It's been several months since I've posted, and it's kind of weird to think about that. Nothing has really been going on though.
Work is work. I battle apathy and terror. Depression and mediocre days war for my attention. My nightmares come back but they're different and beginning to fade. Though I wake up angry many days. My counselor has been on maternity leave since Thanksgiving-ish. I'm still single. YoungLife has become a distant memory and a struggle and a point of hurt, all at the same time. Friends seem to be a thing of the past for me.
I'm anxious in this period of waiting. I'm antsy. I feel something coming, but I don't know what it is.
Still, through all of these things, I hope there is something good coming. The past few months I went from things scheduled every day, being busy with YoungLife, work, counseling, piano lessons, and various other activities down to nothing but work. Spread out days of work, no less. I was supposed to go to a weekend getaway with some friends but they cancelled. I was supposed to go on a leader's retreat for YoungLife, but I couldn't convince myself to go, and then there was a funeral that ended up happening the day we were supposed to leave. I'm not sad I didn't go to that, because I just didn't want to. I don't want to force relationships with people who keep hurting me but that is stupid because then I'm all alone in the world.
Friends have been incredibly flakey lately, not even answering my texts. Canceling plans. Otherwise seeming to ignore me unless they need something. I don't know how I get here over and over again. Friends that say "we should hang out again!" "I'm so glad we met because we just get each other!" and other things, but then they don't answer texts and I don't see them. Maybe it's my phone that doesn't work? Maybe I'm the annoying friend that people try to avoid and only hang out with once in awhile because I'm so exhausting. Maybe I'm boring or have nothing to add to the conversation. Maybe I don't understand how the world works so it seems pointless to try to talk to me because it doesn't get them anywhere.
I'm a quarter of a century old and I'm utterly alone in the world. I don't understand. It's not for lack of trying. I joined YoungLife in hopes that I could make friends with leaders and make a difference in the lives of high school kids where I didn't have any help at that time. My teens answer half a conversation and then leave me on read before we make any plans. I pick up extra hours at work, try to arrange my schedule to be able to hang out with others but they cancel last minute and refuse to help me when I ask for a returned favor. My brother can't be bothered to answer my messages. My parents answer, but sometimes not for several days.
I DON'T UNDERSTAND ANY OF IT!!!
We're after the holidays, people should be slowing down and getting back into their routines. Surely somebody somewhere needs some company for something.
I'm too old to be upset and literally crying about these things. Yet, I found myself on the phone crying to my mom several times in the past couple of weeks.
Maybe I need to go back to counseling.
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Sunday, January 27, 2019
Thursday, February 2, 2017
New Culture
The floor I work on consists of all Women's health and the related fields. We have Labor and Delivery, Newborn Nursery, NICU (my unit), and the women specific Med/Surg floor (specifically for C Sections, hysterectomies, and various other health troubles specific to women). In other words, this floor has way too much estrogen. Seriously, WAY TOO MUCH!!!
Our floor, regardless of the unit, is known throughout the hospital and town for being very cliquey, having troubles with new hires (experienced and non-experienced employees), and difficulties with doctors.
Having experienced many of the troubles myself, I am attempting to change the culture for our new people. I have met 3 of them. We have 1 lady who is training on night (already did orientation on days) and is from a med/surg floor in our hospital. She's really sweet and I think we will get along just fine. We have another new grad gal, who is still orienting on days. She seems very excited and eager to start working. I think she'll be fun. I hope so. There is one lady who is going to be PRN, so I'm thinking she's already been a NICU nurse somewhere else and likely has another job. I guess we'll see how that goes. There are 2 others that I have not met and one of them is a guy!
Oh. My. Gosh. You would not believe the ugly things some of the girls were saying. They went off for hours about how the ICU nurse that started and oriented when I did left and so they are quite convinced that's what's going to happen with this guy as well. I didn't have the heart to tell them that the 4 girls that were bitching about her are the reasons she left. That ICU nurse absolutely loved the work, but she knew she could not ultimately handle the people on the unit, so she decided to go PRN instead of being miserable.
These girls were saying that this guy nurse won't be able to help with breastfeeding, that the parents will be uncomfortable with him being their nurse, and also that he won't fit in. You know what? Guy nurses are often aware that moms may not be comfortable being taught to breastfeed from a guy. Guys are also able and willing to tell moms that and offer to have one of the lady nurses help. Guys are better on their feet with critical kids, especially an experienced ICU nurse (as he is). He's also been an ICU charge nurse FOR YEARS!!! He's great with dealing with difficult situations, uncooperative parents, and the ridiculous hormonal troubles that come along with so many women in one area. I think he could bring in some rational thought to a regularly touchy-feelly environment that has cat fights on a regular basis because apparently we are all in fucking middle school.
I'm working on treating these girls as people, talking with them as if they were/are the practicing nurse for the day, and I'm trying to talk to them about life. You know, small talk kinds of things. How are you liking it here? When do you come to nights? Are you married? What do you like to do? All the crap that you have to start off with to break the ice. When I was new, I had to ask all those questions, nobody welcomed me in that way (except the couple of people who I had shadowed, which is why they shadow, everybody loves them!)
Maybe if at least one person accepts them and brings them into the group, they won't feel outcast and they won't feel as though nobody wants them. I want them. I think they will do great. It's a great job, fun work, and we make a difference in the lives of these kids and parents every day. I didn't feel like I was making a difference when I was on med/surg floors because some people didn't want help and other times I was too busy to be any good to anyone.
Hopefully everything will turn out great.
Hey, bonus! I'm making friends on my own unit finally! I am still not in with the mean girls. However, I'm scheduling myself with the other more experienced nurses on nights when I like the charge nurse and the whole night is more fun, relaxed, and more comfortable. Even if some of the not-nice girls are on, I have allies. It certainly helps life and work run a lot smoother. And, in the process, I made more friends. People are finally starting to open up to me and include me in their plans.
P.S. I emailed my master's program for Nurse-Midwifery. Turns out that if you go to school for an extra 2-3 semesters, you end up with a doctorate. I'm seriously considering starting school back up. Even if the commitment is only for 2 years and I think about the doctorate as I am in school and deciding if I can finish it. I guess we'll see.
P.P.S. I started reading Praying for You Future Husband and, in the process, I'm getting encouraged and praying a lot for myself. It's written by Robin Jones Gunn and Tricia Goyer. They have prayers for the guy and for yourself at the end of each chapter, they go over their own personal stories, as well as stories of various other women. I'm really enjoying the book and the process. I don't know, maybe years down the road G-d has somebody in store for me that can handle all of this mess.
Our floor, regardless of the unit, is known throughout the hospital and town for being very cliquey, having troubles with new hires (experienced and non-experienced employees), and difficulties with doctors.
Having experienced many of the troubles myself, I am attempting to change the culture for our new people. I have met 3 of them. We have 1 lady who is training on night (already did orientation on days) and is from a med/surg floor in our hospital. She's really sweet and I think we will get along just fine. We have another new grad gal, who is still orienting on days. She seems very excited and eager to start working. I think she'll be fun. I hope so. There is one lady who is going to be PRN, so I'm thinking she's already been a NICU nurse somewhere else and likely has another job. I guess we'll see how that goes. There are 2 others that I have not met and one of them is a guy!
Oh. My. Gosh. You would not believe the ugly things some of the girls were saying. They went off for hours about how the ICU nurse that started and oriented when I did left and so they are quite convinced that's what's going to happen with this guy as well. I didn't have the heart to tell them that the 4 girls that were bitching about her are the reasons she left. That ICU nurse absolutely loved the work, but she knew she could not ultimately handle the people on the unit, so she decided to go PRN instead of being miserable.
These girls were saying that this guy nurse won't be able to help with breastfeeding, that the parents will be uncomfortable with him being their nurse, and also that he won't fit in. You know what? Guy nurses are often aware that moms may not be comfortable being taught to breastfeed from a guy. Guys are also able and willing to tell moms that and offer to have one of the lady nurses help. Guys are better on their feet with critical kids, especially an experienced ICU nurse (as he is). He's also been an ICU charge nurse FOR YEARS!!! He's great with dealing with difficult situations, uncooperative parents, and the ridiculous hormonal troubles that come along with so many women in one area. I think he could bring in some rational thought to a regularly touchy-feelly environment that has cat fights on a regular basis because apparently we are all in fucking middle school.
I'm working on treating these girls as people, talking with them as if they were/are the practicing nurse for the day, and I'm trying to talk to them about life. You know, small talk kinds of things. How are you liking it here? When do you come to nights? Are you married? What do you like to do? All the crap that you have to start off with to break the ice. When I was new, I had to ask all those questions, nobody welcomed me in that way (except the couple of people who I had shadowed, which is why they shadow, everybody loves them!)
Maybe if at least one person accepts them and brings them into the group, they won't feel outcast and they won't feel as though nobody wants them. I want them. I think they will do great. It's a great job, fun work, and we make a difference in the lives of these kids and parents every day. I didn't feel like I was making a difference when I was on med/surg floors because some people didn't want help and other times I was too busy to be any good to anyone.
Hopefully everything will turn out great.
Hey, bonus! I'm making friends on my own unit finally! I am still not in with the mean girls. However, I'm scheduling myself with the other more experienced nurses on nights when I like the charge nurse and the whole night is more fun, relaxed, and more comfortable. Even if some of the not-nice girls are on, I have allies. It certainly helps life and work run a lot smoother. And, in the process, I made more friends. People are finally starting to open up to me and include me in their plans.
P.S. I emailed my master's program for Nurse-Midwifery. Turns out that if you go to school for an extra 2-3 semesters, you end up with a doctorate. I'm seriously considering starting school back up. Even if the commitment is only for 2 years and I think about the doctorate as I am in school and deciding if I can finish it. I guess we'll see.
