I left the house today for the first time in days. My original intention was just to do some grocery shopping. As much as I don’t want to go anywhere lately, a girl can only live on ramen noodles for so long. But before I actually made it to the store before I knew it, I was driving to my job. My former job.
I resigned today. After almost seven years I quit my job. It’s the right decision, I know it is. I can’t go back to work after all this. I can’t even see my own shadow right now without jumping to hide behind a piece of furniture. And I was a fool to even try to for these past few months. Who the hell can maintain a normal life like this? I should have started running the second I realized this was real. Maybe then they wouldn’t be dead.
I think my boss was relieved that I he didn’t have to fire me. We talked about all the times I’ve called out in the past few months, the multiple personal reasons I couldn’t share with him. At this point he thinks it’s all to do with the ex, is properly sympathetic and horrified that I’ve been stalked and hurt, but at the same point, I can see it. That look in his eyes of relief that I am about to no longer be his problem.
We worked out a nice little package for me. I get to keep my medical benefits and salary for the next six months in exchange for signing a silly paper stating that I was not in any way shape or form coerced or pressured to leave because of my current “personal difficulties.” Months of terror, stalking, and murder from both natural and supernatural forces summed up with the words "personal difficulties".
I can understand it though. Between my “changing behavior”, the habitual absences, and the now nearly constant presence of the police who suspect Tom might show up there, I’ve become a detriment instead of an asset. The only reason they didn’t let me go was because how would it look to fire a woman who had been stalked, kidnapped and etc.?
So there goes another piece of me. Since all this started I’ve had to give up my friends, my sleep, a good chunk of my sanity, and now my job. I may not have taken advantage of things as much as I should have, but I had it pretty good. I didn’t go out enough, but I had good friends. I wasn’t rich, but I made enough money to live comfortably.
Perhaps I’m being ungrateful. I found some very special people in the past few months. But I can’t help it.
I want my life back.