Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in Sam's LiveJournal:

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Thursday, March 10th, 2005
5:23 pm	Buck the hell up and make some loftier goals. Usually it keeps me somewhere short of completely insane to focus on, "well, I have to stay alive, and that's it." ETA MAY BE TRIGGERY! I don't know that it's working at the moment. WTF is up with my mind. Beyond... the usual... God, relief can be SOOOOOOOOOOOO much more wonderful than pleasure. I want relief so badly. There's the usual, and then there's the people feel used by me, which I'm perhaps not dealing with well (haha), and then there's OH MY GOD but my jaw and head hurt so much, and I have that feeling like... waiting for the sky to fall with anxiety... Actually the sky falling isn't nearly as scary as a knock on the door, and someone important is dead, or the knock on the door, and there are people to take me away. Lauzy, I am so obviously mental if I don't censor the hell out of myself! Even my greatest fears...like, torture/rape (normal), war (normal), and uh, being carted off to the loony bin by police/security. I don't know that that haunts everyone. Yeahhhhhhh, so there's that, and then there's ... big scary pressures... and that "ANYTHING could happen... NOTHING is impossible. something could be waiting around the next corner and jump out and get you." I have that feeling going on. It would't surprise me too much to be eaten by a dragon, or, like, arrested, or something horribly scary and highly unlikely like that. And then there is another category of pressures that are really acute at the moment... and then there's that I'm "off my meds" as SWTNC puts it (how very Cuckoo's Nest)... and esp the anxiety one, I think, makes a difference. Glad I haven't seized, though. Was a bit worried about that. Then more pressures. Then my drama dealing with my inability to deal with the fact that I'm stirring up drama in my own life in response to... drama. It would be very linkin park (not that there's anything wrong with that, unless you're old like I am) except that it's more like linkin park + fucking insane meet for maximum drama. Yeah, and I've had this headache for like a week and it's really getting old. And I HATE it when I'm anxious and shaky and totally get off of my list and my 24 hour plan done in 15 minute intervals. So how many of those 15 minute intervals did I NOT follow the list today? hahahaha And how many tasks undone.... oh my. And I hate the anxious shaky dizzy thing. and the I don't know but am being avoidant and won't check on some things. That is really... dumb. And I blacked out last night, it felt like orthostatic hypotension, so I drank some water and had half a boost, and it stayed. yay. no blacking out today. although honestly I'd take relief in just about any form, at the moment. More usual: so sad. Wish the pain would stop. Wish I could stop. Hate myself. Same wishful thoughts of attacking myself as if, say, I had a knife handy and a rapist was coming at me. Just fucking go for it and tear that mofo up. Except that the only person I hate enough to do that is myself. And that's off limits. Maybe not quite as off limits as doing it to someone else (which I actually don't have any desire to do anyway) but still very off limits. I'm so embarassed by my appearance, but I want to cut up my face. I won't. But, yeah, that would'nt be conspicuous or unattractive at all! *smacks self* Plus, even I know that my face is about the best attribute I've got. Total luck of the draw, I didn't do anything to deserve it, but I know that it's pretty nice looking. So, yeah, bad choice of parts of me to mess up. It's almost the only thing not messed up. And then... does my very presence scream "frustrating person who we'd like to label with a personality disorder?" yeah. Am I very likely diagnosible as one of the worst and most hopeless labels out there? Yep. Okay, so that's a bit of a description of how things are not going well. In reaction to all of that, I guess, I might kind of be losing it. Worse than usual. So maybe my little, "well, you've got to stay alive and that's it" ... terribly profound mantra... isn't doing the job anymore. Maybe it will help me survive to make goals beyond survival... although usuallly it just overwhelms me more. But.. haha, maybe it's the numbness and lunacy coming into play... I could not be more stressed and hopeless... might as well pile it on, I don't think it will make a difference. Although it's seriously taunting the gods... I guess I'm fucked up enough not to care about that as much now... it seems that maybe I could not feel or do any worse, so might as well set some higher expectations. Might as well fail something a little more challenging than simple survival. OR... the possibility exists that I might get/feel better. Theoretically, at least. So, yeah... minus frantically squeezing my head... and occasional breakdowns... and obsessively looking back my crazy post to see who might feel used by me (bothers me A LOT that I don't exactly know who)... and then somehow eating HALIBUT (sweet Jesus) tonight... That has GOT to stay down, and is not in the top 100 list of foods I would eat when having problems keeping stuff down... oy, not a good night for it. Other than those sidetrips, the general plan is to be productive this evening. I want to know who feels used by me. I guess it doesn't matter so much as I think I get the idea... I was... clingy and whiny... so I don't need to know who it was to know what not to do EVER again. But... it sounded like there was a fucking meeting, "several feel..." Fuckity fuck fuck fuck I want to know WHO! Not so that I can frantically apologise and beg for reassurance (gee, I'm not pathological at all), because