P.P.S. I started reading Praying for You Future Husband and, in the process, I'm getting encouraged and praying a lot for myself. It's written by Robin Jones Gunn and Tricia Goyer. They have prayers for the guy and for yourself at the end of each chapter, they go over their own personal stories, as well as stories of various other women. I'm really enjoying the book and the process. I don't know, maybe years down the road G-d has somebody in store for me that can handle all of this mess.
Thursday, November 17, 2016
Full Moon Madness
It's been 2-3 nights since the huge full moon occurred. Regardless, the children in the Big House have not gotten said memo. I only had two babies last night and they were being so naughty!!!
I was running behind all night long and not for lack of trying. One kid takes frickin forever to assess and feed because there are often unforseen complications such as him puking every. single. assessment. because he gets so worked up and upset that he doesn't even make sound when crying and thus provides enough pressure on his stomach to then throw up. *Ugh, buddy, let's talk about this!* This phrase is uttered more times than should be allowed in an attempt to get him to chill out. Surprisingly, he's more cooperative for me than for anyone else. *facepalm*
My other kid was on a vent, but absolutely delightful. He's so sweet and his family is so kind and calm. I adore this family/kid. However, he's getting sick. So, after being late from my first kid taking waaaaaay too long to eat and not having a tube to be able to tube the rest of the feed, I started in on this kid. Shortly after sitting down to begin charting on both little pip-squeaks, the NNP came in and I got informed the kid needed blood cultures taken stat. Which means IV sticks to get a totally sterile sample of blood, besides whatever terrible thing has decided to begin growing in this poor little kid's body. First IV got placed no problem, but no blood return to be able to get for cultures. So on to second IV. Got that, no problem and got blood. Antibiotics started and I'm already late for the first kid's second assessment/feeding.
*sigh*
The whole night ran behind after that. Try as I might, I could not get caught up on charting completely until day shift arrived. I was 10 minutes to clock out so that I could chart everything that happened.
I finally got home, got showered, and dressed into new pj's straight out of the dryer. Called in my puppy to sleep with me for the day and as soon as I laid down and petted her, I realized she was covered in some mysterious, dried, likely-dead-animal's guts type substance. So, at 10 a.m. after a frustrating night-shift, I walked my backyard twice in hopes of finding whatever it is she rolled in. Then proceeded to give her a bath. She was pissed, but hey, I'm not letting her gallivant about in my house and all over my bed in some dead creatures guts. GROSS!
Dog's bath done, another change of pajamas, scrubbing my arms up to my elbows and aromatherapy diffuser turned on, I fell asleep.
I woke up 5 hours later, and 2 hours earlier than I needed to, because of nightmares. Nightmares about work, nightmares about family, nightmares about past events. My subconscious must be trying to tell me something, but I'm not getting overworked. I think it was just a stressful shift, my family all bailed on me (except for mom) in every way possible (Thanksgiving, both rape cases, you name it), and I'm still battling memories of exboyfriend and exfiance. I would have worded the last few sentences differently, I don't normally use rape in such a blunt term when talking about those two assholes and the countless number of times I have been abused at their hands, but I'm in a no-nonsense kind of mood right now.
Tomorrow night is Newbie's Night Out with the other new girls on my unit. I'm so excited I can't even tell you! I've been looking forward to this night, and attempting to plan it for months. I kid you not. So, for it to be so close is a wonderful feeling. I'll let you know how it goes!
Good news about last night's shift is that I have made friends (work friend status) with the respiratory therapists, many of the NNP's, and so many others besides the regular nurses. Plus, I got to have my favorite charge nurse on last night!!! I tell you what, she makes the shift so much better, just by being there. But she listens when I have concerns, she believes my "nursing judgement" which is little more than babysitter judgement at this point, and she helps us out. She agreed to help me out with tonight's assignments and not putting my two kids together until first kid learns to not take so long and second kid starts to feel better. I wish she were charge again tonight... ah well, I'm making friends with people the other "regular" staff has difficulties with. Thing is, they have difficulties with a lot of people, and I think it's because of the "regular" staff, not the others. Ya know what I mean? That's how it rolls with a clique mentality. Meanwhile, I'll be friends with everyone and people on other units have already begun requesting me by name. So I'm good with that.
I was running behind all night long and not for lack of trying. One kid takes frickin forever to assess and feed because there are often unforseen complications such as him puking every. single. assessment. because he gets so worked up and upset that he doesn't even make sound when crying and thus provides enough pressure on his stomach to then throw up. *Ugh, buddy, let's talk about this!* This phrase is uttered more times than should be allowed in an attempt to get him to chill out. Surprisingly, he's more cooperative for me than for anyone else. *facepalm*
My other kid was on a vent, but absolutely delightful. He's so sweet and his family is so kind and calm. I adore this family/kid. However, he's getting sick. So, after being late from my first kid taking waaaaaay too long to eat and not having a tube to be able to tube the rest of the feed, I started in on this kid. Shortly after sitting down to begin charting on both little pip-squeaks, the NNP came in and I got informed the kid needed blood cultures taken stat. Which means IV sticks to get a totally sterile sample of blood, besides whatever terrible thing has decided to begin growing in this poor little kid's body. First IV got placed no problem, but no blood return to be able to get for cultures. So on to second IV. Got that, no problem and got blood. Antibiotics started and I'm already late for the first kid's second assessment/feeding.
*sigh*
The whole night ran behind after that. Try as I might, I could not get caught up on charting completely until day shift arrived. I was 10 minutes to clock out so that I could chart everything that happened.
I finally got home, got showered, and dressed into new pj's straight out of the dryer. Called in my puppy to sleep with me for the day and as soon as I laid down and petted her, I realized she was covered in some mysterious, dried, likely-dead-animal's guts type substance. So, at 10 a.m. after a frustrating night-shift, I walked my backyard twice in hopes of finding whatever it is she rolled in. Then proceeded to give her a bath. She was pissed, but hey, I'm not letting her gallivant about in my house and all over my bed in some dead creatures guts. GROSS!
Dog's bath done, another change of pajamas, scrubbing my arms up to my elbows and aromatherapy diffuser turned on, I fell asleep.
I woke up 5 hours later, and 2 hours earlier than I needed to, because of nightmares. Nightmares about work, nightmares about family, nightmares about past events. My subconscious must be trying to tell me something, but I'm not getting overworked. I think it was just a stressful shift, my family all bailed on me (except for mom) in every way possible (Thanksgiving, both rape cases, you name it), and I'm still battling memories of exboyfriend and exfiance. I would have worded the last few sentences differently, I don't normally use rape in such a blunt term when talking about those two assholes and the countless number of times I have been abused at their hands, but I'm in a no-nonsense kind of mood right now.
Tomorrow night is Newbie's Night Out with the other new girls on my unit. I'm so excited I can't even tell you! I've been looking forward to this night, and attempting to plan it for months. I kid you not. So, for it to be so close is a wonderful feeling. I'll let you know how it goes!
Good news about last night's shift is that I have made friends (work friend status) with the respiratory therapists, many of the NNP's, and so many others besides the regular nurses. Plus, I got to have my favorite charge nurse on last night!!! I tell you what, she makes the shift so much better, just by being there. But she listens when I have concerns, she believes my "nursing judgement" which is little more than babysitter judgement at this point, and she helps us out. She agreed to help me out with tonight's assignments and not putting my two kids together until first kid learns to not take so long and second kid starts to feel better. I wish she were charge again tonight... ah well, I'm making friends with people the other "regular" staff has difficulties with. Thing is, they have difficulties with a lot of people, and I think it's because of the "regular" staff, not the others. Ya know what I mean? That's how it rolls with a clique mentality. Meanwhile, I'll be friends with everyone and people on other units have already begun requesting me by name. So I'm good with that.
Monday, November 14, 2016
Info Blockage
A problem I have run across, and recently discovered the other new girls are experiencing as well, is that there is a lack of communication to the newbies.
Depending on who we talk to, we are given 15 different answers to the same question that we didn't have until someone told us we needed to do something different.
I was called in for 2 extra shifts one week, and they were day shifts. So I missed the night/weekend differential that I would normally get, and I worked an extra day that week. Normally, when we get called in for a shift that was not scheduled, we get an extra $250 for that shift because we came in when we weren't expecting to. I didn't know that until I ran in to night shift nurses that told me to ask about it. I asked about it and was denied the money because somebody in HR decided that I was working my "normal" shifts, just switched times. Okay, when you get called to come in at 0630, in order to be there at 0700, that's called GETTING CALLED IN. That is not a normal shift. Then getting texted at 1130 p.m. that night to come in for another day shift, that was not scheduled, is also not normal. Somewhere, there is a disconnect and I suspect it lies with the charge nurse that called me in for both shifts...
A few days ago, I got called in at 1901 (7:01 p.m., and shortly after the start of the night shift) to come in and go to the pediatrics floor. I got an email saying that I got the $250 for that shift, for some reason.
I emailed our DON, but the way it was explained makes little to no sense and I think HR doesn't understand what happened and all of the charge nurses that we keep having during these situation are charge nurses that don't normally act as charge so they aren't used to the strange problems that occur, like random call-in pay.
Besides this, I learned that I wasn't supposed to get floated the other night when I went to be a patient sitter. I learned this from a few other charge nurses that are normally charge nurses. I didn't even know it was a rule that I'm not supposed to get floated for 6 months!!!
One of the other new girls is struggling with the rules too. We have a little paper you can sign, then sign up for an extra shift or two within a pay period. IF you sign this paper, sign up for the shifts, and get to work all of you scheduled and extra shifts, then you get $400 each of the extra shifts (1-2 per pay period). Score! Right? Thing is, you can work all of your scheduled and extra shifts, but if you are given a low census for even one shift that pay period, the extra money is denied and all of the extra shifts you worked count as regular pay. So, it's a bit of a gamble, but the risk is way lower when we are in summer and there are tons of babies on the unit and everyone is working 3-4 extra shifts a week.
