Yep. I finally did it. I quit my job. Tomorrow is my last day.

I have mixed feelings. I'm glad to be leaving and know it was the right thing for me. I am also terribly sad that it came down to this. There have been several other situations this year that have forced me to leave if I wanted to retain any shred of self-respect. The worst was when I left residential treatment this past summer because a large group of girls had been reading my personal journals for several months as some sort of messed-up version of entertainment. It was a group thing.

I feel a similar sense of betrayal at work. I felt like I finally had something going for me and all of these psycho dieters just had to go and ruin it for me. It makes me angry. And more than a little bitter.

There seems to be a pattern in my life: I'm not a pushover or a people pleaser. I'm more than happy to tell you to go shove it if it comes down to it. But that doesn't stop people from betraying me. The main difference between the work situation and the journal situation is that these girls intentionally read my journal. At work, though they intentionally dieted in a very inappropriate way, they weren't doing it to me personally. Big difference.

Same feelings.

I feel an even stronger need to isolate because so many of my relationships have ended in grief and me getting hurt. There have been other incidents in the past year, all of which are either too long or too personal to detail, that have led to the same outcome. Leaving a toxic person or situation because I felt I had no other choice if I were to live with myself. How could I stay in treatment in a facility where reading my journals had become some sort of pseudo-group activity? I would become hostile and bitter- the exact sort of person I don't want to be. The same at work, except I would be driven psycho.

I'm angry at myself for getting into these situations. I know, I know- I couldn't have prepared or prevented them. But there's also a sense of someone ripping out my heart, stomping on it, and then asking "Oh, you want it back?" Well no shit I want it back. But could you put it in the same condition as when you ripped it out? That never happens.

Relationships carry an inherent risk, that you will get burned, that you might burn someone else. I don't like that. I want a 100% money-back guarantee. The cruelty that is is intentional (the journal-reading) is actually easier to understand from an emotional standpoint. They were immature little brats. They were jealous I was getting better. They wanted to know I wasn't perfect. Blah blah blah. The work situation is trickier. My co-workers thought they were doing a good thing by dieting. They didn't do is specifically to piss me off, though that is precisely what they did.

I can't change that. I can't change their desires to lose weight, the weight-loss culture as a whole. I just have to leave these toxic situations. Or change my attitude.

I get a sense from some people around me that I'm making a mountain out of a molehill, that everyone diets, I need to learn to live with it, some people are idiots (i.e., Ms. Bagel-is-Junk-Food). The only difference is that I was stuck there if I wanted to continue at my job. And I know I'm stuck in a diet-crazy culture. I get that. It's certainly not news to me. But out here, in this vast world, I can have much more of a say in the little microcosm I create for myself. I can surround myself with people who are different, and creative, and don't care about the size of their thighs.

This is also hindered because I've been hurt and betrayed so many times that I have lost a lot of trust in people. There are many more of good eggs than bad ones (my bloggies included), but those bad ones do a lot of damage.

I am, in spite of all of this, rather satisfied with my decision. It feels like a huge burden has been lifted from my shoulders.

And that tells me all I need to know.