Driftwood Diaries

✨ Enter the World 🌍 Of an Enneagram Type 9 ✨

And explore… the inner richness of one’s life 🌌

Preface: I am a 34 year old woman. I have been studying the Enneagram alone for 5+ years. This is my journey.

Type: 9w1 (Sp/So)

-The purpose of this blog is to journal and share my experiences: Both the good and the bad. The Unhealthy and Healthy. Hardships and triumphs.

-I hope to gain insight and genuine understanding from my life, and the lives of others, through the eyes of a 9w1.

-And I’ll throw some knowledge in there too.

-My Husband, who I frequently mention here, is a Type: 1w9.

[Not interested in discussing: Tritypes/MBTI]

✨ Welcome! ✨

WE. ARE. NOT. GOING TO. OBSESS…

OK.

Journal Time.

I said I was going to finish up today’s journal entry from lunch BUT NOT YET.

(🎺 Tyyyyype Niiiiiiine PRO-CRAST-IN-ATION!! 🎺)

No. I gotta get some things off my chest.

I am hurting.

Deeply hurting.

And I hate that.

Today I cried at work because of how lonely I am now in my department.

I have to put in my AirPods to drown out the sounds of Margarita guffawing loudly with Alice, and Alice shouting back to the other hens in the department… this… playful banter that everyone has lately. Kinda makes me sick. {Sick as in feeling uneasy and nerved because  everyone, absolutely everyone, around my cubicle TALKS. They talk loudly, they laugh loudly, some squeal, it’s just all DISTRACTING noises. What happened to this “no chatting” rule that my boss and her boss’s boss kept enforcing on our teams? What? We had like 3-4 meetings about it… (As much as I didn’t care much for the rule because people are going to people, I agree that my coworkers noises are distracting. It takes me 2-3x longer to work my brain and problem solve my tasks. And don’t get me started if I’m focusing hard on something and you interrupt me… There’s quite a bit of information that my brain has problems retaining so I gotta focus and stay on top of things. AND GOD DAMMIT JENNY, TURN OFF YOUR GODDAMN RINGER ON YOUR CELLPHONE.)}

I probably sound like a miserable ol’ hag right now. I don’t think I’m miserable. I am in this weird place between being calm and hopeful. Hopeful for a good life at work… despite Alice’s presence.

I do feel lonely.

Nobody comes to visit me in my new desk. Well… nobody but T****. She’s an elderly Type 2 who definitely moves toward people… Y’know, in the Hornevian Group…

Nobody comes over and actually asks how I’m doing.

There’s this phone program on all of our computers that allow you to Instant Message your coworkers. Alice and I wrote each other on that program every morning for six years. It was funny, we had secret code words (like the word ‘corn’ actually meant ‘porn’), and we had a small gathering of nicknames for her Friends-With-Benefits boy-toy that she eventually fell head over heels for. 🙄 << This is a legitimate reaction thinking about him or even hearing his name because He. Is. NOT… a good man.

We used that IM for so long, it kinda became our thing. We used to get so paranoid that we would be caught chatting on there, either electronically through IT or our evil ex-boss simply walking by, that we were very careful using it. We would quickly hide the program window when she was near. —-Now… Alice don’t give a fuck who see’s her writing anyone. I’ve passed her many times now with that damn IM window open; our boss too.

It feels dark and lonesome when you stand up, look around, and notice everyone around you is also using the same program to IM each other. I know Alice started that. I know she initiates chats with every one else on the team. Alice had always been one to go outside our 1:1 and type to others to get to know them. But I can’t help but wonder… what the hell could everyone be talking about?

No one writes me. Alice was the only one.

I threw a few attempts at Margarita to use the IM with me, but she was quite horrible at it. Nothing like Alice. She’d take forever to respond and she would tell me she doesn’t trust the system (as she shouldn’t). Fine, we won’t chat that way then. And this was even established before I moved desks, I knew she wouldn’t be up for it really. I just knew it wouldn’t be a thing between us.