The new girl got told she needed to sign up for these extra pay shifts, without being told the stipulation of how to not get the extra money. She was volun-told to stay home one night (after she had already arrived to work), even though there were other girls who had wanted to stay home and she wanted to work. So, she found out that she does not get her extra money and that all of her extra work days were a waste because they called her off.
A similar charge nurse surfaces amidst all of these troubles, but I don't want to go starting troubles where there were none. I'm not going to fight my aunt on the extra pay days, but I might go ask her if all of us new girls could be given information on all of the rules and extra things that we are supposed to do with our jobs because the information that we are not being told is coming back to bite us all in the ass.
Speaking of which, we have these blood tests that get sent to another lab. When sending the tests, we have to fill out some form with a bunch of info about the kid we are testing. Nobody ever told me that it couldn't be done in blue ink, and could only be written in black ink. We got a mass email and signs up ALL OVER THE UNIT specifying that the form must be written in black and yada, yada, yada. I know people probably don't know it was me, but they might. Everyone knows I'm new, so I'm not too concerned about it. Still, I'm irritated for getting shamed for things that we were never taught.
Whatever, I'm pretty much just rolling with it. I certainly don't get nearly as embarrassed as I used to. This is another unfortunate side effect of being constantly humiliated by exfiance, exboyfriend, and several other people who used to be friends and are now confused as to why I don't talk to them anymore. It's a mystery really.*** (*Heavy sarcasm there*)
Depending on who we talk to, we are given 15 different answers to the same question that we didn't have until someone told us we needed to do something different.
I was called in for 2 extra shifts one week, and they were day shifts. So I missed the night/weekend differential that I would normally get, and I worked an extra day that week. Normally, when we get called in for a shift that was not scheduled, we get an extra $250 for that shift because we came in when we weren't expecting to. I didn't know that until I ran in to night shift nurses that told me to ask about it. I asked about it and was denied the money because somebody in HR decided that I was working my "normal" shifts, just switched times. Okay, when you get called to come in at 0630, in order to be there at 0700, that's called GETTING CALLED IN. That is not a normal shift. Then getting texted at 1130 p.m. that night to come in for another day shift, that was not scheduled, is also not normal. Somewhere, there is a disconnect and I suspect it lies with the charge nurse that called me in for both shifts...
A few days ago, I got called in at 1901 (7:01 p.m., and shortly after the start of the night shift) to come in and go to the pediatrics floor. I got an email saying that I got the $250 for that shift, for some reason.
I emailed our DON, but the way it was explained makes little to no sense and I think HR doesn't understand what happened and all of the charge nurses that we keep having during these situation are charge nurses that don't normally act as charge so they aren't used to the strange problems that occur, like random call-in pay.
Besides this, I learned that I wasn't supposed to get floated the other night when I went to be a patient sitter. I learned this from a few other charge nurses that are normally charge nurses. I didn't even know it was a rule that I'm not supposed to get floated for 6 months!!!
One of the other new girls is struggling with the rules too. We have a little paper you can sign, then sign up for an extra shift or two within a pay period. IF you sign this paper, sign up for the shifts, and get to work all of you scheduled and extra shifts, then you get $400 each of the extra shifts (1-2 per pay period). Score! Right? Thing is, you can work all of your scheduled and extra shifts, but if you are given a low census for even one shift that pay period, the extra money is denied and all of the extra shifts you worked count as regular pay. So, it's a bit of a gamble, but the risk is way lower when we are in summer and there are tons of babies on the unit and everyone is working 3-4 extra shifts a week.
The new girl got told she needed to sign up for these extra pay shifts, without being told the stipulation of how to not get the extra money. She was volun-told to stay home one night (after she had already arrived to work), even though there were other girls who had wanted to stay home and she wanted to work. So, she found out that she does not get her extra money and that all of her extra work days were a waste because they called her off.
A similar charge nurse surfaces amidst all of these troubles, but I don't want to go starting troubles where there were none. I'm not going to fight my aunt on the extra pay days, but I might go ask her if all of us new girls could be given information on all of the rules and extra things that we are supposed to do with our jobs because the information that we are not being told is coming back to bite us all in the ass.
Speaking of which, we have these blood tests that get sent to another lab. When sending the tests, we have to fill out some form with a bunch of info about the kid we are testing. Nobody ever told me that it couldn't be done in blue ink, and could only be written in black ink. We got a mass email and signs up ALL OVER THE UNIT specifying that the form must be written in black and yada, yada, yada. I know people probably don't know it was me, but they might. Everyone knows I'm new, so I'm not too concerned about it. Still, I'm irritated for getting shamed for things that we were never taught.
Whatever, I'm pretty much just rolling with it. I certainly don't get nearly as embarrassed as I used to. This is another unfortunate side effect of being constantly humiliated by exfiance, exboyfriend, and several other people who used to be friends and are now confused as to why I don't talk to them anymore. It's a mystery really.*** (*Heavy sarcasm there*)
Wednesday, October 19, 2016
Cross-Training
A beautiful perk to working at a small hospital is being able to ask to cross-train into other units without getting hired on with them as a PRN employee. I asked about a week ago to be able to start training on Postpartum or Labor and Delivery. For those of you that work L&D, or many others of you, y'all know how many certifications and training you have to have in order to be able to be an L&D nurse. As such, I was told that it was too difficult to train a nurse as an L&D RN, unless they are willing to work there full time. Seeing as I am absolutely content and excited to be full-time in NICU, I was completely okay with not doing L&D and sticking with postpartum.
Last night, turns out it was the perfect time to ask to cross-train because we had a low census last night! I showed up, scrubbed in, and looked at my assignment sheet only to find that "Hey, you've been floated to Postpartum!" "Hey, alright! I'll see y'all later!" I said cheerily as I walked my butt right back out that door and down the hall to L&D.
Y'all, I was mildly aprehensive about working on PP (postpartum), because my clinical experience in that area absolutely sucked. I was laughed at, to my face, for a few of my rookie mistakes. Now, keep in mind that this was my first night of clinicals on postpartum, that particular night, and I also didn't make a big deal about anything, I was simply asking for an experienced set of eyes.
The thing I wanted them to see? Well, I wanted a nurse to look at a baby I was checking on because the mom asked why the kid was purple. I did a short assessment to make sure the child was warm and not seeming like it was fixin' to go meet Jesus. Then I calmly (it was a fake calm for the mama's sake), walked to the nurses station and said something to the effect of, "So, know that this is my first day on this unit and the child looks fine. However, the mom is wondering why the baby is purple."
Legit, this is damn near exactly what I said.
Apparently the disclaimer that came before the "purple baby" part didn't matter at all because two nurses jumped up and legit ran into the room. I get it, they were concerned. They checked the kid out and decidedly told me, and everyone else on the fucking floor, that the baby's color was simply due to the purple pain on the wall reflecting back onto the baby. So, in order to fix said problem, the baby should be looked at with the room lighting fully on. Okay, makes sense.
I apologized profusely and they told me it was no big deal and that they would rather run into a room because of a concern or question I had, than for me or anybody else to keep quiet about anything. They said this a mere 5 seconds before recounting the story to my clinical instructor and every single person that made their presence within 25 feet of them. As they told the story (incorrectly, I might add, as they embellished different things with each retelling), and proceeded to point at me and laugh. I shit you not. They seriously pointed at me and laughed.
For nurses who I listened bitch about constantly being short-staffed because they could not retain any of their new-hires, whether new grads or transfers from other hospitals/counties/states, they seriously made fun of a nursing student right in front of her face. And to their coworker who just so happened to be the nursing student's clinical instructor! SERIOUSLY!!! And you ladies wonder why nobody wants to join you on your floor... really? You have no fucking clue? Can I clue you in any???!!!???
Regardless, I survived the day and never had to go back to that stupid floor. It did, however, turn me off to the idea of working in postpartum.
...Until I came here. I met the postpartum nurses and talked to Mema, who was a postpartum nurse when they were short-staffed, and I decided to at least try it. Even if I hated the job, I figure it's something to help me in case I ever have to be floated somewhere, so I can work instead of being sent home, without pay, for a low census of NICU babies.
You know what? I actually ended up loving the night. I had a great nurse who is normally in the Newborn Nursery. So, once we were finished with our first assessment, we went back to the nursery and snuggled babies who were waiting until their feeding times, so their moms could sleep as much as possible during the night. It was beautiful! Plus, I found some gals to come out dancing with me!!! Since the NICU girls don't want to go line-dancing... and they don't actually seem to want to do a whole lot of dancing at all... I found some people to go with me!
Don't get me wrong, I will still do my absolute best to hang out with the NICU girls, doing what it is they want to do. I really do want to be able to spend time with them, get to know them, and bond with them so that we can all have some support on this tough road. However, I still have some desires to go out dancing and go to the country music places, and even have a few drinks every once in awhile! Goodness, I'm not looking to get blacked out drunk, but I want to enjoy a couple drinks with some fun girls, out in a place where I can dance in a line with a whole bunch of other single girls that I don't know from Eve. I can't explain it, but I'm not ready to leave that part of college life just yet. It's a good stress relief for me and I will stick to my rule about not giving my number out at bars.
For goodness sake, I'm in a place with a lot of southern guys and I just want to dance with a few of these great smelling, cutie pie guys. Is that a crime?
Long story short, I am working on getting cross-trained in Postpartum. I thought I would hate it, but it ended up being a lovely surprise, especially if I need to be floated. Plus, maybe they will let me pick up some extra shift PRN!!!
Last night, turns out it was the perfect time to ask to cross-train because we had a low census last night! I showed up, scrubbed in, and looked at my assignment sheet only to find that "Hey, you've been floated to Postpartum!" "Hey, alright! I'll see y'all later!" I said cheerily as I walked my butt right back out that door and down the hall to L&D.
