Feeling Jagged

I screamed out for the universe to help me. And all I heard was silence and that was answer enough. My job is a terrible organization to work for. I complain about it, but I do give my body my blood, and even tears. I wake up at 5:30 in the morning and my day is spent running and hustling from one Operating Room to the next. Watching people get cut open and stitched back together. It should be a place of hope. But our bosses do not care about us. We recently got raises and mine was lower then most of my fellow coworkers. I run the hallways eight hours a day, fetching, and picking, lifting, pulling pushing. Hunting things down and I get a small nod of appreciation but the glory goes to everyone else. My coworkers and I are marginalized and understaffed. Told we have to do more with less. The majority of the money stays at the top. For a while we weren’t allowed to take time off because we were so sort staffed. Not to mention how many OR’s we have to cover a day. It’s supposed to be two but since July it’s been three or even four. I start work at 6:30 AM and I usually don’t get a chance to sit down and eat until 10:00AM and even then there are constant interruptions. We mop the floor, we wash the tools, we make sure the surgeries run on time. We transport patients, get their beds, and help transfer them from their stretcher to their bed. Yet the accolades go to the nurse or the scrub technician. Our bosses pretend to care but nothing changes. My job is a terrible place to work and it stresses me out to no end because I feel like I am trapped in the moment of life. That I am ripped asunder by the people that claim to care. I carry a lot of pain with me always have. It’s my own fault I let people into my life. I trusted in people I shouldn’t have. And they used me and tortured me for all I was worth. Never realizing I am the strong one. I am the smart one. I’m tired of fake promises and lies to make yourself look better. Well that loving innocent kid, he died a terrible death and I took his place. Part demon, part avenging angel! Everyone is so fucking selfish, so fucking out for themselves and it weighs on me. I wasn’t meant to be treated liked shit, and stressed out by every aspect of my emotional and work life. I just want to run away. I want to be someone different than who I am now. One step at a time right? My art, it’s what lifts me up, but it can’t sustain me. It can’t pay my fucking bills and that is all I want. A job I’m happy with. Friends that aren’t selfish pricks only out for themselves. Relationships that bring my up, and run smoothly. All of these things I don’t have. And it’s killing me! Other people have them. It cannot possibly be my lot in life to suffer and toil for nothing. I cannot except that. I guess all signs are starting to point to extricating myself from this story all together. The only thing that keeps me here is guilt, love, regret, shame, and familial bonds. So instead of working out, I’m going to drink beer and get high. Fuck the world today. I’m gonna wallow in the depression fuck the meds they ain’t working. Fuck the job, fuck the past, lets lay down awhile and get back up later.