Cocoon

A warning in advance - this is probably going to be a whingey one, because I'm at home and feeling sorry for myself.

A plan I had when I moved here was to start up a version of the philosophy group I attended in Sydney. I deeply believe in the group's values and format, and it gave my life a sense of meaning when I was attending regularly.

I didn't pursue the project right away when I first moved here because I had underestimated the effort involved in just setting up household and doing my job, but a few months ago I did start to think about it again. I lined up a potential venue, a coffee house associated with a charitable organization that serves as a venue for all sorts of diverse alternative groups. I tracked down the program head, he was interested, it sounded like my proposed group's objectives were aligned enough with the coffee house's mission that they would sponsor it, I could use the place for free, they would put me in their monthly calendars, it all looked very positive. But first, he said I should attend one of their existing discussion groups, to see if there would be "synergies".

And that's where it stopped. Their group meets every Friday at noon - but I work a proper job so I wouldn't be able to attend one of those, much less a few of them to see if the format and populace were the sort I wanted to associate myself with. The evening one meets every fourth Wednesday night. So, yep, tonight, in ten minutes, in fact. This is the third one I've had on my calendar, I even knocked back another arrangement tonight to make it possible that I could go, but I can't go.

At 5pm I end up too shattered from work to do anything hard like go somewhere in a room full of strangers, much less be obliged to discuss and converse with them, and present myself to their leader as a together, gung-ho, trustworthy sort who, if given the venue to host her own thing, would do a good job and bring their whole organization additional repute. No way I could be that girl after a day of work. So I have crawled back to my cozy and safe home to just sit very still and gather enough energy that I maybe can go back and do it all again tomorrow.

Why is my work so shattering? Am I just really old now and can't work hard any more? It is kind of a hard job, lots of tasks, endless to do list that I never finish. And hard to prioritize because I'm so far flung out there on my own. I haven't had a boss since July 1, so no one really cares what I do or how well I do it, but I live under the constant threat that one day someone will finally ask me, and I'll fall short.

And the people - I like the people but I think the politics take a lot of energy to manage. I don't have a bestest friend at work with whom I can just be absolutely myself. Every word has to get weighed up and calculated and run through various scenarios before being uttered, even the facial expression and tone have to be controlled to convey the right impression - not too clueless and scared, not to ambitious and confident, not too goody-goody and positive, but not too cynical and dejected either. To make things happen I have to exert personal influence and conversational clarity, mainly via email, to about 100 different people. And I get more or less no direction, feedback, or window into what this will all be like in 3 months because we're undergoing a restructure so I know I won't have this job any more but don't know what my new job will be.

So, I just don't have enough sawdust sewn inside me to go to a meeting with strangers and discuss with them, and sell myself as the potential leader of a group of my own that would have synergies with it. Much less actually start a group, promote it, ruck up on time, lead it, make newcomers feel welcome even if they're crazy, and all the charismatic things that the leader of the Sydney group used to do week in week out. I need to curl up, eat rice cakes and watch bad cable TV. For days! I don't have the gumption to do anything but work, since work takes so much.

So, then, the big question is, how the fuck am I ever going to make any friends? Much less ever get a new boyfriend, much less partner up with someone, so that when life does this to me I can come back into my cozy house and there will be someone else in it, someone who has my back and is my friend and thinks I'm great just as I am and I don't have to control my reactions (well, as much as you always do in a marriage, but not as much as at work) and can be safe and supported and get restored. I want another caterpillar here in this cocoon. How the fuck am I ever going to have enough energy to get out there and find one, to haul back in here and be with me when I retreat back in?