Bear’s Tooth, Can I Take A Name And Number?

I have nearly worked a full week at bear’s tooth now and am feeling a hell of a lot better at it and about it. I pretty much know what I’m doing now, people seem to be a lot friendlier, I have a much better grasp of the job and it isn’t actually to bad. I LOVE being able to be in my jeans all day, I am grateful for the free diet cokes, the stools behind the desk to sit on and being with someone as new as me! At first I wasn’t to sure if Ms.REI and I would get on but she’s pretty cool and puts me in my place when I need it (like when I’m getting frustrated or annoyed that I don’t know something or am cocking up she tells me to chill so I do). I finally took my food handler test today and aced it which was nice. Now I just need to get my permit and TAM card. For so long I have sort of avoided the whole growing up thing and all of a sudden I’m having to and moving here was the fucking point! I needed to grow up, I needed an environment that would push me to finally get things done, not just with my health which I have been or with the whole depression thing but with life skills like making my own money and driving and being involved with life. For so long I avoided new people and situations to the point where I was to scared to do that. Since I’ve been here I’ve interviewed for jobs, worked two different jobs, made new friends, been to parties where I didn’t know people; basically pushing my limits every single day. And it hasn’t been as horrible as I thought it would be, instead I’ve found that people actually do like me and I can make conversation without feeling like a dick and being a mute. I’ve found a really good friend. I’ve got employment for the next tourism season. I’m happy. Of course things aren’t perfect but I think me expecting perfection all the time was what caused my downfall. I wouldn’t ask for help so things would get completely beyond my capabilities. I thought that if things couldn’t be perfect then there was no point in trying. I pushed everyone away so they wouldn’t see me fall and so I wouldn’t drag anyone down with me. I lost love. I lost me before I even realised who ‘me’ was which was the shitest part really. Being here, pushing myself, being single and not having anyone to rely on to pull me through, to hide behind is probably the best thing for me.

I’m not fully there yet. I’m not even halfway there but I am making the steps. And it feels good


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