Yesterday, I got a tattoo on the side of my arm that says “believe in yourself.”
Part of that is that I am making an intentional effort to have all of my tattoos be symmetrical and I have text on the side of my other arm. That one is in J’s handwriting and it says “love is stronger than death.”
But then something interesting happened. I came home from the tattoo appointment and immediately took a nap, because the appointment was early and I hadn’t slept really at all the night before.
When I woke up from the nap, I was suddenly invigorated with this very new energy. At first, I decided that I would go back to volunteering with the Trevor Project. I had stepped away from it in late July, saying that I was not in a good place where my mental health would allow me to do it.
At the time, they said that they respected me for paying attention to my own needs and that they would welcome me back, whether as a volunteer or an employee.
They have had open positions for full-time counselors on evening and overnight shifts and I mentioned that it was my goal to try to get one of those permanent positions, although I also acknowledged that I would have to complete my training and prove myself first.
After my nap, I realized that I could try to go back to pursuing that work, with the eventual goal of getting a permanent job with them.
They have good salaries and absolutely excellent health insurance coverage, including for gender confirming surgeries. Since at least Chloe wants to get surgery and had a lot of money saved towards it (which she’s had to spend a lot of to help her get by while she’s out of work) it would be amazing if I could get a job with really good insurance that would cover it.
Suddenly I just started to realize that it is within my reach to possibly provide good health insurance for the kids and myself.
Honestly, I think I was just feeling so defeated before. I didn’t think that I would be able to ever have good insurance again, let alone provide it for my kids. I thought that because I need to work nights or on third shift, I would never be able to find any kind of job that would work with me.
But maybe I could actually get this job someday and it would make me feel like I was making a difference. I could still use my counseling skills without having to get a masters degree and licensing. I wanted to work with LGBTQ young people when I got my counseling degree anyway.
My greater sense of motivation extended beyond that, though. I walked at a 4.5 mph pace on my treadmill last night. I cleaned up a bunch of stuff, although I still have a lot more to clean. My pretty new purple iMac was delivered the other day and I’m going to set it up in my office. And I’ve almost got my new dresser ready to put in place. (One of them is already in place, so I’m halfway there already.)
I finally have a feeling of hope again. And I don’t feel a need to find a new relationship any time soon because I have more than enough to do on my own.
I don’t know if all of this is the result of just putting some simple words on my arm in the form of a tattoo or if it’s completely unexplainable but either way, the result is the same and I’m ready to attack the world again.