Posts Tagged ‘stress’

Project Save My Face

When I was in the fourth grade I was already embarrassingly hideous. I wore big coke can glasses, had blunt bangs, a perm and was still wearing what my mother picked out for me. I didn’t really need anything else to contribute to my ugliness. However, mother nature had other plans for me. I awoke one day to find myself with a zit. Okay. No biggie. Then I found another. Then another. Soon I looked like a walking pepperoni pizza. This was a really traumatic experience for me, and apparently my mother. So fast forward years from that tragic stage of life…I’ve been blemish free and have found bliss. Well until now.

At my age I didn’t think I would ever have to think about acne again. Seriously, there’s a time and place for everything, and the zit ship should have sailed off a long ass time ago. Again, mother nature has other plans for me. While my husband has to consider creams to prevent wrinkles, I get to enjoy looking like a teenager going through puberty all over again! Joy. Wasn’t once enough? Ah, cruel world.

This all started in the last year…what could have done this to me? Oh, well gee, let’s see. I changed jobs. Then we moved. Then I got a new job. Then I was stressed from my job. Then I was depressed. Then I got on medication. Then I quit my job. Then I was unemployed. Then I gave up meat. Then I gave up milk. Then I gave up soy. Then I reentered milk. Then I started a new job. Then I went back to school. Oh gee. What could have stirred up my acne? Oh, yes, everything.

Now I am happy, stress free and still have a full face of acne to show for it. Super! At first I thought my face would slowly regenerate on it’s own since the stress of my mind and also my diet were finally settling down. I was optimistic and certain that I would stop breaking out. I was also positive that my skin regime was the best I could do. Time will heal my skin. Patience will be rewarded. Um, yeah, great optimistic thoughts, but no my wishes weren’t granted. I am still siting here wondering how I can peel the top layer of my skin off without access to chemical acid. I have decided not going to Target in fear of someone gawking at my pizza face is no way to live. I need to get my face back. Enter, Project Save My Face.

Goals of this project:
1. To stop waking up each morning to find that once again I am breaking out to a new batch of humiliation.
2. To control and shrink the monsters already residing on my face.
3. To treat and rid of the scars my blemishes want to leave behind to haunt me for the rest of my life.
Changes that must be made:
1. I will stop being a lazy mofo. I will strive to wash my face 2x a day.
2. I will stop touching my face unnecessarily and stop picking at it.
3. I will make it a habit to change my pillowcases regularly.
4. If my hair has any residue in it, it needs to be washed before it can reach my skin.
5. I need to up my water intake.
6. I need to up my fruit/veggie intake and lower my carb/dairy intake.
7. I will forgo makeup to let my skin ‘breathe.’
8. I will try to always get 7-8 hours of sleep a night.
Expectations: To once again allow pictures of me to be taken.

Here I go on Project Save My Face. Let’s see if I can do it myself before I need to enlist the help of a dermatologist! And, damn, here’s to embarrassing truths! Cheers!


Advertisements

Priority #1? Happiness.

About 5 months ago I couldn’t have told you anything that I can tell you now. Right now I can tell you that I’m going to grad school and getting my Masters. I can tell you that I love my job. I can tell you that I can’t wait to be a teacher. I can honestly say I feel stress, oh, only about 10% of the time. Overall, I am a rather happy, satisfied and optimistic person.

About 5 months ago I could have told you that I hated my job. I had no idea where my future was going. I was confused. I was depressed. I was stressed 80% of the time. Why the huge difference you ask? Well let me rewind…

About 5 months ago I was working at a well known corporation, who has a great reputation, and is doing fairly well for our times. I was psyched when I got offered this position and couldn’t wait to begin my new career. I had originally gone to school for business because I had rather big (and rather shallow) goals for myself. I wanted to be a boss. I wanted to manage because it was my way or the highway (I’m a tad bossy, says my husband). And the worse part of my dream? I wanted to make lots of molla. I wanted to make the greens. I had a brief stint after my first 2 years of college and was playing with the idea of teaching instead, but quickly talked myself out of it. Teachers don’t make any money. Pfth! See? I told you my goals were shallow. Anyways, getting this job was perfect to me. I had high hopes. I was planning on working my way up the corporate ladder and stay with this company for many years in the foreseen future. I was getting a nice paycheck, fabulous benefits, and felt respected.  Finally I had my “grown up job.” This high was quickly deflated when I actually started working.