I know at this point that that stuff only makes it worse, and I do have THAT much self-control, and... I know. Once you fuck up a relationship like that, it is over. Eileen, Bart, and now a group of that group. The people who I'm most comfortable with and have the most fun with ... I fuck it up. I'm even afraid to mail Eileen's book back to her.. and it's out of print... beecause I would have to get a phone or work address to do so, and I don't want to seem stalkerish! Maybe I can find an email address and ASK if she wants me to mail it back. (We worked in the same lab in college... she was an MDPhD student at the time, and we were good friends, and she was amazing. many ways just an older version of me...which was great, because she was suceeding... but also just really damn cool and liked ME!!!! Came to the hospital in the middle of the night from Harlem, even though I said not to... By subway. So... she was/is great, and cool, and compatible, and everything, and I fucked it up. that's the story) So, yeah, I know by now that you can't fix these things ever. And it sucks that the relationships that could be the best are the ones I fuck up. So it's not like I want to fix it with these people... I know I can't. I just want to know who. It would hurt to know, but .... for some reason, I think it would be good, and even barring that, I just want to, DAMNIT! Yeah, so other than a few nods to my own special brew of psychopathology... gonna be productive tonight. OH MY GOD I SMELL HALIBUT. don't hurl don't hurl don't hurl (Comment on this)
3:10 pm	It's not so much reality that bites. Ah, reality.... If you're an adult and you fuck up your life, you live and deal with the results alone. It is kind of annoying that every instinct I have is totally ass backwards. Scared of losing people? Get rid of any remaining ones, quick! Scared of instability? Turn it upside down. Scared of failing? Fuck it up irretrievably to make sure that failure is guaranteed. Scared of being the bad seed, the "such a shame... from such a nice family... how she turned out"... ? Make sure that no one could possibly think anything else. sandwich board sign, tatoo on my forehead, loudspeaker, and blinking red lights bad seed did not turn out well how did this happen such a shame she was just arrogant I guess she just thought too much of herself (2 Comments |Comment on this)
2:52 pm	last one... such sturm und drang hahaha from this little notsomuch a life, so much fucking DRAMA. efforts to be the straight arrow me on the straight and narrow again... dunno, if I don't have a therapist, will the shrink still prescribe the drugs? Whatever the outcome, I'm not getting a new one. I've had... two, and two that were meant to be short term. That's enough. We don't need to become a woody allen movie. No more therapists. I kinda hope this one hasn't totally dumped me. (Comment on this)
2:46 pm	me When I TRY I'm not good enough. When I'm not trying... trying to try...not even working so hard to be Good, I'm sure I'm awful. When I try I'm annoying to shrinks, an d I work to be the moedle. A me not bringing myself to try is scary... must be the worst patient ever. (Comment on this)
2:30 pm	oops haha It doesn't matter who reads this or doesn't. I know I'm just not so fascinating that much of anyone will... been cut off from people lately, not reading other people's entries or updating or anything. But, um, I don't want comments. I just want to put things into sentences. Works better on the computer than paper. also, this catalogs by date. Whatever, if I cared, I would do it some other way. But I'm all meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Trouble with SWTNC. It's never good when I know something is bad and that doesn't get a reaction from me. Like, I always want to be a good, respectful patient/client whatever. It's important because I'm spending very dear money to try to get my life. This is like my only/last chance. I freak out when I accidentally do something annoying. But... when I'm just... totally wrong and unable to bring myself to care, it's a bad thing. When I'm just an inconsiderate, irresponsible bitch... I kind of wonder how this will turn out. Definitely badly when I'm eager to please again and I've been evil. Because you can never take anything back. I was NEVER evil with previous shrinky types. This is kind of new. Maybe the beginning of a whole new bad time. I don't care if my life is bad, as long as I stay in the program and finish. I have to make it through, no matter what. It doesn't feel like it matters, now, to lose even more, but I think it will matter to me sometime. I'm already overwhelmed... not smart to add more weight to that. sometime it will matter again, and then I'll be sorry. Still don't have any other option but to keep going, so it's really dumb to make the going worse. Maybe from now 242 pm central time on I can not make anything worse. Maybe I haven't ruined everything yet. if I have, keepgoing. If I haven't, keep going. Doesn't seem to make much of a difference, but still, seems like the thing to do is not to make anything worse, if possible, from now now 243 pm central on. (Comment on this)
1:28 pm	Damn me :-) And that is pretty much it. :-) Was there a TV show called Life Goes On? life goes on and so do we just how we do it is a mystery???? weird, trite little theme song in my head. haha, from les mis "rain will make the flowers grow." and the chain gang song, about how our little lives don't matter at all. and from Rent "one song, glory, from the pretty boy .. man, who wasted opportunity one song before the virus takes hold.... to redeem this empty life" weird that I'm so into redemption, must be the protestant thing. Damn me. :-)\ blah blah (1 Comment |Comment on this)