Y'all, I was mildly aprehensive about working on PP (postpartum), because my clinical experience in that area absolutely sucked. I was laughed at, to my face, for a few of my rookie mistakes. Now, keep in mind that this was my first night of clinicals on postpartum, that particular night, and I also didn't make a big deal about anything, I was simply asking for an experienced set of eyes.
The thing I wanted them to see? Well, I wanted a nurse to look at a baby I was checking on because the mom asked why the kid was purple. I did a short assessment to make sure the child was warm and not seeming like it was fixin' to go meet Jesus. Then I calmly (it was a fake calm for the mama's sake), walked to the nurses station and said something to the effect of, "So, know that this is my first day on this unit and the child looks fine. However, the mom is wondering why the baby is purple."
Legit, this is damn near exactly what I said.
Apparently the disclaimer that came before the "purple baby" part didn't matter at all because two nurses jumped up and legit ran into the room. I get it, they were concerned. They checked the kid out and decidedly told me, and everyone else on the fucking floor, that the baby's color was simply due to the purple pain on the wall reflecting back onto the baby. So, in order to fix said problem, the baby should be looked at with the room lighting fully on. Okay, makes sense.
I apologized profusely and they told me it was no big deal and that they would rather run into a room because of a concern or question I had, than for me or anybody else to keep quiet about anything. They said this a mere 5 seconds before recounting the story to my clinical instructor and every single person that made their presence within 25 feet of them. As they told the story (incorrectly, I might add, as they embellished different things with each retelling), and proceeded to point at me and laugh. I shit you not. They seriously pointed at me and laughed.
For nurses who I listened bitch about constantly being short-staffed because they could not retain any of their new-hires, whether new grads or transfers from other hospitals/counties/states, they seriously made fun of a nursing student right in front of her face. And to their coworker who just so happened to be the nursing student's clinical instructor! SERIOUSLY!!! And you ladies wonder why nobody wants to join you on your floor... really? You have no fucking clue? Can I clue you in any???!!!???
Regardless, I survived the day and never had to go back to that stupid floor. It did, however, turn me off to the idea of working in postpartum.
...Until I came here. I met the postpartum nurses and talked to Mema, who was a postpartum nurse when they were short-staffed, and I decided to at least try it. Even if I hated the job, I figure it's something to help me in case I ever have to be floated somewhere, so I can work instead of being sent home, without pay, for a low census of NICU babies.
You know what? I actually ended up loving the night. I had a great nurse who is normally in the Newborn Nursery. So, once we were finished with our first assessment, we went back to the nursery and snuggled babies who were waiting until their feeding times, so their moms could sleep as much as possible during the night. It was beautiful! Plus, I found some gals to come out dancing with me!!! Since the NICU girls don't want to go line-dancing... and they don't actually seem to want to do a whole lot of dancing at all... I found some people to go with me!
Don't get me wrong, I will still do my absolute best to hang out with the NICU girls, doing what it is they want to do. I really do want to be able to spend time with them, get to know them, and bond with them so that we can all have some support on this tough road. However, I still have some desires to go out dancing and go to the country music places, and even have a few drinks every once in awhile! Goodness, I'm not looking to get blacked out drunk, but I want to enjoy a couple drinks with some fun girls, out in a place where I can dance in a line with a whole bunch of other single girls that I don't know from Eve. I can't explain it, but I'm not ready to leave that part of college life just yet. It's a good stress relief for me and I will stick to my rule about not giving my number out at bars.
For goodness sake, I'm in a place with a lot of southern guys and I just want to dance with a few of these great smelling, cutie pie guys. Is that a crime?
Long story short, I am working on getting cross-trained in Postpartum. I thought I would hate it, but it ended up being a lovely surprise, especially if I need to be floated. Plus, maybe they will let me pick up some extra shift PRN!!!
Wednesday, October 12, 2016
Don't Let the Stories Die
I recently found myself making lists of things I wanted to do. I was making lists because I was terribly bored and attempting to find fun things to do in town. Also, the lists get my mind to focus on something other than Netflix for a couple hours every once in a while.
During this list-making obsession, I decided I needed to read some "fun" books again. Oh how I love to read!... for fun. Give me a textbook about med/surg nursing and I will either fall asleep the moment it is opened or decide that my house, my mom's house, my brother's frat house, and every single vehicle in my line of vision needs to be cleaned spotless. I'm not normally a tidy or clean person, so you can see how "Pulling a Monica" (I know it's used incorrectly from how Friends uses it, but you know what I mean... she's the clean freak!) would be quite worrisome for my friends and family.
So, after my unit meeting today, I went off and signed myself up at the library. We have a surprising number of libraries in town (5-6) considering how small this town is. Even College Town didn't have this many and it was a bigger city! Anywho, I picked up some books after not finding the ones I was after. While wondering through the many isles of unopened adventures and make-believe lands, my eye caught on a book by Sally Hepworth called The Secrets of Midwives. Naturally, this sounds like a book I need to read! Does it not?
I began the book when I woke from a nap at midnight and I'm already halfway done with it at 0500. This author is an incredible writer and the story really has me engaged. I can imagine myself in each of the lives it depicts, and as being the midwife in these situations. By the way, the book is about a grandmother, mom, and granddaughter; three generations of women who are all midwives and how their various life circumstances intertwine.
What I was not expecting, however, is an underlying story plot of domestic violence. Which, of course, brought me crashing back to earth, to reality, to my story.
When I read, or journal, or blog for that matter, I often find myself wishing I were better at writing so that I could write books. I want desperately to somehow have my story mean something. For the things I lived through to make a greater impact on the world than people hearing I am recovering from rape, domestic violence, and the complex PTSD that followed. I want people to be able to somehow find hope and perhaps be able to avoid situations like mine, by reading or hearing about my story.
I don't want my circumstances and memories to simply fade away and die with me. I figure, if someone has to survive shit like this, those stories need to be remembered and used as warnings for others before it's too late. Before they say yes to a date that they should be wary of. Before they get in to deep with a person who is digging in their evil tentacles from the very moment they meet. Before a person even begins dating, way back in middle school, so they are taught what is absolutely not okay so that the next generations of children have some sort of hope of having higher standards for what dating and love is actually supposed to be, not the sick and twisted version I and so many other have to suffer through.
Today my desire to continue on to be a Nurse Midwife is stronger than ever, as is my desire to potentially find a way to tell my story in a fictional way. Maybe, BedpanAlley could be a published writer of both midwifery, neonatal care, and fictional books someday... Y'all, it'll take a miracle, but how many other miracles have occurred already for me? I'm not even supposed to be here today.
Folks, regardless of where you are in your journey, or whether we walk similar paths or not, I think some of our hardest sufferings, along with our greatest triumphs, deserve to be remembered. Think about maybe keeping a journal to chronicle such events. Perhaps I'm overly sentimental, or odd, or whatever, but I don't think such things should die with us. I enjoy listening or reading about the things my grandparents got to experience, and I often listen with a heavy heart as they explain the pains hey endured. However, it brings a sense of understanding and greater closeness between us. It also helps the new generations not forget the happenings of the past. We lose so much by not looking back. Look at midwifery and obstetrical care: many providers have lost the ability to deliver breech presenting babies. We've lost the basic knowledge of how to build fires and keep them banked for the night so that we don't freeze in our sleep... Many of us have lost the ability to hunt, or if we do hunt we don't do it without a gun or pre-made, specialized bow. Moral of the story: you have stories, don't let them die with you. Tell them to someone who will pass them on or write them in a journal. We don't necessarily need to pass on our Facebook and Instagram accounts, but pass on the deep, meaningful and very real occurrences, both happy and sad, that occur in your life.
During this list-making obsession, I decided I needed to read some "fun" books again. Oh how I love to read!... for fun. Give me a textbook about med/surg nursing and I will either fall asleep the moment it is opened or decide that my house, my mom's house, my brother's frat house, and every single vehicle in my line of vision needs to be cleaned spotless. I'm not normally a tidy or clean person, so you can see how "Pulling a Monica" (I know it's used incorrectly from how Friends uses it, but you know what I mean... she's the clean freak!) would be quite worrisome for my friends and family.
So, after my unit meeting today, I went off and signed myself up at the library. We have a surprising number of libraries in town (5-6) considering how small this town is. Even College Town didn't have this many and it was a bigger city! Anywho, I picked up some books after not finding the ones I was after. While wondering through the many isles of unopened adventures and make-believe lands, my eye caught on a book by Sally Hepworth called The Secrets of Midwives. Naturally, this sounds like a book I need to read! Does it not?
I began the book when I woke from a nap at midnight and I'm already halfway done with it at 0500. This author is an incredible writer and the story really has me engaged. I can imagine myself in each of the lives it depicts, and as being the midwife in these situations. By the way, the book is about a grandmother, mom, and granddaughter; three generations of women who are all midwives and how their various life circumstances intertwine.
What I was not expecting, however, is an underlying story plot of domestic violence. Which, of course, brought me crashing back to earth, to reality, to my story.
When I read, or journal, or blog for that matter, I often find myself wishing I were better at writing so that I could write books. I want desperately to somehow have my story mean something. For the things I lived through to make a greater impact on the world than people hearing I am recovering from rape, domestic violence, and the complex PTSD that followed. I want people to be able to somehow find hope and perhaps be able to avoid situations like mine, by reading or hearing about my story.
I don't want my circumstances and memories to simply fade away and die with me. I figure, if someone has to survive shit like this, those stories need to be remembered and used as warnings for others before it's too late. Before they say yes to a date that they should be wary of. Before they get in to deep with a person who is digging in their evil tentacles from the very moment they meet. Before a person even begins dating, way back in middle school, so they are taught what is absolutely not okay so that the next generations of children have some sort of hope of having higher standards for what dating and love is actually supposed to be, not the sick and twisted version I and so many other have to suffer through.