Working consisted of sitting at my “desk” (aka cubicle), pretending I was busy, kissing ass, following a million procedures-doing a million of them wrong-then fixing them to fit regulations before I got written up, making phone calls after phone calls, and emailing half of the day. It also consisted of meetings with my manager on a daily basis that I seriously had no idea how it was contributing to really any results. Don’t get me wrong…I wasn’t hating on my job because I was failing at it. I was doing great. Top numbers, great results, happy clients, the whole nine yards. However, doing “great” had it’s tolls. Everyday I would come home completely worn out, irritated, stressed and worried about the next day. How was I going to perform tomorrow? Where and how was I going to get my day’s numbers? Who am I meeting with? How many meetings do I have? I wanted to pull my hair out every single night. My poor husband had to listen to me bitch and rant until bedtime, and even then, it didn’t stop. I was loosing sleep from laying there awake with my mind racing about going to work the next morning. I even called my parents and told them, and I never do that. Admit defeat to my father? Yeah right. So this must have been bad!

Then in the morning after my fabulous nights sleep filled with nightmares about work, I would put on my suit…and wanted to shoot myself. It gets worse. I am not exaggerating (and I swear on my future baby’s life) that when I reached the street my office was on, I wanted to throw up. I had to swallow chunks back. ( I know, TMI, sorry.) Not only throw up but possibly get into a car accident so that I could miss work. Oh how wonderful would it be if someone crashed into me? I bet I could get a couple weeks off! I would even find myself cursing and whining all the way into the office like a child even though there was no one there to listen to me.

Each day I’d greet my work bestie and cubicle neighbor R, and give him the look. The look that says “Please kill me. Or punch me. Or anything to put me out of my misery.” I love R. He was one of the only reasons why I didn’t get suicidal. We would email each other back and forth during the day with smiley faces and dumb jokes to lighten up hell.

“R, do you feel like we are living ‘Office Space?” I asked him one day.
“YES. Everyday!”
I only nodded. We didn’t need to tell each other about our miseries…we both already knew them. Finally it hit me I couldn’t do this anymore. Life is way too short for this BS!
“R, I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“Me neither, but what are we going to do?” R shrugged. Get the F out of here is what we’re going to do! I thought.
“Shit. I don’t even really like what I’m doing much less the company. I don’t even really like people!” I started thinking out loud. “I like kids. Damn it. I should have been a teacher.” Long pause. “I think I’m going to do something about it.”
“Like what?” R was half encouraging and half thinking I was looney tunes.
“Hmm. I don’t know yet. I’ll tell you when I know.” And I instantly went to my desk to do some “work.” My work? I went online to search up new jobs. I cruised the internet and started reading about graduate schools, different programs, and careers that are looking’ good in the future. I think I did this for a week. (Shh. I know. Bad bad employee.)

I seriously felt like I was having a quarter life crisis. After getting my undergrad done, my resume built up, my “dream job”…was this all that was left? Was this it? I enlisted the help, advice and opinions of all around me and came to a conclusion.

“R, I’m going back to school, and I’m going to teach kids!” I proclaimed to R the day I made up my mind. I was happier than ever. I was getting out of that place once in for all.
“Seriously?!” Yes he totally thought I was nuts. I was a business major. A former manager. A current private sector employee. What the hell was this person doing about to change her life?
“Yeah. I’m not happy. And I’m not going to stay unhappy forever.” I was sure. I already knew the things I would be loosing…my awesome benefit packages, my fat paychecks, my cute business cards…but really, enough was enough. I wasn’t going to make the mistake of going through the rest of my life wishing I had done something else. So that was that. I quit shortly after, on the spot (to boot!) and have never been happier.

I got judged immediately from what feels like thousands of people.
“Are you sure? But you are such a business woman!” – My mother.
“What are you thinking? Quitting a good job in this economy?” -From my lovely brother in law. Gag.
“You want to start over?”
“You know you’re not going to be getting paid as much.” – My (former) boss! Hah.
“This is sort of a hard time to be making such rash decisions.”
Blah blah blah. Life is too short to be unhappy people. Money, yes we need it, but it doesn’t and shouldn’t rule us. Happiness on the other hand I wouldn’t mind being ruled over. So I stuck to my guns and left. I’m now happily watching kids, making more money, happily a student once more, and prepared to finally do what I’ve always wanted. Money no longer looks like the best option to me, and even though I spent years studying the art of running a business, and how to direct people I don’t see any of that time as a waste. I will someday run a classroom and direct children, so in the end all my education was worth it.

To my bestie R…he’s still there today biting his nails and working his little tush off. His numbers are now the best in the office and he’s getting his well deserved recognition. But I still hope he ends up finding what he really wants and ends up happy. Like me. 🙂

Good night and here’s to a happy tomorrow!