5.17.18 part 2

So, I went, drove into the parking lot, left, came back, sat in the car for 15 minutes, and then finally talked myself into actually going in, even though I was late.

My boss was amazing as usual and spent about 30 minutes just chatting with me, and pointed out to me how amazing it was that I kept in touch with her each day I was supposed to work, even while trying to keep myself out of the crisis unit (and at the time she had no idea it was that bad). I took the time I needed to get back on stable ground, and still came back once I was doing better.

That’s the part I wouldn’t have stuck with before. . .I never would have gone back.

And the thing is, when I decided I was ready for something like work earlier this year, I knew that I wanted to go with volunteer instead of paid work, first, because of the chance of something like this happening. And I knew that working in this field, and in the right office would be important because a supportive environment will make the difference for me. A paid job would most likely had to fire me at this point, but this was really good practice at how to handle a situation like this and next time (if there is a next time) I may be able to push through a little better, or come back a little sooner, and at least I know I can go back.

The same thing with school, I’ve been working towards my bachelors degree for 20 years now, and just now crossed the halfway mark. I never went back after I failed out of a semester of classes . . and i never managed to drop the classes if I was getting over my head (controlled crash and burn) . . and I keep going back, figuring out what I can change and trying again. I’m only moving inches at a time, but I keep trying. Eventually I’ll get there.

My boss just kept reminding me that I’ve come so far, and that I’m doing it one inch at a time but still making huge progress. I’m fighting against my brain every moment of every day.

Two years ago I couldn’t leave the apartment alone, and I couldn’t be left home alone for any significant period of time.

Two years ago I couldn’t walk around the block without stopping to catch my breath. I couldn’t walk up to my apartment without using the rails to drag me up.

Almost 2 years ago my world stopped turning, the bottom dropped out,

and I realized I could fly.

I used to post every time I walked a block, every time I went to the gym, every time I went to an appointment alone or got on a city bus. Now those are things I do without thinking twice.

And I know what I need to keep moving towards my goals. I knew what I needed when I took this volunteer job at United Way, and I know what I need to keep doing now. I’m getting there, one step at a time, even when some of those steps feel like they are backwards.

I just have to keep doing it.

5.17.18 part 1

I’m trying like hell to do the thing.

I put United Way on hold for a bit while i pulled my brain out of it’s own ass during dumb brain week.

Now I’m trying to get back in this week and dumb brain is telling me dumb things about how they don’t want me and I’m not going to be able to make it and I’m having a hard time getting out of my own way.

I logically know this is dumb brain, mental health stuff, but that’s just making it worse right now . . . stuck in a fucking loop.


Another really real, but really long, mental health post.

Kind of a word vomit thing happening here, but I need to get it out so it will maybe stop echoing around and spilling out my eye holes.

I went to an appointment to renew my transportation the other day. While I’ve gotten much better at riding buses, and I am doing much better in general, it’s still a lot for me to take buses on bad days or to something like work, or a stressful appointment, and then make it back home alone. This appointment meant proving to them that I am still disabled enough to need services. What I didn’t know was that they changed the system. I walked in with services, and with rides scheduled for ‘work’ the next day and found out that I was losing services effective the next day, for at least a month while they make a determination. This is while in the middle of my looking for a job and volunteering, still having multiple appointments each week, etc. That ride service is a large part of my independence. Yes, I know people will help, but I’m already getting financial help from people, now I’m in a position where in order to work or volunteer, or do things outside of my immediate area I’ll either need to accept more financial help so I can take cabs, or get help in the form of rides . . . losing independence when I’ve fought so hard to be “self saving warrior princess” is a huge HUGE deal. Especially when I did everything I was supposed to do. I jumped through the hoops, and I still lost, even though it may be temporary. There’s also the fact that it will take an entire month to find out if it’s temporary or permanent and that will effect what jobs I can get/handle and their location.

I’m in meltdown mode over this, while at the same time holding it together much better than I would have in the past. It’s this weird place where I’m able to melt down over something like transportation, instead of over something like, my electric being off, or being homeless. I know this isn’t that big of a deal. I have the help I need to cover this, it’s not an emergency really, but it fucking sucks because I’m moving forward and everything keeps knocking me back and it always FEELS like it did back when it was as big of a deal as the light switch doing nothing because power was turned off and my bank account was overdrawn and I had nowhere to turn.

I also recognize that I have the resources to keep this from being an emergency. I can still get food in my house, and medications and appointments, and part of my frustration is how PISSED I am that others that have it way worse are suddenly in the same position with no notice. This wasn’t how the system was 6 months ago when I was in the office last time with Kidlet.

What if I never move past this level of functionality. What if I can never make the 2 hour bus ride to a job, work more than 4 hours, then make the 2 hour ride home, because right now . . . I can’t do that, and on the days I try, I come home in tears. Even on the days I use mobility and work 4 hours I come home in tears and how am I going to work a paying job if they take mobility.

And then there’s why I keep fighting . . .

Yesterday I went to my ‘job’ and one of the calls I answered was a woman desperate for a tax appointment and we had none. I heard myself from 2 years ago on the other end of the line. She needed this appointment for financial and logistical reasons and there was nothing I could do. At one point she even said, “if you can’t help me, get mental health on the line because I’m going to lose everything.”

Holy Fuck . . . I’m setting tax appointments I should NOT be getting this call.

Except yes, I should be because I actually give a shit. She calmed down, I told her I understood, I listened . . .I told her I heard her, and I LISTENED. And I got it, she did what she was supposed to do with her back taxes, she called back weekly and she was still fucked for an appointment and she was out of time. When I got off the phone I talked to my supervisor both because I felt horrible for the woman on the phone and because I needed emotional support (I love my supervisor). I felt bad for younger me, for the days when my life really was that way, when every phone call ended with me feeling that desperate. I also felt bad for every call center employee who was on the other end of the line, I can’t imagine how they felt, and at the time I had no capacity to understand that no matter how many times I told them “I know this isn’t your fault, I just don’t know what to do” it didn’t make things any easier for them (if they felt things the way I do).

And even more important, my supervisor was able to help me find something, and I was able to call her back and give her an appointment, which is why I got that call, because I ended up able to help her, and that felt really damn good.

But I’m still here today, randomly crying because even the “feel good” post today about boundaries and self care and making sure you maintain sense of self, fucking hurts and reminds me that I’m yet again needing to ask for more help. Trying to figure out how to do that without becoming dependent on that help is a fine line that is hard for me . . . codependency was so much of my life . . . so much of my marriage . . .so much of my illness.

I refuse to repeat that. Balance is so fucking hard, and sitting with this and waiting while I figure out how to handle it feels impossible to me.

I need a plan and a way out, I need to know what’s next and this middle area . . .

Gah . . fuck that.