11:14 am	Stop shaking! I sound insane. I hate it when I can't sshop shaking just because I'm being a big emotional dork! I've been trying to get written stuff done but it turns out too tremorry. I'm trying to put one foot in front of the other, and not even think about anything else. There is no use in thinking about anything else. My only choice is to keep going the best I can and live with the consequences of my failures. Yesterday was... worse, so I guess better today is a good thing? But I miss the numbness I was in and out of yesterday. Now I'm shaking and stuff and I don't like it and I probably look weird. Wasting spring break. I guess, a wry kind of joke... someone once had this saying... there is something worse than drinking Ensure... throwing it up. Food won't stay in me. Boost is really foul coming back out. It's trash day. I need to find something productive to do that I can do like I am... shaky and head rushy..., but it feels like in the past when I've been upset, not like from physical stuff. Because... my arms are cold and tingly and a bit numb? That's an upset thing. But some crackers stayed in me this morning so that's good. Shrink said to call his office and ask them to send refills to the pharmacy. I guess I've never had his office number? I'm confused. What is on his business card? In the past the numb thing has been kind of functional, which is odd. Remarkably adaptive of my system. When all I can do is keep going anyway, I am in a state where I can just keep going... almost autopilot. Takes effort, but... maybe it's that I've had practice? I can go and do while I'm feeling the bad stuff. Then it seems like I'm being crushed, and it's hard to breathe, and I'm dizzy, and I get annoyed, but then I breathe carefully, and can just move on. So that's what I'm doing. I have to go in public shortly, so I came onto the computer to see if I could get calmer and stop shaking. wTF is with shaking? It's just bizarre. I mean, when people die and I'm surprised, and like when the second tower collapsed and I knew I had friends in there, those times I shake. Now it's just... should not be as bad. I just realized that I do over and over the thing that I hate most about some people. The emotional parasite. I thought I had... clingy, annoying, crazy urges, but I could control them because I knew that it would alienate everyone. Haha, jokes on me. I was totally not controlling them. I was bleeding people dry like a vampire. Damn. I would despise me, too! I do, I guess... but just more at the moment. So I'll keep going. Hope nothing bad happens. hope people don't think I'm weird today. hope I stop shaking now? There is peace sometimes in thinking, "well, if I'm going to be miserable anyway, I might as well be cleaning up others' shit and puke." Might as well be of use to someone, somehow. It can be soothing. More than anything else. Except that holding my stuffed lion under my quilt on the floor is nice, too. But... not during the day. Anyway, there is peace often in stopping to care what others think. It's why a lot of things that I am happy that I got to do... like stay with the dying young man, but not that thing, because I told people so it doesn't count... I prefer not to tell anyone. or write either. that way I know that I did it just to be useful, and not to write about or so that anyone would think I'm useful. I can be sure of that if I don't tell anyone. Then I know that I've been useful. There's peace in feeling different kinds of pain, but just accepting it and letting it wash over me in waves, and not fighting it, just relaxing. There's peace in knowing I can't make it go away, and just letting it happen. And in keeping going and finding a way to be useful now and then. Sometimes peace is way underrated. It is definitely comforting in a way. Sounds a lot like wallowing, but really it's just relaxing, knowing it's going to wash over me, crush me, stop my breath for a few seconds, but then let up a bit, and in the lull I'll take another step. Not fighting... knowing that this is me, somehow I've made this life not at all a good thing to be in, even though I was really lucky in the beginning... to be born smart and healthy and stuff. So, this is my life. If I'm going to feel it no matter what, might as well be useful. Luckily I'm still physically capable of that. I can't let that get away from me. Sometimes in two years or one year or a week, things get better. I think it's a combination of being useful actually doing something for me, and also luck. Sometimes there just stops being as much hurting. Maybe that will happen again. If not, I'll just keep being useful. It doesn't help to think of all I've wasted, or that I should have been more useful. Just concentrate on being useful now the way that I can, and remember... like the look in Mrs. Miller's eyes couple of weeks ago. I've been in the bed and felt that look from me... like pleading and trying to communicate when you can't talk. Even if anyone could do it, I am the one actually there doing it, and that's useful. Anyone fairly strong could reposition someone and look for cues as to whether they were more comfortable or less... but I'm one of the people doing it at that moment, and I can be happy. Because I remember how it is to be so thirsty and desperate for water that it's indescribable... when someone brings it, it's a big relief and big happiness. Same with pain... making it slightly better, or positioned so that you can breathe. I can give someone that rush of relief of a drink of water or less pain or able to breathe. I remember pleading with my eyes, and now I can help, occasionally, when other people do. When I asked Mrs. Miller if she was thirsty, it was like her whole body heaved, and the expression on her face, like, "THANK GOD, YES, I AM SO THIRSTY!!!" and a little whimper "mm hmmm" with the pitch rising at the end... like a yes. I remember that feeling from the bed. It's a nice feeling, almost a joy, to be able to help sometimes. So I'll do that. My life may not be what it should have been, I may not be at all what I should have been or done what I should have done, and I may have been a drain in many ways, but I will be worth something. I may not be nearly enough, but there will be redeeming moments, and I will do/be something. And maybe find the Daily Show funny again someday. (Comment on this)