Today my desire to continue on to be a Nurse Midwife is stronger than ever, as is my desire to potentially find a way to tell my story in a fictional way. Maybe, BedpanAlley could be a published writer of both midwifery, neonatal care, and fictional books someday... Y'all, it'll take a miracle, but how many other miracles have occurred already for me? I'm not even supposed to be here today.
Folks, regardless of where you are in your journey, or whether we walk similar paths or not, I think some of our hardest sufferings, along with our greatest triumphs, deserve to be remembered. Think about maybe keeping a journal to chronicle such events. Perhaps I'm overly sentimental, or odd, or whatever, but I don't think such things should die with us. I enjoy listening or reading about the things my grandparents got to experience, and I often listen with a heavy heart as they explain the pains hey endured. However, it brings a sense of understanding and greater closeness between us. It also helps the new generations not forget the happenings of the past. We lose so much by not looking back. Look at midwifery and obstetrical care: many providers have lost the ability to deliver breech presenting babies. We've lost the basic knowledge of how to build fires and keep them banked for the night so that we don't freeze in our sleep... Many of us have lost the ability to hunt, or if we do hunt we don't do it without a gun or pre-made, specialized bow. Moral of the story: you have stories, don't let them die with you. Tell them to someone who will pass them on or write them in a journal. We don't necessarily need to pass on our Facebook and Instagram accounts, but pass on the deep, meaningful and very real occurrences, both happy and sad, that occur in your life.
Tuesday, May 31, 2016
Moving On
Y'all, I woke up at about 0600 this morning with the thought that I only have 3 days living in Home State before I move...
All of a sudden, I couldn't sleep anymore.
Folks, it is summer and I just graduated from college. I should be sleeping in! Regardless, having blinds in my mom's RV (where I'm presently living with her) that do not keep sun out definitely contribute to the natural decline in melatonin once sunlight begins invading the bedroom. Thanks science! Haha, just kidding.
The past couple of weeks, I've been trying to get my NCLEX testing scheduled down there, got a house, working on getting my paperwork for my new NICU job completed and to who it goes to, and tying up various loose ends.
Well, the government takes awhile after they get the info via snail mail from my school. It doesn't help that I'm going to another state. I'm strapped for cash because I haven't worked since Christmas. I've been ridiculously antsy the past few weeks with nothing scheduled to do. I need to start working!
Oh L-rd, let the paperwork get done way faster than it normally would! Help me to get in and start working so that I can get a paycheck! L-rd, please provide for me so that I can pay m bills and get my responsibilities taken care of!!!
My mom recently reminded me that everything He does or doesn't do is an opportunity to build faith. He gives us desires in our heart, then fulfills them to show us that it was Him working the whole time.
Sometimes, He lets us look at houses for 3 days straight, in order to show us how bad it could be, before He finally provides a wonderful house with an amazing landlord team at the very last minute!
Sometimes, He allows us to be at the end of our funds and the end of our rope to show that He provides everything and that He allowed us to have enough funds to make it to our present situation. Granted, that can sometimes be misconstrued, but G-d gave me enough funds through school to be able to live comfortably and not have to work the final semester while I was going through counseling and getting finished with school! I am so very grateful for that because I don't think I could have finished school while working and dealing with the things counseling brought up.
G-d provided me with the perfect counselor for me, that was great with working with me where I was as I continued to heal. I was blessed with someone who did not make me rehash the same memories over and over, but allowed me to talk about them as I needed, while focusing on coping skills and rational thinking.
I was blessed with friendships that grew and faded over time, as was needed for me at any specific point in time.
The L-rd is orchestrating and leading my life. I get into trouble when I start trying to get Him to go my way, but He hasn't given up on me yet.
So, I move on Friday/Saturday. Dad borrowed a stock trailer and truck from my uncle and he and my mom will help me pack it up, drive there (across 2-3 states), then unload and get settled. Things that used to stress me or that would have stressed me before are no longer a huge deal. I was blessed by many family friends with gifts of $100 each, and one lady prayerfully decided to gift me with $500. When I opened the card and saw the check, I thought it was too much! Looking at my money situation right now... it looks like it is going to be just the right amount. And it left me floored.
If you so feel compelled, pray with me for blessings in my new adventures...
L-rd, I need protection, favor, speedy government paper processing, and I could really use some funds! Thank you L-rd for your incredible blessings and for allowing me to be able to start seeing the many "little" miracles that show me you are still very real and very present in my life. I am constantly amazed at the ways you work on a daily basis and show me that you are still trying to lead and help me. Baruch HaShem
All of a sudden, I couldn't sleep anymore.
Folks, it is summer and I just graduated from college. I should be sleeping in! Regardless, having blinds in my mom's RV (where I'm presently living with her) that do not keep sun out definitely contribute to the natural decline in melatonin once sunlight begins invading the bedroom. Thanks science! Haha, just kidding.
The past couple of weeks, I've been trying to get my NCLEX testing scheduled down there, got a house, working on getting my paperwork for my new NICU job completed and to who it goes to, and tying up various loose ends.
Well, the government takes awhile after they get the info via snail mail from my school. It doesn't help that I'm going to another state. I'm strapped for cash because I haven't worked since Christmas. I've been ridiculously antsy the past few weeks with nothing scheduled to do. I need to start working!
Oh L-rd, let the paperwork get done way faster than it normally would! Help me to get in and start working so that I can get a paycheck! L-rd, please provide for me so that I can pay m bills and get my responsibilities taken care of!!!
My mom recently reminded me that everything He does or doesn't do is an opportunity to build faith. He gives us desires in our heart, then fulfills them to show us that it was Him working the whole time.
Sometimes, He lets us look at houses for 3 days straight, in order to show us how bad it could be, before He finally provides a wonderful house with an amazing landlord team at the very last minute!
Sometimes, He allows us to be at the end of our funds and the end of our rope to show that He provides everything and that He allowed us to have enough funds to make it to our present situation. Granted, that can sometimes be misconstrued, but G-d gave me enough funds through school to be able to live comfortably and not have to work the final semester while I was going through counseling and getting finished with school! I am so very grateful for that because I don't think I could have finished school while working and dealing with the things counseling brought up.
G-d provided me with the perfect counselor for me, that was great with working with me where I was as I continued to heal. I was blessed with someone who did not make me rehash the same memories over and over, but allowed me to talk about them as I needed, while focusing on coping skills and rational thinking.
I was blessed with friendships that grew and faded over time, as was needed for me at any specific point in time.
The L-rd is orchestrating and leading my life. I get into trouble when I start trying to get Him to go my way, but He hasn't given up on me yet.
So, I move on Friday/Saturday. Dad borrowed a stock trailer and truck from my uncle and he and my mom will help me pack it up, drive there (across 2-3 states), then unload and get settled. Things that used to stress me or that would have stressed me before are no longer a huge deal. I was blessed by many family friends with gifts of $100 each, and one lady prayerfully decided to gift me with $500. When I opened the card and saw the check, I thought it was too much! Looking at my money situation right now... it looks like it is going to be just the right amount. And it left me floored.
If you so feel compelled, pray with me for blessings in my new adventures...
L-rd, I need protection, favor, speedy government paper processing, and I could really use some funds! Thank you L-rd for your incredible blessings and for allowing me to be able to start seeing the many "little" miracles that show me you are still very real and very present in my life. I am constantly amazed at the ways you work on a daily basis and show me that you are still trying to lead and help me. Baruch HaShem
Wednesday, May 11, 2016
I thought it would be different...
Well guys, I just finished my last final of nursing school. You wanna know something? I passed! That means I graduate on Friday and I have the opportunity to sit for the NCLEX to see if I get to be a registered nurse or not.
I thought it would be different. I thought I would be so excited, celebrating with my many friends, and I figured I would have a better plan. I thought this was supposed to be a happy affair.
Right now, I'm sitting in a coffee shop frustrated with my lack of support, my family split, my dreams of a family crushed, regret over my past (guys and friends) encompassing me, stress over legal matters drowning me, and I'm living in an RV with my mom because my roomie "kicked" me out a week and a half early. I'm overwhelmed at the amount of seemingly bad circumstances I have been faced with, still knowing that other people face worse lives than mine.
I "graduated" counseling yesterday. We call it that because I used to tell my counselor that I was graduating a bunch of things all at the same time so we might as well call it graduating from counseling too. She approved and thought it was cute. Well, I fell like after yesterday, I hit new rough waters and now I need her back. Finishing counseling is supposed to be a good thing, but now it left me feeling like I'm not actually ready to face life on my own again just yet. I guess I'll try it for a couple weeks/months and then decide if I need to find another counselor once I move.
Graduation is supposed to be a happy time, but you know what? It's okay if it's a little sad or frustrating for you. It's sad and frustrating for me too.
I thought it would be different. I thought I would be so excited, celebrating with my many friends, and I figured I would have a better plan. I thought this was supposed to be a happy affair.
Right now, I'm sitting in a coffee shop frustrated with my lack of support, my family split, my dreams of a family crushed, regret over my past (guys and friends) encompassing me, stress over legal matters drowning me, and I'm living in an RV with my mom because my roomie "kicked" me out a week and a half early. I'm overwhelmed at the amount of seemingly bad circumstances I have been faced with, still knowing that other people face worse lives than mine.
I "graduated" counseling yesterday. We call it that because I used to tell my counselor that I was graduating a bunch of things all at the same time so we might as well call it graduating from counseling too. She approved and thought it was cute. Well, I fell like after yesterday, I hit new rough waters and now I need her back. Finishing counseling is supposed to be a good thing, but now it left me feeling like I'm not actually ready to face life on my own again just yet. I guess I'll try it for a couple weeks/months and then decide if I need to find another counselor once I move.
Graduation is supposed to be a happy time, but you know what? It's okay if it's a little sad or frustrating for you. It's sad and frustrating for me too.
Tuesday, April 12, 2016
Regrets and Learning
If y'all recall, I "broke up" with Jersey.
