Just that.

Two weeks ago, I cut myself. Three lines on my upper forearm. One with a pin. Two with a razor. Not terribly deep. A really bad cat scratch would do the same. I didn't realize what I was doing, couldn't stop myself until it was over. I was there but I wasn't.

On Tuesday morning I did it again. Not as deep. Two lines with a razor. Almost paper cuts.

Last night I managed to stop myself and call someone instead.

I'm drowning right now. My head is above water, barely, and I'm struggling for the shore, so I'm not giving up, but there's a very strong current here that's pulling at me. And I feel very alone.

I don't want to hear your stories about how you're the same, why you can relate. I don't want commiseration. If you truly can relate, then you will understand why I feel that way. Hugs are usually welcome, but don't be offended if I pull away because I feel too enclosed. I will talk to you about this if you want, but I may not tell you everything. There are only a rare few in this world who will get everything. And they have shown themselves time and again to be trustworthy and understanding.

This was not a cry for help. This was not meant to make you upset or worried. This was me being honest with myself and the world.

For once.

This is driving me nuts. I want to post, I NEED to post...and I can't think of a darn thing.

This is happening every time I try to write anything.

I feel like I'm suffocating on the unwritten words.

And yet I still cannot find what I want to say.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the people who read this to see how I'm doing. I'm sorry for myself because I cannot stand not being able to write anything.

It may be because I'm so emotionally chaotic right now, it may be because the words aren't fully formed yet,
I don't know.

But I'm blocked. Big time.

I'm so stressed that tonight while I was counting down the registers at work, I began to feel my chest grow painfully tight. That was when I realized that I was forgetting to breathe.

When inhaling takes a conscious effort, you know you need a break.

And a backrub. My kingdom for a (good) backrub.

Well, I don't  actually have a kingdom, but name your price. I'm currently taking bids. Any takers?

I'm turning 25 next month.

Apparently, according to popular opinion by people who know me but not my age, without makeup, I look 17/18. With, I look 18/19, occasionally 20.

I wonder if this will last until I hit middle age. If so, cool!


Also, I'm pretty sure I'm moving back towards the middle of the country. Illinois or Texas. It's a toss-up of which right now, but I'm leaning more towards Texas, mostly because I will have a really great support system there, and the job market in the Dallas area is a lot better than Champaign's. My mom and step-dad will be there, my grandparents, my brother...as long as I have my mom's side, I can handle my dad's side's crap.

I'm still thinking, though. But my mom and my dad both think I should go back down there and (my mom thinks) go to UTA.

Say some prayers for my peace of mind, please. And for me to make the right decision.

So...

I'm still sick. Coughing and sniffling...I hate not being able to breathe. I really should be resting in bed for a couple more days, but I have to work so I can eat and buy medicine...I wake up in the morning feeling a lot better, but by the end of the day, I'm coughing and tired again.

I have Sunday and Monday off, though, so I can rest all day Sunday, run two (absolutely necessary) errands on Monday, then come home and sleep.

I hope you all are feeling well.