I’m going to a new med doctor. The appointment isn’t until like November 2nd. I’m hoping I have enough meds or refills to make it that long. OR I hope the office will refill them.
I recently looked at my chart online. There was no update to my diagnosis. All my chart showed were med changes and my vitals. They haven’t taken my vitals in over a year. When I asked my doctor why I couldn’t see more she said I would have to request them. Which makes no sense because Donna goes to the same practice and can see everything. Why they have been charting my vitals, but not actually taking them? No answer. She seemed somewhat hostile about it all.
It made me think “If she is lying about my vitals what else is she not doing properly?” So I made the choice to switch to someone else within the practice.
My therapist said he is proud of me. Over a year ago I would have just sucked it up and kept dealing with it. I would have just conceded. But now I’m standing up for myself and saying “no.”
I don’t know what is wrong with me. But I do know that it isn’t just recurrent major depressive disorder. My symptoms don’t line up with that completely. There are some symptoms that point to other problems.
We will see what the new doctor says. Then if she says the other doctor wasn’t doing her job I will file a formal complaint against her. I’ve heard that I’m not the only one having problems with her. That makes me feel less crazy.
I think I’m making friends. Honestly, I’m not sure. I always feel like an awkward teenager trying to go on a first date.
What do I say? What do I do? How weird am I being? Do these people actually like me or are the pretending to like me?
Lots of paranoia involved. I’m very unsure of what is socially acceptable.
Lately I am a rubber band. I’m twisting, twisting and twisting. Soon I will snap.
This past weekend was rough.
Friday night we went out drinking which was fun… till I got home and threw up my guts. It also seemed to make my depression rise to the surface some because I had thoughts of throwing myself down the steps.
Saturday was a wedding which didn’t go to horribly for the couple, it was just a hard time for me. It was a depressing evening.
Sunday was the boys birthday party, planned by their father and I… with both of us present. It went well but I was anxious THE. WHOLE. TIME!
The kids at work have been crazy. Not the kid I take care. Just all the ones in the classroom.
More is going on but I don’t want to try to find the words. So I’ll be back once I’ve found then.
I haven’t written since the last post. What am I suppose to say. It was a difficult day. When it happened over a year ago I didn’t cry much. Not because I was in shock or disbelief. But because I didn’t care to much. Why would I? We weren’t close. He hadn’t talked to me or even tried.
As the year passed anger and sadness built. Which lead to my last post.
Right now the feelings are fading into the background of my mind. Next year they will rise to the surface again. So until then I’ll deal with my today’s. That’s really all I can do.
On August 6th Donna attempted to get me to meditate. I find it to be hokey. But I will try because she asked me to. I’m not sure if it was a success or not. Somehow we ended up on the topic of Greg, my father.
So this is to him even though he isn’t here. And it is for me because I need it.
One year ago, September 10th, 2017, you shot and killed yourself. I have been angry with you most of my life. I am still angry, but now the anger is worse and there is sadness.
I waited days, months, and years for you to reach out. For you to right your wrongs. But it never came. There weren’t apologizes for the mean things you said to me growing up. No apologizes for when you hit me. No apologizes for not being there when I needed you. You didn’t try. Was I just not important enough? Did you just not love me?
You never asked about my life, you never asked about my kids. You never showed any interest. You never asked me to come visit. Some people might say that I should have done something or said something. But they are wrong. It is not the job of the abused to confront their abuser. It is the abusers job to rectify their mistakes. Especially if they have “found Jesus” as Greg proclaimed often on Facebook.
I get told I should focus on the positives. But it’s hard to do when anything positive that ever happened was followed by something negative.
Now I have days where I am devastatingly sad. I am angry you never tried to fix it. And I am sad. I will never have a resolution. I will never feel like you loved me.
For those who may not have been reading since the beginning; I am a pediatric home health aide.
I go to peoples homes and help take care of their children OR I go to school with them. Intellectually and/or physically disabled. Some of these mom’s don’t get a moment to themselves. They work out of the home and in the home. I come in so they can go to work, then they come home and take over wherever I left off. For them there aren’t many moments to stop for a break.
Then we have the other mom’s. The ones who milk the system. They somehow manage to have someone around almost 24/7. Even when they are home. Normally these are the ones with more money. I’ve never seen this with the working class families.
These mom’s are hard to be around at times. They act like their life is so hard, that they are so put upon, that they “just need a break.” When in reality the aides are doing the work. They go get their hair done, their nails done, massages, tans, or whatever else. It’s not just a once in a while thing either. It’s ALL. THE. TIME.
In these homes I find myself doing things that are beyond the scope of my job description. I am asked to iron other peoples clothing, vacuum the whole house, the cars, wrap presents, and I’m sure I’m forgetting something.
To these mom’s I want to ask “how do you need a break when you aren’t doing anything?” But I don’t. I need my job. I need the money. I need a break. I take care of other peoples children then come home to take care of my own.
Know who else needs a break? The mom’s above, who go to work and then come home to take care of their child. Their child whose care requires more than the average child.
Everyone deserves a break once in a while. Some of us can’t take that break. Some don’t have anyone to help after work. Some don’t have the money.
Auto correct is giving me two different words and I don’t feel like googling it. So I am doing one of those things.
Last night I wanted to hurt myself. But instead I found myself here. I took my bedtime psych med and I took two clonipine. And it slowly passed.
How many times will it pass though? What happens if it doesn’t pass? What if I just keep carrying that desire to harm myself day in and day out?
It started with me over reacting to something. Which seems to be the case most days. I can’t seem to stop myself from just reacting. I can’t slow down and process things. I’m sure it’s a learned habit. But how do I break it?
Todays post was suppose to be something else. I rescheduled it for tomorrow.