For the past couple of days I have been struggling with the decision because of her haunting words of, "karma is a bitch."
Today, class was a bit uncomfortable, but not as bad as it has been while waiting for her to come and attack me.
Tonight I went out with Millie and we got on the subject. Millie is in a clinical group with Jersey and I guess Jersey went to a simulation lab after our "break up" and was crying the whole time. She was venting to another classmate when Millie walked by them in the hall. She ended up staying and heard all that Jersey had to say. Jersey said she felt attacked, and then started listing off my many faults and why she felt I was being unreasonable.
This is understandable.
I agree that the timing was wrong. Thinking back on the situation, I should have probably scheduled it for a different time, but I don't know when else I could have done it and I can't fix that now.
Talking with Millie gave me no comfort. I still feel terrible. I feel like I somehow embodied everything that hurt me in Jersey's personality, my old Roommate, and the girls I lived with freshman year. I somehow turned into the mean girl that I have despised and worked so hard to get away from all these years.
I hate myself for that.
I keep second guessing myself and my decision. I feel like I am absolutely crazy and that I made a huge mistake. Regardless of how I try to rationalize it, I simply cannot fix the situation in my head and I feel really bad.
This brings me to a huge conundrum... In the future, do I ignore when friends are dumping on me, and turn the other cheek? In these relationships, the friendship usually ends up phasing out gradually as I go to less and less gatherings with them and do not talk with them as much. OR Do I continue to stand up for myself and leave a path of destruction, hurt feelings, and people in tears? This option allows me to have my thoughts and feelings heard, but I feel bad and I become more stressed than if I just let it ride and take the yelling.
I don't know whether to apologize or accept that she needed to hear what I had to say. People complain about these things behind her back a lot, but nobody every tells her these things. Granted, I do not like being assertive and I do not think that it works on me. It doesn't fit.
I had too many good days in a row. Today was decidedly a nice day, up until about 5 p.m. tonight when my brain decided to remind me that it was Country Boy's birthday. I shared a shot with him and then went out to drinks with Millie. Beauty ended up coming, too, but not until way later.
Thing is, I'm having a lot of troubles with Beauty lately. She continues to ignore my texts, though I don't text about complaints. When I text her, it's to invite her out or let her know that some assignment is due or to simply say something nice. She responds to maybe 1 out of every 5-10 that I send her. Meanwhile, she tells me that Lexi complains to her all the time about me. This means that they are probably hanging out quite a bit. That's good, they need to be able to hang out with friends. I'm just getting frustrated with the fact that I am being ignored, but I'm the first one to be called when there is something wrong and they are having troubles with their car, school, or life.
What would happen if I were to die? Would anyone miss me?
I'm not someone that anyone tries to go out of their way to hang out with, by I am on speed dial for literally any issue that arises.
It's okay to ignore me, but you better believe I am expected to respond to every text within a couple minutes of receiving it.
I'm just another body in a seat until someone has a question about what happened in class.
I'm just some girl that is expected to take a whole load of shit when someone is having a bad day. Heaven forbid I need to vent to anyone but my mom! I have to just take the dumping, with a smile on my face, then go about fixing all of the person's problems even if the problems weren't actually my fault to begin with.
If I were to die one night and didn't show up for class for a couple of days, would anyone notice? Would Beauty regret the texts she ignored? Would Jersey regret unloading all of her life frustrations on a friend who she knew was fresh out of a break-up and had been recently traumatized? What would Millie do? How would my friends from the Farm Store that I worked at as a first job respond? Would any of the girls that I went to elementary school even think twice if my name were in an obituary? Would my seat simply be an open seat in the back, or would it then be looked upon with any flicker of sadness?
Would anyone even notice?
How would I be remembered?
Would it be for the awkwardness I show everyday? For my clumsiness? My traumatic couple of years? How I have pissed people of left and right through college? For the struggles I talked about with my couple of people who sat next to me? For being the "quiet" girl in clinical?
Would I be remembered at all?
For the past couple of days I have been struggling with the decision because of her haunting words of, "karma is a bitch."
Today, class was a bit uncomfortable, but not as bad as it has been while waiting for her to come and attack me.
Tonight I went out with Millie and we got on the subject. Millie is in a clinical group with Jersey and I guess Jersey went to a simulation lab after our "break up" and was crying the whole time. She was venting to another classmate when Millie walked by them in the hall. She ended up staying and heard all that Jersey had to say. Jersey said she felt attacked, and then started listing off my many faults and why she felt I was being unreasonable.
This is understandable.
I agree that the timing was wrong. Thinking back on the situation, I should have probably scheduled it for a different time, but I don't know when else I could have done it and I can't fix that now.
Talking with Millie gave me no comfort. I still feel terrible. I feel like I somehow embodied everything that hurt me in Jersey's personality, my old Roommate, and the girls I lived with freshman year. I somehow turned into the mean girl that I have despised and worked so hard to get away from all these years.
I hate myself for that.
I keep second guessing myself and my decision. I feel like I am absolutely crazy and that I made a huge mistake. Regardless of how I try to rationalize it, I simply cannot fix the situation in my head and I feel really bad.
This brings me to a huge conundrum... In the future, do I ignore when friends are dumping on me, and turn the other cheek? In these relationships, the friendship usually ends up phasing out gradually as I go to less and less gatherings with them and do not talk with them as much. OR Do I continue to stand up for myself and leave a path of destruction, hurt feelings, and people in tears? This option allows me to have my thoughts and feelings heard, but I feel bad and I become more stressed than if I just let it ride and take the yelling.
I don't know whether to apologize or accept that she needed to hear what I had to say. People complain about these things behind her back a lot, but nobody every tells her these things. Granted, I do not like being assertive and I do not think that it works on me. It doesn't fit.
I had too many good days in a row. Today was decidedly a nice day, up until about 5 p.m. tonight when my brain decided to remind me that it was Country Boy's birthday. I shared a shot with him and then went out to drinks with Millie. Beauty ended up coming, too, but not until way later.
Thing is, I'm having a lot of troubles with Beauty lately. She continues to ignore my texts, though I don't text about complaints. When I text her, it's to invite her out or let her know that some assignment is due or to simply say something nice. She responds to maybe 1 out of every 5-10 that I send her. Meanwhile, she tells me that Lexi complains to her all the time about me. This means that they are probably hanging out quite a bit. That's good, they need to be able to hang out with friends. I'm just getting frustrated with the fact that I am being ignored, but I'm the first one to be called when there is something wrong and they are having troubles with their car, school, or life.
What would happen if I were to die? Would anyone miss me?
I'm not someone that anyone tries to go out of their way to hang out with, by I am on speed dial for literally any issue that arises.
It's okay to ignore me, but you better believe I am expected to respond to every text within a couple minutes of receiving it.
I'm just another body in a seat until someone has a question about what happened in class.
I'm just some girl that is expected to take a whole load of shit when someone is having a bad day. Heaven forbid I need to vent to anyone but my mom! I have to just take the dumping, with a smile on my face, then go about fixing all of the person's problems even if the problems weren't actually my fault to begin with.
If I were to die one night and didn't show up for class for a couple of days, would anyone notice? Would Beauty regret the texts she ignored? Would Jersey regret unloading all of her life frustrations on a friend who she knew was fresh out of a break-up and had been recently traumatized? What would Millie do? How would my friends from the Farm Store that I worked at as a first job respond? Would any of the girls that I went to elementary school even think twice if my name were in an obituary? Would my seat simply be an open seat in the back, or would it then be looked upon with any flicker of sadness?
Would anyone even notice?
How would I be remembered?
Would it be for the awkwardness I show everyday? For my clumsiness? My traumatic couple of years? How I have pissed people of left and right through college? For the struggles I talked about with my couple of people who sat next to me? For being the "quiet" girl in clinical?
Would I be remembered at all?
Thursday, March 17, 2016
The Wishes I'll Never See Fulfilled
There are days that you may wish you could go back and relive. There are times in your life that you wished you could go back and redo. There may be times that you wish you never had to live through.
Well, I wish I could go back 3 years ago and not live these past few years at all.
I know, this is a wish that will forever go unfulfilled. I was also told that this is not productive thought because of it's impossibility. It doesn't change the fact that I keep praying I wake up from my nightmare and take it as a life-lesson through sleep to never repeat it in actual life.
I want to go back to the days of college when I was so full of life, looking forward to the future, and excited at the amount of friends I had and the excitement I had when I was first accepted into the nursing program.
I was pure. I was hopeful. I had a whole world full of possibilities just waiting outside my door.
Today I am damage, beaten, weary, and waiting for the day when the Good L-rd decides to free me from my real-life nightmare.
It's hard today to not fall into my bad habits that have helped me to cope with my struggles thus far. However, I want to be able to wear short sleeves and a bikini when I go on my graduation trip with my family, so my physical coping methods are out of the picture. I probably couldn't drink enough to actually get anywhere in the way of numbing because it just shuts off the smart part of my brain and brings forward all of the terrible things I want a break from. Sleep doesn't help because from the time I lay down, through my sleep, and up until I begin my day, my head is filled with the worst things I couldn't even imagine I would have survived, but I did live through. Painting and coloring only get me so far before memories invade again.
I have no relief.
I could have gone for a walk, but it's dark now and I'm scared exfiance would be waiting outside my apartment.
I've had several friends tell me lately that I didn't seem like I was having a bad day, even though I had told them hours earlier over a text that I was having a really bad day. They tell me that I look fine and seem to be enjoying myself.
Well, I've been lying too long. I've gotten it down to a science and have a tendency to push everything out of my head in order to prevent telling those around me what has happened. I don't want to bring down the fun mood by spilling all of my dirty laundry for those who had no idea of my life's happenings before that point. For some, it is the first time they've ever met me. No need to bring them down with my internal scars.
Just for fun, let's go over my "checkered past," shall we?
