I never really understood sadness. I’m a thinker. I worry but I’m not in tune with my emotions. I have anxiety if something doesn’t go the way I think it will and worry incessantly about a test or an interview. I don’t make decisions based on feelings or emotions because I think about the next best step, I ask myself what is the logical thing to do, where will this get me? I have a sense of my emotions, but don’t care too much for them – I don’t think about them. When I see a friend, I enjoy my time with them and know that I am happy to be in their presence but I don’t think about how happy I am.

It wasn’t until I found myself stressed beyond words, hopeless, void of positivity, that I realized this is what sadness feels like. It wasn’t brought on by a loss or a death, but by bitter disappointment after failing to land a job I wanted. This was after interviewing with 4 managers in the second round of interviews.

I wasn’t sad at first, but I realized 4-5 months have passed since I graduated and my prospects were at an all time low. This moment led to me “crashing” – instead of pushing through everything, I just stopped and really reflected. I initially blamed it on adderall withdrawal because I didn’t take it for two days prior to this but I really think it was the 2/3 hour walk I had. One fourth of the walk was running, another fourth was talking to my friend on the phone, and half the walk was looking for my ID that I thought I lost so I retraced ALL of my steps until I got to my apartment. My phone died during the last half and I had time to think. I couldn’t distract myself from myself.

This walk help me see that I was sad. A day or two before, I needed my Mom to make me feel better, so knowing full well what her answer would be, I asked her if she would still love me if I didn’t find a job in the next few weeks. I needed this because that’s the only sure answer I knew. Everything else was up in the air – will I get a job? Will I get rejected over and over again?

I don’t think I understood the meaning of hard word until I started applying to jobs. I work hard when completing a task because I procrastinate but I never never worked so long at something before. I like seeing results, I like to know that there is an immediate conclusion but this job process is exhausting, I would get interviews, and then a second interview, and then I wouldn’t get the job. I didn’t question myself the first time, or the second time, but the third time it happened, oh boy.

How do you know your sad if you only think about it what it means? You just FEEL sad. Maybe it’s because I don’t stop to revel in my feelings and keep going because I know things will be better, or maybe it’s because nothing tragic has affected me.

Writing about this makes me come to terms with my emotions,especially when I don’t want to.

I know that this struggle of finding a job is helping me grow but it’s hard when I feel like I’m by myself in this. I have people who support me but it’s not the same when they aren’t exactly in the same place as I am. I know that many people go through this but it’s different when you’re removed from that position. I feel like I’m whining, being bothersome, being a drag, with my talk of unemployment so I don’t like talking about it or thinking about it. I don’t want sympathy. Success is all around me but I don’t have it, no matter how hard I’ve been working.

We all want to feel understood or genuinely listened to. A reoccurring theme in my studies has been that having a voice only goes somewhere when it brings action – if not by those who speak then by those who can act. My other blog, narrativeofwar.wordpress.com, was started when I realized that Palestinians are actively speaking and attempting to act but lack/lacked POWER in getting things things done. There are groups of people – children, women, refugees – who have things to say, but have no authority to do things. There are many obstacles for people who have no authority and issues are only heard when those who have some authority speak for them or can do something for them.