Wednesday, March 9th, 2005
10:00 am	I've done it again. *sigh* Why have I not gotten the balance between being silent and spewing whiny diarrhea of the mind? I've totally dumped, personally, embarassingly, and unfairly to a bunch of people who I really like. And... if I can't take refuge in gymnastics chat... and get AWAY from my annoying self, well, that would be a real shame. It would be really stupid to take that away from myself. Also, I guess way more than I thought, I think I... worry people. Amd at least to some, I come off as really manipulative and energy sucking. I can totally see that, now. That is the last thing I would have decided to be... I hate that quality in people. But I've done it. oy, this is one of those times. So, if I'm going for a lack of drama and pathos and attention whoriness, the thing to do is not to freak out with self-hatred, but to learn from this and move on. Sometimes you can't repair the damage, and that's life. I hope that I can repair this to some extent, although I'm sure that I've annoyed/alienated/distgusted some people permanently, and I'll just have to live with that. I'm lucky they didn't ban me. I'll just have to straighten up and fly right. And deal with the effects of my whining and stuff. so, yeah, full speed ahead! (Comment on this)
Sunday, February 20th, 2005
4:37 pm	Okay, FUCK helplessness! People have done worse things than I have and screwed up worse than I have and made something good out of it and out of themselves. Both in the society's definition of success kind of way, and in the actually being a contributor kind of way. I'M GOING TO DO THAT. If Shrublet can become president, surely the fact that I was fucked up at 30 won't kill me if I get... er, un fucked up. :-) Dang, I'm old! Being an aide has definitely taught me a lot that I would love to use. That would be a really good use of this bizarre sidetrip in my life. Long term care NEEDS ... something. It's apalling. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
4:24 pm	Several things: I know that my life is not age-appropriate. I wonder if I'm just ... indulging myself? Or seriously crazy? As opposed to my preferred explanation that I'm doing this to get my life back on track, and then I can be normal-ish again. But maybe not. Maybe I'm just defective in emotional makeup, or in character. I wonder if therapy is doing me any good. It does help me survive and gives me some much-needed perspective. Sometimes I think that I should just cut myself off from it and scrape by on my own, if I could. Because it appears that I'll most often be miserable anyway... why waste money trying not to be? Maybe the sleep deprivation threw me into a major depression, somehow? I seriously need a different job. I HATE it that I ever have to choose between giving it my all and having a back that functions. Yeah, when it comes down to it, I have to choose my back over working as fast as I need to there or whatever, but I need a place with less solo lifting of 300lb people and better equipment and more time. As much as I adore Paula and so many of the residents, I hate not being really, really good at my job sometimes, and this one certainly isn't doing my (already messed up) back any good. Damn discs. (Comment on this)
7:48 am	Last night at work... Oy, vey. They have major scheduling problems. It's so important, they should really decide to make the effort to get it right! Of course, we're constantly understaffed, and also they write the schedule in the best of times and the worst of times as if no one ever called in or got sick, and that just isn't the way it is. In my previous life... or whatever, hospital administration, I prided myself on being flexible and cheerful and rolling with the punches. If they wanted me to move and do something else for the day, I would do so cheerfully. I generally believe that if you have to do something anyway, you might as well be cheerful. If you're a bitch about it, you lose most of the "points" that you got for being flexible in the first place! As an aide, though, it is so different for me. It would absolutely show great skill if I could go smoothly from floor to floor, but I can't really. It's like... five times as hard when I'm on an unfamiliar floor. It's not as safe for me, and it's not as safe for the residents either. The ONLY skin tear that I've ever given someone was when I had been an aide all of one week (and not just at that facility, but anywhere!), and they had moved me to D hall where I didn't know anything about the residents, and there was a lovely lady who was a two person transfer, but there was no one to help me, and she was aphasic after a stroke, so she couldn't really give me directions, either. I looked at the care plan, of course, but that is a very poor substitute for knowing how she usually gets from wheelchair to bed. I ended up catching her leg on her wheelchair and giving her a skin tear. It was so preventable..., and it was my fault, of course, but that is one reason that I HATE being put somewhere where I don't know anything about the residents. I'm not sure why this is even more important to me than other people... Maybe it's that with my back pain, I rely on strength and proper technique. There are