God is my source

Don't really know where this is going but that seems appropriate seeing as how I don't know where I am going, what I'm really doing or anything else for that matter. Ever since my dad died I've just been kind of drifting along. The "consulting" gig at Hennessy's quickly turned into a 6 day a week line cooking job. No real shock there but I'm just not interested in doing that anymore. As I write this my phone is buzzing with a call from my mother. I'll call her back but right now I just need to write. Writing tends to be good therapy for me. Thoughts knock around in my noggin' for days and nights on end and eventually have to be expelled through the written word. As far as how I've been feeling lately I would say that I've been depressed...but really it's all relative. Someone who doesn't have a history of clinical depression would surely consider themselves depressed but for me it's a low level depression. On a scale of 1-10 I'd say I'm in a level 2-3 depression right now. Which is pretty extraordinary considering my history of mental illness and the fact that my dad just died. Everything is still up in the air as far as my life goes. Maybe this is how I want it. I don't know. Maybe I don't want to commit to anything. I definitely don't want to commit to the job at Hennessy's. I was offered the chef position and turned it down. She hired someone else who will start next week. I told her I would stay on line cooking 3-4 nights a week but she keeps pushing to try to get more out of me. As far as I'm concerned for an hourly wage you get a line cook, a fucking kick ass line cook but a line cook nonetheless. Truth is the scene there doesn't do it for me. The restaurant owner is not very pleasant to be around. I don't like having to deal with her. We have a friendly relationship but I keep her at arm's length and that is the main reason I declined the opportunity of the chef position. It would have been nice in a way to have some sort of concrete thing going in my life but I weighed the pros and cons and decided that my freedom and peace of mind were more valuable than a paycheck. I'll probably be a little bummed come 3 weeks from now when my paychecks no longer reflect the consulting salary but oh well. I know God is my source. God wants me to be happy and healthy and will take care of me no matter what. The West Virginia gig is still a big question mark. I'm perturbed that I've been throwing myself at this dude for the sous chef job and he hasn't snatched me up. Not to toot my horn too loudly but I consider myself a good "get." This other guy needs to shit or get off the pot. If I were in the chef's position I would tell him just that. "Look, either you want this job or not because I have an amazing candidate who is very interested in the position." I guess I have to look at it from the other sous chef's point of view but I wouldn't put the chef in that position. I'd give him an answer either way. Oh well, everything is as it's supposed to be. I don't want to run off and leave my mom. I'm worried about her. I want to be there for her but the vast majority of responsibility of action rests on her shoulders. She needs to summon the courage to grieve and realize that my dad is not coming back and that she needs to learn how to live her life without him instead of wallowing in self-pity. I know this probably sounds really harsh but there is a huge tendency in her for co-dependence. In many ways I am afraid that my helping her will only postpone the inevitable. That she's eventually going to have to woman up and learn to live her life on her own two feet. I say these things here but when she calls I come running. When I really feel like I need to get on with my own life. The past year has been a blur. Ever since my dad was diagnosed I thought of little else but him and my mom. Countless hospital trips, emergency room visits, chemotherapy, radiation, watching my dad fade away. I'm not gonna lie it's a lot for a person to go through and now that he's gone I want to start living my life again and start finding my way again. But several times a day I get phone calls from my mother crying and I can't move on...I get pulled back into it all. There is no easy answer to any of this. Only time will heal these wounds and right each of our ships. That's it for now. I'll stop here and pick up the phone and call my mother.