I have:
No, I don't feel sorry for myself but I do wish these weren't my burdens to bear. Some are self-inflicted, and those have stopped. Those are also burdens I'm ashamed of, but I know that I caused them to myself so I can't blame anyone for those. However, it is hard most days to not drop back into those habits. Sometimes those bad things I did were the only thing to keep me grounded in the world, if even for a moment.
I know, I know! I'm not supposed to think like this! But some days I can't help it. I mean, c'mon! There has to be a break eventually, right? You would hope...
I don't foresee life getting much better for me. Oh, I pray that it does! But, honestly, sometimes I can be so far in the pit of despair that there is no way to see anything but the darkness overwhelming and engulfing me.
I just want to be put out of my misery. I've got no fight left.
Well, I wish I could go back 3 years ago and not live these past few years at all.
I know, this is a wish that will forever go unfulfilled. I was also told that this is not productive thought because of it's impossibility. It doesn't change the fact that I keep praying I wake up from my nightmare and take it as a life-lesson through sleep to never repeat it in actual life.
I want to go back to the days of college when I was so full of life, looking forward to the future, and excited at the amount of friends I had and the excitement I had when I was first accepted into the nursing program.
I was pure. I was hopeful. I had a whole world full of possibilities just waiting outside my door.
Today I am damage, beaten, weary, and waiting for the day when the Good L-rd decides to free me from my real-life nightmare.
It's hard today to not fall into my bad habits that have helped me to cope with my struggles thus far. However, I want to be able to wear short sleeves and a bikini when I go on my graduation trip with my family, so my physical coping methods are out of the picture. I probably couldn't drink enough to actually get anywhere in the way of numbing because it just shuts off the smart part of my brain and brings forward all of the terrible things I want a break from. Sleep doesn't help because from the time I lay down, through my sleep, and up until I begin my day, my head is filled with the worst things I couldn't even imagine I would have survived, but I did live through. Painting and coloring only get me so far before memories invade again.
I have no relief.
I could have gone for a walk, but it's dark now and I'm scared exfiance would be waiting outside my apartment.
I've had several friends tell me lately that I didn't seem like I was having a bad day, even though I had told them hours earlier over a text that I was having a really bad day. They tell me that I look fine and seem to be enjoying myself.
Well, I've been lying too long. I've gotten it down to a science and have a tendency to push everything out of my head in order to prevent telling those around me what has happened. I don't want to bring down the fun mood by spilling all of my dirty laundry for those who had no idea of my life's happenings before that point. For some, it is the first time they've ever met me. No need to bring them down with my internal scars.
Just for fun, let's go over my "checkered past," shall we?
I have:
- cut, scratched until I've bled, and other forms of self-harm (8th grade)
- attempted suicide 5 or more times (8th grade)
- avoided eating except for dinner every other few nights for a solid 6 months or so. I lost 25-30 pounds in a month or two (high school)
- lived through a friend's suicide
- been in 2, count them TWO! abusive relationships in the year of 2015 (I'm talking the beginning of January to the very end of December)
- relapsed into self-harm
- dealt with the unmedicated bipolar ramblings of various family members that typically result in me being blamed for their miserable lives, countless times
- gone through 3 different roommate situations that were very unhealthy and ridiculously stressful
- began drinking occasionally to calm my mind and pain temporarily
- been raped so many times I can't count them all
- been drug through the mud*, beaten beyond recognition*, damaged beyond repair*, and been so mentally tortured that I wished my previous suicide attempts could have stuck (*not really physical situation if they have the *, but the pain is similar, just lasts much longer)
No, I don't feel sorry for myself but I do wish these weren't my burdens to bear. Some are self-inflicted, and those have stopped. Those are also burdens I'm ashamed of, but I know that I caused them to myself so I can't blame anyone for those. However, it is hard most days to not drop back into those habits. Sometimes those bad things I did were the only thing to keep me grounded in the world, if even for a moment.
I know, I know! I'm not supposed to think like this! But some days I can't help it. I mean, c'mon! There has to be a break eventually, right? You would hope...
I don't foresee life getting much better for me. Oh, I pray that it does! But, honestly, sometimes I can be so far in the pit of despair that there is no way to see anything but the darkness overwhelming and engulfing me.
I just want to be put out of my misery. I've got no fight left.
Monday, February 22, 2016
One to Top Off the Day
Y'all remember Jersey from a few weeks ago? She yelled at me after class and over text for hours because she was mad that I didn't invite her to the mall.
Guess what she's doing?
She is talking to my friends and telling them that I am mad at her for no reason. Hahaha!
So, she told me not to tell anyone what she was telling me. Meanwhile, she is telling everyone half truths about me being angry at her for no reason. Unfortunately for her, my friends know that her story doesn't sound like me. Therefore, they came to me and asked what was going on. I told them the full story. That means things I am not proud of saying AND the general basis of what she said and did. All of a sudden my friends are starting to tell me, "wow, that makes so much more sense! Her story sounds nothing like you!"
No shit!
Believe it or not, I don't act as petty as Jersey says I do. I plan out my reactions carefully so that when someone comes back to me, saying someone else told them I did something mean, I can think back and show them proof that I am not as crazy as the person told them I am.
Too bad for Jersey my friends are actual friends and they are over the middle school shit she is trying to pull.
Please, oh L-rd, don't let anything else happen today. I can't handle one more thing happening today. I am so over it!!!
Guess what she's doing?
She is talking to my friends and telling them that I am mad at her for no reason. Hahaha!
So, she told me not to tell anyone what she was telling me. Meanwhile, she is telling everyone half truths about me being angry at her for no reason. Unfortunately for her, my friends know that her story doesn't sound like me. Therefore, they came to me and asked what was going on. I told them the full story. That means things I am not proud of saying AND the general basis of what she said and did. All of a sudden my friends are starting to tell me, "wow, that makes so much more sense! Her story sounds nothing like you!"
No shit!
Believe it or not, I don't act as petty as Jersey says I do. I plan out my reactions carefully so that when someone comes back to me, saying someone else told them I did something mean, I can think back and show them proof that I am not as crazy as the person told them I am.
Too bad for Jersey my friends are actual friends and they are over the middle school shit she is trying to pull.
Please, oh L-rd, don't let anything else happen today. I can't handle one more thing happening today. I am so over it!!!
Wednesday, January 27, 2016
Selfish by Choice
School started last week but these first two weeks are all sorts of janky. My typical schedule for classes and life will not begin until next Monday but I'm totally okay with that.
I had counseling again yesterday. She told me I'm not strong enough to go over the really hard stuff yet, so we started working on coping strategies... That's solid. I kept losing my mind between last week's session and yesterday but it turns out that the coping techniques I was accidentally using through the week are actually legit coping techniques that are taught in counseling. Walking/sitting outside, warm/cold water, etc. I begin coloring at my next session.
I told my counselor how hard my first OB class was with the birthing videos. I had also nearly started crying during my skills lab for OB because we had to do vaginal exams to check dilation and that is apparently a HUGE trigger for me, along with damn near everything else. With this in mind, I was advised to take a semester off. I told her that is not an option because I want to be done with nursing school and I want to graduate with my friends. Once she realized that I am not going to budge on this, we made a plan for me to start going twice a weeks (in a couple weeks because she is crazy busy with her life too!). Then, we'll spend a lot of time working on coping methods so that I can get through OB and then begin to work on my tough stuff before I graduate and move and she graduates.
I guess we'll see where that gets us.
Exfiance texts me after my sessions asking what we talked about in my session. I normally keep it pretty under wraps when I was with my last counselor and then also with my new one. Yesterday, I was just not having his bullshit at all. He asked what we talked about and I told him I didn't want to talk about it. He told me he hates when I keep stuff from him. Well, Fucker, you lost that privalage when you decided to lie to me all the time, disregard my refusal for you to use my body however the hell you felt like using it, and I took it away when I broke up with you. Alright? So no, you do not get to make me feel guilty if you think I might be keeping stuff from you. I am because we are no longer together and you kept everything from me! Don't give me this shit.
So, after not talking with him yesterday, he texted me today to ask if I would "finally tell him why I was mad yesterday." I wasn't mad yesterday, I just didn't want to talk about it with him because it's not of his fucking business. It never should have been because I have trauma that is only my business that he doesn't need to know about. He can support me working through it without forcing me to tell him every damn detail. I told him something along those lines and reminded him of all the lies and information he kept from me and all of the double standards he kept for what I was supposed to do/tell him as opposed to what he did/told me. He didn't like that but I'm learning to stand up for myself. It's starting with him and my family then I will work on my friends. I'm sick of taking shit and I'm so over worrying about everyone else when NOBODY concerns themselves with what I may need/want/etc.
Therefore, I'm working on being intentionally selfish for a season.
I had counseling again yesterday. She told me I'm not strong enough to go over the really hard stuff yet, so we started working on coping strategies... That's solid. I kept losing my mind between last week's session and yesterday but it turns out that the coping techniques I was accidentally using through the week are actually legit coping techniques that are taught in counseling. Walking/sitting outside, warm/cold water, etc. I begin coloring at my next session.
I told my counselor how hard my first OB class was with the birthing videos. I had also nearly started crying during my skills lab for OB because we had to do vaginal exams to check dilation and that is apparently a HUGE trigger for me, along with damn near everything else. With this in mind, I was advised to take a semester off. I told her that is not an option because I want to be done with nursing school and I want to graduate with my friends. Once she realized that I am not going to budge on this, we made a plan for me to start going twice a weeks (in a couple weeks because she is crazy busy with her life too!). Then, we'll spend a lot of time working on coping methods so that I can get through OB and then begin to work on my tough stuff before I graduate and move and she graduates.
I guess we'll see where that gets us.