To my surprise… Today I walked by Margarita’s and Alice’s desks, and I noticed Margarita was on the IMs!!!!!! OMG. She is such a hypocrite. What the hell could she be frantically typing about? Her nails clacking away on her 1980’s keyboard. And shit, she’s already sent 4 messages before that, I can tell by the color of the chat bubble. It’s her! Who the fuck could she be writing to? And so much!!

I continued my walk towards my desk and took a seat. It settled in with me that I don’t have anymore friends in my department at work. And these are people that I have to see 40 hours a week [thanks-a-fucking-lot to my company’s leadership team that gave us a mandatory RTO order back in February. At least when Alice wasn’t talking to me for the first 5 months, she altered her schedule to the point that she would never have to see me again (her work-from-home days were opposite of mine)].

Sitting at my desk, I started to cry.

I would quickly, and quietly, swipe a tissue from it’s box to dab at my eyes. I made sure that I was ducked and out of sight of my other coworker’s eyes when I did this. I’m hiding. I don’t think I would be able to heart the embarrassment of being caught crying at work.

“It doesn’t bother me,” Alice would always say, referring to herself when she’d cry at her desk. Yeah, Alice would cry back then too.

Sometimes I wonder if she still cries at work.

~

The thing about getting all of this off my chest: I am quite disappointed in Margarita. Sure, yesterday I wrote about how I’m allowing our friendship to slowly die, but friendship is a two-way street. I often go to Margarita’s desk to say hello and briefly chat (there’s again that stupid “no chatting” rule, unless it’s on a mutually shared 10 minute break. 🙄); I’m the one that ♥️ Likes ♥️ her Instagram stories/posts; I put in the effort to be a friend and see her in person. When we were so much ‘younger’ in our friendship, she admitted she was obsessed with me as a person (and she’d say I was wholesome) and she’d always drop Likes on my stuff online… Now the girl hardly interacts with me at all. Anywhere. On anything!

Just a few days ago I wrote her a text message that said she and I need to get together soon and hang out again outside of work, because it’s been since March that we did anything fun outside of work. She responded: “Yeah, totally! Next scary movie lol”.

I think I’m fed up. And I gotta figure out a way to keep myself happy through all of this [to survive…].

Something has drastically changed between us all. Even sooner than I had thought it would. The hierarchy has made a switch and I’m now the peon.

I think I’ve given Margarita the ick somehow.

I don’t feel as close to Margarita anymore and that’s really sad because it meant it was a short lived friendship.

Margarita spends 40 hours a week in Alice’s presence now.

I knew it would be natural for her to drift away from me.

A small part of me wished Margarita stayed loyal only to me, but the harmony in my heart calls elsewhere. It calls for people to be friends.

I’ve always wanted Alice and Margarita to be friends. I was friends with Alice first and for several years. Margarita was my new friend. That is why I wanted Alice to be at the winery with us to get to know Margarita.

Now they get to know each other fully.

When I also say that I wish Margarita stayed loyal to me, I wanted things to be mutually sound with how I felt about Alice and my friend-breakup. At first, Margarita shouted, “Alice is a bitch!” when I was glum one moment. And then Alice… the 1w9… puts a humanitarian/political sticker on the bumper of her car, and suddenly it’s, “I like Alice, she’s cool 🙂.”

I’d respond back with a nod. 🙂‍↕️ Alice has always been awesome. ‘Uh, DUH!’ I say in my head, ‘This is what I’ve been trying to tell you!’ but sweet Margarita… she was being loyal then. It’s just, again… it wasn’t harmonious, and sound, equal.

That was one thing that always struck me a bit odd about Margarita. She was so damn fast to thinking and judging to the extremes about a person, before even getting to know them!

[sigh]

{Perhaps she gets this way with Disintegration to Type 1 🤔}

Anyway. Margarita.

Elderly 2w1 Coworker comes up to me and says: “——(Yada yada)- I know your people pleasing tendencies can get in the way of things…”—

(which has nothing to do with my issue at the moment)

Me, internally: Da fuq??? Projecting much???