maybe five "Hoyer lifts" (residents who must be lifted with this contraption.. the Hoyer lift) on this floor, and so between the two aides, we have an elderly person swinging very high off of the ground, and the possibility of a lot going wrong. If something gets funky (their leg is about to get squished in part of it, they're falling to one side, they are grabbing the chain and might cut their hand) I'm sorry, but ergonomics go right out the window and I get under them and do whatever it takes! There's no way I'm letting somebody fall from 7 feet in the air. When I've never worked with the aide or the resident before, of course, a lot happens that's unexpected! I'm getting ahead of myself. Yesterday they moved me to E, and within ten minutes my back was HOWLING. Also, it really sucks to get there early and get your supplies ready and walk through and learn what has changed... who's better, who's worse... generally get really prepared for the INSANE two hours before supper, where you'll be running around like a headless chicken. In those two hours you usually have to clean up, change, and dress about 32 people, give 5 or 6 showers, and try to give fluids to those who can't hold the cup for themselves, search for sheets, search for peri care solution, search for briefs, keep people who can't walk from standing up and falling, keep wandering male residents out of female residents' rooms, try to give a little extra attention to Mrs. B who's husband died last night ( :( :( :( I'll miss him... his death was a surprise to me, even though we always lose a bunch to pneumonia this time of year), and also respond to the miscellaneous requests of all of the residents. So starting out knowing where supplies are to the best of your ability and generally feeling ... not behind yet... is key. After I did all of that on my hall, and even got someone up, they moved me. I didn't know where anything was, they HAVE no garbage bags, they have no pericare spray, ... Arlonda won't work there because, as she says, "it smells like a pe''in Zoo!" And it sucks not to be able to organize your effort whatsoever. I never knew how many more people, big, small, whatever...there were. I was already stressed from just... my life. Usually, even if it's hard, it's a great feeling to go in and conquer work and do a good job. Also, Mrs. Miller is back from the hospital, and I wanted to check in on her a few times. She won't be around long, and I looked in on her before the shift started and she was clearly in such pain. Ugh, anyway, they moved me to E where I didn't know a damn thing, and the nurse is a bitch (even though she likes me) and there were no supplies, and there was SO MUCH potential for injury to the residents just in large part because I didn't know which of their body parts tend to drag or collapse or what have you. Enough venting for now. I'll just add that it wasn't even absolutely necessary that they move me, but the DON decided on a whim not to have two males working a hall, and the nurse wanted me rather than one of the two women working on D. If they don't want two men working on a hall, then DON'T SCHEDULE TWO MEN WORKING ON A HALL! It flabergasts me that they just. don't. get. this. If you don't schedule anyone to work A hall, well, probably you won't have anyone there to work it! DUH! If you schedule two men on a hall, you're going to have two men on the hall. Address it on the next schedule, have a woman come from another hall to take care of the one or two women who object to having a male take care of them, whatever. But it sucks that 1. They ALWAYS take one of us from B hall, leaving the other alone. And 2. it just really sucks to be moved. It bothers me that I'm not the ultimate flexible "team player" in this regard, but I'm just not! (Comment on this)
Saturday, February 19th, 2005
1:52 pm	I'm so glad I have lj...it helps to write. I have to leave for work soon, but basically, here is my perspective that will keep me from jumping off of a bridge for the near future ;-). I am not without mettle. I have done many, many hard things. I totally conquered the job that I had at one point that was, as I referred to it, "paperwork boot camp", and I'm dyslexic(!). Well, this program is a bootcamp of some sort, although I can't quite put my finger on what sort, yet. Maybe an "ability to pay attention to minute details while constantly at the mercy of the whims of some people with hormonal issues.... bootcamp?" I have learned things already. I'm better at CPR. It ALWAYS pays to assume, at first, that there is a good reason. That there's something to be learned from their approach. And, of course, even if you eventually decide that there isn't (other than how to deal with the same type of people), you still have to act as if you're mesmerized by their wisdom. But anyway. I've done physical endurance bootcamp. I've done work work work bootcamp. I've done emotional physical combo bootcamp. I've done academic bootcamp. I can and WILL do this, and after this year I will have a status again. I will be more than a "boomerang child". I have to work hard in all areas, especially in doing exactly what they want of me in this program. Then, in a year, I can maybe like myself, contribute to my family, contribute to society, feel like a good person, experience joy, etc. I CAN DO THIS! (Comment on this)
12:57 pm	explanation for my non-style If anyone's reading, I'm totally aware of my lack of any structure or explanations for anything... It's like... Isolation can be so oppressive, and getting myself to sit down and write something, anything, is so hard. I just have to DO IT! And I'm so short on time.... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA Gotta shower now for work. Hope all's well for a bunch of ljers who I'm thinking of. :-) (2 Comments |Comment on this)