I feel like I should be doing something for my fitness right now, and I feel inspired to do so, but it’s already late and it’s really smoky outside.

What am I currently addicted to?: [ 🎶 I’m a dick-! I’m addicted to you! 🎶 --Ahem, sorry, little Millennial reference there.]

No but seriously, I’m addicted to: -Sugar -Social Media -Energy Drinks (but that probably ties in with sugar) -My bed (ROFL such a Type 9…) -And NOT the Enneagram… Obsessed. 🧘🏻‍♀️

Like, I want to post on my socials for likes. {that's not a good thing} I don’t need a lot. Just a few. But one thing is for certain, if I post something and it ends up being cringe? Delete! But if it gets 1 Like. JUST ONE LIKE!…. Then I’ll keep it up. I mean- someone likes it, right? That should be good enough.

But sometimes it’s not.

Recently, I have added my supervisor from work on socials. 

I know. I know. I probably shouldn’t have done that.

I’ve known her for 3 years now, and her profile has always been suggested to me to add as a friend, so I thought, “Fuck it.” And clicked the friend request button.

I know what you’re thinking. Now I need to censor myself. I already got that protected (duh!). I filter through certain family members and coworkers, lumped into the same purgatory where they don’t get to see my stuff all the time, my choice. (There are some major cringe relatives…) Every once in a while I will let all my Friends/Followers see what I post. But it’s rare. And even rarer to go completely public 🫣.

Anyway, so I added my supervisor and she accepted the friend request. I don’t know why but I want her to see how cool I can be? Like, she already knows I’m kind {she once stepped into my cubicle to radiate in my sunshiny persona while she was flustered about something at work. It was an energy pick-me-up. She needed joy.} But I want her to see a bit more into like..., how I think, and what I may find that’s cool or beautiful, I want her to like me. Even more than she already does.

We’re… mutuals (realistically). Alice joined our department first, therefore had training first with my supervisor. I came in several months later, and the women had already formed some small friendship. {She even gifted Alice a book for her birthday!} I think my supervisor mostly likes me by association.. but I believe she finds me to be someone that can be... more. A good person. 

In May, she gave me a card when I was on vacation. It was a little thing my work was doing, “Write out a ‘kudos card’ with candy!” For your coworkers. I came back from my vacation to find it on my desk with a small written note on the back. (From: *my supervisor's name*.)

The card is simple. Even generic. But… it was the thought that meant the most to me.

She didn’t have to give me a card. But she did… Why?………

I think she finds me wholesome and a decent person, I guess. Sometimes I fear she thinks I’m stupid. {I have said stupid things, and I have done stupid things, all too often at work.} But she is kind to me. She could mistreat me, but she doesn’t.

The card’s message had something to do (kudos) with one's kindness.

Kindness.

She thinks I’m kind. That is good.

I want her to see me online that I am an ally, a friend, a mess-up for real, but that I am good.

I wept a little bit at work today, thinking about my Dad. He’s so old now, and his body is breaking down on him. It’s not something of pity rather it is love for my guardian and I am sad to see him getting more and more frail by the minute.

I miss my Dad.

I want him back home.

My Husband (a 1w9), Me (9w1) and my Dad (the 8) all lived under my spouse’s and my roof. Can you imagine that?… The Anger Triad from the Centers Of Intelligence, all living together in this environment..

My Dad only lived with us for a few years. Tension rose, and I had to let him go… My husband and I asked him to pack up and leave to live somewhere else.

Do you know how heavy that feels on a child? Even though I’m all grown up?…

There was so much guilt and shame.

My Father saved me when I was a toddler. And I couldn’t keep him here.

My husband and I needed the space and peace to ourselves again. But it’s been a few years now and I want my Daddy back.

My Dad comes to watch our pets (having the house to himself) when we go on vacations. He comes early enough to hang out, as well as he stays a few days later, after our trip is over. He loves our house. He always has. I need him to have a HOME-home again.

My Dad will visit us from states away a few times a year. And each time gets harder for me to say goodbye when he has to board his plane back to A*********.

I want my Dad here… where he’s close by. Within hearing distance if he falls. A comfortable bed. A working oven. The perfect weather. To see his grandchildren. And so much more.

We’re going to take my Aunt, for an example.

My Aunt (a 5w4) - she helped raise me. My Mother was a hot mess when I was a child, so my Aunt had to step in and… y’know… kinda mother me. I told her a few times that she is like a mother to me. I have so many good (and bad) memories with her.

About six years after my 8th birthday, I met a beautiful person. She was my neighbor, the mother of my neighbor’s children (2 boys, one I had a crush on at some point in my adolescence). I won’t say her name online. This is a small story anyway. My neighbor!! Lovely, extraordinary, crafty and home-making goodness, beautiful neighbor. I was starstruck that she was interested in getting to know my family better. She is an angel.

So.. I can see where this becomes painful for my Type 5w4 Aunt. I do, it’s just.. I’m just being me, and I’m going to make more friends and meet new people! (I’m only 14 at the time). — My Aunt got upset and jealous that I found my Neighbor to be a lot like a Mom to me too. Why can’t I have more than one Mom? {I have other needs that aren’t being met, and all women to me are different, each one being unique. I’ve always been drawn to women for nurturing and sweet care.}

My Aunt forever hates my Neighbor.

It’s sad, really. I know this to be true, even 20 years later, because I brought up my neighbor’s name to my Aunt one evening while we were having a good time together at the casino; and my Aunt blew up. She was harsh with her objection, and completely rejects the thought of my Neighbor having to do anything with my real-Mom’s life*

[*My mother suffers from Wernicke-Korsakoff Syndrome - And my Aunt never visits her anyway. My Neighbor has been paying visits to my Mother in a living-facility and even the mere thought of it, outrages my Aunt.

I’m not going to confess to her, “Yeah, well, it does happen. (Neighbor visits my Mom.)” I mean—- Nobody else really does. So what gives?]

Ugh. Just thinking about it makes me disappointed.

Anyway———— That is just ONE of the many examples I have in my life where people just get fucking weird around me and they end up getting butt-hurt over me befriending others. Too many have gotten close to me.

My Dad and his lady friend were sitting on the grass at an outdoor concert, when suddenly this group of people start to stand up in front of him. They were moving their stuff around for whatever reason, but going slow at it, laughing, chatting, while my Dad was trying to enjoy the show.

My father is disabled. Honestly, with him and his 8 nature, he would disagree with me and say “Cr!-pple”, call it “Cr!pple”, none of that woke shit. 🙄

However, I am not my father. And I prefer to use the word, ‘disabled’.

Anyway. So this group of people are blocking my Dad’s view.

My Dad nonchalantly says, “Hey, down in front.” 🍿 His words— he says it’s what they say in baseball ⚾️. But whatevs, I can see where he’s coming from. And he’s my Dad! He’s not being a jerk about it. It’s nonchalantly.

This random dude, that was off to the side of the group of people, he wasn’t with their party, but he comes at my Dad.

The conversation goes like this…

Stranger: You fucking— (cuss words and badgering at my Dad)!! —Asshole!!

My Dad: Oh, what the fuck’s your problem? Huh? — (more angry cuss words are thrown around).

Stranger: What the fuck are you doing, sitting on the ground, this is a standing section!!

The men continue to cuss each other out. The guy was getting ready to physically fight my Dad.

My Dad finally goes: “I’m cr!ppled!”

And the man is in shock, taken back by what he heard my Dad say. He backs away and leaves the area. Only but a minute later, he comes back to approach my Dad once more, standing and bending over him, and he harshly whispers “Fuck You.” To my Dad, before disappearing off into the crowd again.

I am just in shock hearing this, but also it doesn’t surprise me. I’m in fact delighted that my Dad was telling me this story (obviously he was okay)(Also-TYPE 8!!!!). But shock, shock, shock! 🫢