12:41 pm	Why did I become this? I'm sorry that I never comment on others' blogs these days. I really don't feel like I have anything to add. I .... have very few emotional resources. I guess I'll be finished with this program in a year and I can move out of my parents' house and not feel so... failureish for THAT reason, at least. I'm not married, I'm not pretty, I'm not giving them grandchildren. It's more than a shame... I have some huge talents, and huge motivation. There is a lot that I can contribute... but while I'm struggling to stay alive... not so much. I can keep myself alive, but I've GOT to get eating under control. I have had 2 boosts today, which is kind of amazing. There is too much pressure from everywhere in my life. I can't deal, I think. It's paralyzing. I've managed to keep going recently, but I don't take any pleasure in anything anymore. Not even the daily show has made me happy in the past couple of weeks. THAT's really bad! I guess I should think of this as a hard year that I have to slog through and work like hell, and, yeah, maybe there'll be a lot of unavoidable misery, but at the end I'll be... like, a real person again. Maybe on the road to making something of my life. I feel like I'm just a horrible failure... and wonder how this happened. I guess it helps to think that this is temporary. If I work hard, I will be somewhere else in a year. It's not "I'm a failure forever." It's "I messed things up, and am having a difficult year starting to put things together." This nursing program is really stressful. Financially OH MY GOD. With all of the drug tests and physicals and stuff not to mention the predicted costs. Also, they yell at us and treat us like elementary school kids. A couple of weeks ago, I got a not saying that I had to have this medical thing done by April something. Okay, fine. Thinking I had more time, I spend my extra money at the time on another required piece of equipment that I hadn't been able to buy yet. Then, damnit, I got a note that said I had to have it done in three days. It was impossible, as my blood has to be sent to a faraway lab. So... they changed the rules in the middle of the game, and screwed up my budget, and also yelled at me for not having it done on time, and for a week I thought they might kick me out for not having it in by their surprise deadline. I feel like I haven't done anything right in this program... I hate that. Work, and right now this school is full time and so sort of my work... it's very important to me. It is SUCH a downer to think that I may get yelled at any minute. And it would be one thing if it were just yelling. I was a gymnast, I can deal with being yelled at :-). It's that they do kick a number of people out, and I never know if their "You totally suck and we hate you" is just that or if it's soon to be followed by their kicking me out. Fewer than half of the people generally finish the program. I cannot miss one day, and I can't go into a clinical setting sick. When have I EVER gone nine months without getting sick? Never. So I'm scared. If I miss a day, I'm out. Damn, there is just too much stress. Too much that I must do that .... Well, I CAN do it because I MUST. End of story! (Comment on this)
Thursday, February 17th, 2005
12:37 pm	Sleep deprived to the point of insanity. Ah, yes, I remember this feeling. Very, very bad. Thank heavens the bigwigs have a conference in Austin tomorrow and I have the day off. I need it so badly, both to catch up on life stuff like paying bills... and also not having a test tomorrow means that I can actually go to bed (!) tonight for an extended period of sleep. I seriously can't have had much REM sleep at all for well over a week. I have the most awful anxious/depressed/paranoid thing going on, and I really, really need to go to sleep, but I have therapy. Thank heavens I got through school today. Now I have to pick up my paycheck, cash my paycheck, drive an hour to therapy, and drive back. It seems so overwhelming. I almost laughed when I was thinking, "I'm too upseeeeeet... I need to reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeest." Haha, too upset to see the main sane advisor in my life. To fucked up to make it to therapy. Yeah, I don't think that would fly. I don't really feel capable of much thought, for sure. This program that I'm in is kinda fucked up, but workable, but I haven't been handling it optimally. Obviously. The worst thing is that I think I'm developing the reputation for being a bit of a ditz, even if a smart one. Having NO SLEEP makes me clumsier and more forgetful than usual and... everything. I have to be present, as they say, and .... I've got to do better. And I'm too nervous. I dropped this bottle of insulin like four times this morning. Just... jittery and butterfingery. I'll sleep after I get back from therapy, and try to take care of some life things, and tomorrow do productive things that reduce my anxiety, and work on managing time wisely to avoid feeling like rotten llama smegma. I need to both appear more "together", and feel better. For much of the last few weeks, there really have been really distressing things going on, but now it's not outside things, it's my own emotions that are the problem. I will work hard and get better at this. (Comment on this)
Sunday, February 6th, 2005
8:34 pm	Undone ... boy am I... I wonder if I was born this way, kind of annoying? ROBBIE WILLIAMS LYRICS "Come Undone" So unimpressed, but so in awe Such a saint, but such a whore So self-aware, so full of shit So indecisive, so adament I'm contemplating, thinkin' about thinkin' It's overrated, just get another drink and Watch me come undone They're selling razor blades and mirrors in the street I pray when I'm coming down, you'll be asleep If I ever hurt you, your revenge will be so sweet Because I'm scum, and I'm your son I come undone I come undone So rock 'n' roll, so corporate suit So damn ugly, so damn cute So well-trained, so animal So need your love, so fuck you all I'm not scared of dying, I just don't want to If I stop lying, I'll just disappoint you Come undone They're selling razor blades and mirrors in the street Come undone I pray when I'm coming down, you'll be asleep Come undone If I ever hurt you, your revenge will be so sweet Because I'm scum, and I'm your son I come undone So write another ballad, mix it on a Wednesday Sell it on a Thursday buy a yacht on Saturday It's a love song, a love song Do another interview, sing a bunch of lies Tell about celebrities that I despise And sing love songs, we sing love songs so sincere So sincere Come undone They're selling razor blades and mirrors in the street Come undone I pray when I'm coming down, you'll be asleep Come undone The young pretend you're in the clouds above the sea I come undone I am scum Love your son You've gotta love your son Come undone You've gotta love you son Come undone Love your son I am scum I am scum I am scum I am scum I am scum I am scum Very familiar to me... such a bad seed, really. I want to be good, but I'm wasteful... I'm both altruistic and ascetic and wasteful and hedonistic. I was struck by this because someone made a montage to this song, a gym montage. I'm fairly crazy, I guess. I'm not horribly upset about it... I'm just struck by the fact that someone could put into words something so bizarrely me. (Comment on this)
2:01 pm	Mrs. Miller... same fate as her husband, it seems. Two days ago on morning shift she fell. She dislocated her shoulder, broke four ribs, punctured her lung, etc. She's at the hospital about an hour away. I'm going to visit her or her family today. She's so tiny and weak and doesn't eat much, and she has a chest tube that they put in in the ER. I can't imagine that she'll make it back to the nursing home. I need to visit her today to have the best chance of seeing her while she may still be lucid. I don't even know if I'll be able to see her, but I'll go. I don't know what to bring... I doubt she's eating, but chocolate usually goes over very well with her. She adores those little frozen cheesecake bite snacks, and she'll also eat a banana and drink grape juice if it's presented right. I'm guessing she's either unconsious from a brain injury or zonked on pain meds, though. I guess I'll bring a card, and maybe some fruit for her daughters? Oy. so much more to write about. It's horribly ironic that both she and her husband likely will die from falls that made/make their last days excruciatingly painful. Gosh, I'll miss her. Billie Jo's back, and yesterday mostly she was zonked, but I got her to drink a little apple juice, gave her a new "baby" (I think I mentioned the mass kidnapping of babies/bunnies/bears that happened of late, and her baby that she clings to was one of the kidnapped), and she kind of roused and laughed at me a couple of times, and once she got quite pissed when I had to roll her and stuff, and she started fussing at me, kinda barking. I said, "I'm sorry", but I was so happy! You go, Billie Jo! (Comment on this)
Wednesday, February 2nd, 2005
4:39 pm	"Look, then, into thine heart, and write!" Henry Wadsworth Longfellow It's been a really, really long time. For a long while I didn't want to write about work because, frankly, it was really bad. Not just the usual "I'm not equipped to do my job properly, and residents are suffering because of that and other factors, and I'm hurting and exhausted." It was so bad that I was very burned out. I was so burned out that it was difficult to do the job as best I possibly could. It was so hard, and I hated myself for feeling so... as if I were running through molasses. And although I don't think that it showed, I just felt... like I didn't want to be there and I didn't want to clean up this or that or deal with this resident or that one. I was losing my greatest ability, I think. My ability to deal with all of the difficult behavior of people with lots of Alzheimers and various types of dementia and psychiatric disorders WITHOUT TAKING IT PERSONALLY. My ability to make sure that it never got to me... I was just pretty tired, and definitely "sick and tired of being sick and tired." (Thank you, Ozzie Osbourne!) Then, oh, more than a month ago, I was inspired by the quotation that I used as a title, and logged on to write, but lj was in read-only mode. Clearly, the cosmos (or the lj tech people... whatever) was letting me off of the hook. It's really hard to get into writing. I always have all of these thoughts flying around my head, and catching them and making some attempt at organizing them is very tiring at first. I'm going to start writing again. I've cut down on my hours, but the financial pressure contributes to my random "hey, suicide sounds good" moments. Ebay, bay-bee! I'm going to list something TONIGHT! For some reason, I'm like... scared of ebay. Ugh, dork! I can deal with my job... I enjoy it more like I used to, except that I'm afraid that the bitch will be there playing the piano for Sabbath services. It makes me nervous. Also, at the moment, actually, everyone on my hall is very, very sick, on oxygen and... Mrs. Brzeska died, and I miss her so much. There was no local obit. It's so... odd to get to know someone rather intimately in their last years, but never to know what they did for a living or where they grew up or even their ages, often. Some people can express themselves well enough to get that stuff across if they want, and others not so much. With Mrs. Brzeska, I never wanted to ask questions that would frustrate her if she couldn't answer, and with other people sometimes you just sense a reserve, and it seems inappropriate to ask. On her birthday last year, her kids gave her a framed photo of her husband as a very young man. She got so upset. I'm sure it came up, as it often does with people who's spouses have died, where is he/she? I guess her children told her that he had died, and she cried the whole next day, and said that her husband had died the night before. She was delicate emotionally... I could tell that she was smart and sharp, and it was so frustrating to her not to be able to find the word that she was looking for. Anyway, I miss her so much. Billie Jo... I'm afraid that she has died since I was there this weekend, but I'm kind of scared to call Arlonda or Paula to ask. I want to see her before she dies, and if her daughter can't come and be with her, I would love to sit with her if I'm not in class. Losing Sandra was so hard, and Billie Jo... Gosh. I'm going to call Arlonda now, actually. She may have just gotten the residents to supper and have a moment to talk. More later! (Comment on this)
Tuesday, January 11th, 2005
9:47 pm	"How do you document real life, when like keeps getting more like fiction each day?" First: the woman who ... invaded me... for most of my childhood was playing the organ again for the residents' sabbath service. I find it hard not to hate all things prissy and Adventisty because, well, she's quite prissy and Adventisty, and because there's that provincial, self-centered quality that this town has about it, as do many places that are essentially "Holy Cities" of any religion. There are a lot of people who otherwise wouldn't rile me up who I really have to struggle not to loathe because of their prissily Adventist we-are-the-only-right-way ness. Anyway, at least she didn't seek me out this time, and I stayed far away from the services, which wasn't easy. I feel like such a ... wus. Billie Jo was totally leaning over in her Geri chair, and I totaly wanted to go prop her up with pillows, but I kind of had to do a "drive/run-by propping." Slink in, prop prop prop, slink off even faster. Also, Billie Jo's "baby" is missing, as are various other stuffed bears, dogs, rabbits, and baby dolls. It's like a mass kidnapping. Perhaps this is only somewhat morbidly funny if you've seen the odd scene that is my wresting the cutely dressed stuffed bunny from Ada's death grip before supper, and reassuring her (as we nearly rip it appart) that he's just going to day care to eat baby food, so that she can eat her food. She, like a number of other residents, is distracted by trying to feed their pureed food to their stuffed animal or doll. As the doll/bear/whatever does not actually swallow, this takes quite a while! For some people to eat, sadly, I am required to confiscate various animals and dolls and take them to Day Care for Distracting Babies aka the employee table out of sight of the residents. Not that we're allowed to eat during residents' meals, but... theoretically, if we had a break, it would be there. Usually the only ones in chairs in the employee area are abandoned/forgotten "babies", though. It's oddly funny in a gallows humor kind of way. Hey, sometimes residents get spirited out of the dining room by zealous employees before I can return their charges! I always collect and return them, though! And... get ready for your head to spin... I am so awed by the bravery of the young women on the Jane Pauley show this morning. I tell myself that my "perps", so to speak, don't have access to children, and that what I have to say wouldn't get to court/wouldn't lead to a conviction,and would alienate me from my entire community of origin, which, at the moment, is about all I have.... But you know, that sounds cowardly as all hell. Major kudos to Becca and MK. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
4:06 pm	A lot has been going on... To sum it up: my family left town all too briefly, and I went into a massive cleaning FRENZY, during which I allowed myself little diversion, little sleep, and almost no computer. I had a lot to do. I didn't get it done, which su--ucks! Now - meh. I'm anxious about everything, about school starting and not yet having the $$ that I need... about being a bad lj-ist (which is ridiculous, but it is something that I enjoy so much :-)). The woman who told her daughters that I, personally, made her breasts sag died on Saturday morning. I really, really miss her. The funeral is in Oklahoma, too, so... nothing local. I wasn't expecting it, really. I mean, these people can always die, but generally they go through a period of "actively dying" or at least a marked decline. She was very uncomfortable, but the week before she'd been wheeling herself around the facility while she whimpered... I just wasn't expecting it yet. She was so much fun and so funny. And perhaps SLIGHTLY a bit disinhibited, lol. I remember one day when Mrs. Wing's legs propped up on the legrests of her wheelchair were blocking Mrs. Brzeska in to the dining table, and Mrs Brzeska just took her fork and started poking, HARD at Mrs Wing's legs. Of course I did one of my flying leaps "dooooooooooooooooooooooooooooon't!!!!!", but I couldn't help laughing afterwards. And at night when she was irritable, she would occasionally start kicking someone for little or no reason. So you see "a grandotherly person", with her knee high stockings and flats and long dress, grit her teeth and advance in her wheelchair and KICK Mr. N with said stockinged, prim little flat covered feet. It was always kind of monty pythonesque in the... absurdly funny category. Even when she got mad at me and called me a whore or a heifer, or "you're bastards, ALL O YA!" "eeeeeeeeeee (whimper) sons o BITCHES!" Anyway, I miss her. :-( (Comment on this)