Exfiance texts me after my sessions asking what we talked about in my session. I normally keep it pretty under wraps when I was with my last counselor and then also with my new one. Yesterday, I was just not having his bullshit at all. He asked what we talked about and I told him I didn't want to talk about it. He told me he hates when I keep stuff from him. Well, Fucker, you lost that privalage when you decided to lie to me all the time, disregard my refusal for you to use my body however the hell you felt like using it, and I took it away when I broke up with you. Alright? So no, you do not get to make me feel guilty if you think I might be keeping stuff from you. I am because we are no longer together and you kept everything from me! Don't give me this shit.
So, after not talking with him yesterday, he texted me today to ask if I would "finally tell him why I was mad yesterday." I wasn't mad yesterday, I just didn't want to talk about it with him because it's not of his fucking business. It never should have been because I have trauma that is only my business that he doesn't need to know about. He can support me working through it without forcing me to tell him every damn detail. I told him something along those lines and reminded him of all the lies and information he kept from me and all of the double standards he kept for what I was supposed to do/tell him as opposed to what he did/told me. He didn't like that but I'm learning to stand up for myself. It's starting with him and my family then I will work on my friends. I'm sick of taking shit and I'm so over worrying about everyone else when NOBODY concerns themselves with what I may need/want/etc.
Therefore, I'm working on being intentionally selfish for a season.
Monday, November 30, 2015
Fiance's Plea
He found the scars.
He asked what they were from, I refused to answer so he told me to leave. As I was leaving, he called me back.
He guessed the whole thing. He understood and he knew before he even asked. He was asking, hoping I wouldn't tell him what he already knew.
He held me and asked questions that I hated to answer. Reasons were always there when it was happening, but when asked I had no words to explain.
I cried. I cried like I haven't in months.
He is angry. He is sad. He is hurt. Most of all, I think he's scared. He, like everyone, thought he would be able to fix me. He told me counseling is stupid and a waste of time, when I was going. Now that I'm not going and he understands how bad I've been struggling, now he is begging me to go back.
Thing is, I already know what the counselor will say. So, why would I go?
After sleeping on it, and wondering about my reasons for hours, they are coming back.
He asked what they were from, I refused to answer so he told me to leave. As I was leaving, he called me back.
He guessed the whole thing. He understood and he knew before he even asked. He was asking, hoping I wouldn't tell him what he already knew.
He held me and asked questions that I hated to answer. Reasons were always there when it was happening, but when asked I had no words to explain.
I cried. I cried like I haven't in months.
He is angry. He is sad. He is hurt. Most of all, I think he's scared. He, like everyone, thought he would be able to fix me. He told me counseling is stupid and a waste of time, when I was going. Now that I'm not going and he understands how bad I've been struggling, now he is begging me to go back.
Thing is, I already know what the counselor will say. So, why would I go?
After sleeping on it, and wondering about my reasons for hours, they are coming back.
- I hate what has been done to my body at the hands of other people.
- I hate that I have lost all my friends because they dug too deep then high-tailed it out, leaving me alone. So alone.
- There are rumors being spread about me by my own extended family, but none of them will tell me what is going on. The only thing they say is that there are rumors and that I should go ask someone else in the family what they are.
- I cannot stand going to class because of a select few people who trample all over the rest of the class.
- I start crying at work because I don't think I do well at my job, my patients do not really care if they get better, I'm with them to keep them safe from themselves. Thus, the nurses and rest of the staff avoid the room at all costs.
- I do not see any type of "light at the end of the tunnel" after graduation, or in the rest of my life.
- I used to want to get married, have kids, and start a future. I no longer want to bring other beings into the world and I don't see how anyone will want to marry someone who is no longer pure. Plus, I don't want my kids to go through what I've been through, or worse.
- I don't want to be here anymore.
Tuesday, November 17, 2015
I Swear, I'm Gonna Drop Kick Somebody
Fiance went back to work a couple weeks ago. Fortunately, instead of traveling a couple states away, he was able to stay in our same state, just drive a couple hours to the new site he was assigned to. Since he is so close, I went up to visit him over the weekend. In talking while I was there, I started crying. I couldn't really explain to him why between sobs, and also because my mind was just drawing a blank. I can't put into words the feelings I get sometimes, I just knew that I was sad and angry and for some reason the tears started pouring while I was there with him. So, he hugged me until the tears stopped, then we went out for lunch.
A couple days after that, once I was back home, he was texting me but I was asleep and my phone was on silent. He texted once, then texted again an hour later. A few hours after that, he asked if I was okay because I wasn't responding. A short while after that text, I woke up and looked at my phone. 5 texts! Only three were from him, one from roomie, and another from Dad. Anyway, fiance and I started talking and I told him I had just been asleep. However, we started talking about how I was doing, why I was mad and sad (because of ExBF). He asked me to go back to counseling.
When I first started counseling, he told me he thought it was a waste of time. I agreed because after three sessions, I had gotten nowhere in the sexual assault area of my life and I was sick of wasting time and money driving from Hometown down to College town (an hour to an hour and a half of driving). So, I cancelled my appointments and stopped going. Four months later, my flashbacks are not so bad and I'm not having so many nightmares anymore. Despite these things, my depression is the darkest it's ever been.
Before going into the relationship with fiance, I told him I have depression and bipolar. He told me that he doesn't believe in those and that I should just get over being sad. He also asked if I've ever been clinically diagnosed by a doctor, to which I replied I have not. Why do I need to go get a doctor diagnose me when I have the DSM-V book with all symptoms and I know that there is a family history of bipolar and undiagnosed bipolar that is being treated as depression? Logically, I don't feel I need an official diagnosis because that just puts a label on me that I don't want. Then meds will be prescribed to me that I don't want to be on and I will have a whole host of other problems that I do not want or need to deal with.
Now, he is probably the 5th person that has asked me to go back to counseling but nobody listens to me to know why I refuse to go back or to listen to the problems that I have at whatever time they ask. They think that counseling is a "fix" for my "temporary" problem. That's ridiculous. If you've read my earlier posts, you can see that this problem will never go away. Seeing as I had depression before the whole ExBF thing, that just means that my base-line depression is worse than it was before. I'll survive and learn to deal. I'm not going back to counseling, that was bullsh!t.
So, I tell my friends nothing, they are now starting to worry. That's bullsh!t too because they don't want to hear what I have to say but they feel like they need to know what's going on in my life. Oh my gosh people, pick a freakin' side! If you want to know, then deal with what I tell you. You don't have to live with it, I do. You'll survive (not you, my friends). If you tell me you don't want to know what's happening in my life and in my head, then don't frickin' ask! I have no way of winning with anyone because they don't understand that they are asking for contradictions to happen.
If one more person asks me, I'm just going to flat out tell them that the last time they asked what was going on, they tried to tell me what to do and then asked me to stop telling them things. Then they started pulling away and not being around me anymore. So, I stop telling them things, and then they want to start digging in my business again. I'm going to tell them that I can't handle learning to depend on people and then get ditched by them because they can't handle my sh!t. So, I am choosing to deal with it on my own the way I have my whole life. I will tell them that I will listen to their good and bad news, their struggles, and what they are excited about. But I am going to ask them/tell them not to be offended when I don't open up to them because I tried that and it obviously didn't work at all.
And if one more person tells me to go to counseling, sit in a chair, and start babbling on about random crap that pops into my head, I will drop kick them. I know they mean well, but I need to be able to feel like I am making decisions in my own life. They might be bad ones, but I'm learning. I can't do what everyone tells me to do because everyone tells me to do something completely different with my life and none of them have lived in my shoes. I also need to have some illusion that I have some control over what happens to me from now on.
Being sexually assaulted takes away any semblance of maybe having control over what happens to your own body, so I need to not feel out of control anymore. Honestly, everyone tries to take away what little power I have over my life and my healing by telling me what to do because they don't think I can make my own decision. That tells me that they believe it is my fault that I got into the situation I got into. They don't know how I fought, how scared I was, how my brain shut off, and I pretty much blacked out. These are all coping mechanisms and completely normal psychological responses to trauma. Hindsight, I wish I could have changed a lot of things and completely prevented it in the first place. Alas, that is not possible and right now I hate my life because of it. Don't take away my last chance of feeling like I might be able to make it through this without completely shutting down and not leaving my bed for food or water. I'm one step away from not having the strength or energy to take another breath, don't take that away from me.
I love you all (yes you, those who read my incessant babbling). I know you all mean well and want to help me. Mostly, it helps that you read this, or don't. This blog is pretty much my diary. I appreciate that I have somewhere to vent about everything, and anything that is going on in my life.
A couple days after that, once I was back home, he was texting me but I was asleep and my phone was on silent. He texted once, then texted again an hour later. A few hours after that, he asked if I was okay because I wasn't responding. A short while after that text, I woke up and looked at my phone. 5 texts! Only three were from him, one from roomie, and another from Dad. Anyway, fiance and I started talking and I told him I had just been asleep. However, we started talking about how I was doing, why I was mad and sad (because of ExBF). He asked me to go back to counseling.
When I first started counseling, he told me he thought it was a waste of time. I agreed because after three sessions, I had gotten nowhere in the sexual assault area of my life and I was sick of wasting time and money driving from Hometown down to College town (an hour to an hour and a half of driving). So, I cancelled my appointments and stopped going. Four months later, my flashbacks are not so bad and I'm not having so many nightmares anymore. Despite these things, my depression is the darkest it's ever been.
Before going into the relationship with fiance, I told him I have depression and bipolar. He told me that he doesn't believe in those and that I should just get over being sad. He also asked if I've ever been clinically diagnosed by a doctor, to which I replied I have not. Why do I need to go get a doctor diagnose me when I have the DSM-V book with all symptoms and I know that there is a family history of bipolar and undiagnosed bipolar that is being treated as depression? Logically, I don't feel I need an official diagnosis because that just puts a label on me that I don't want. Then meds will be prescribed to me that I don't want to be on and I will have a whole host of other problems that I do not want or need to deal with.
Now, he is probably the 5th person that has asked me to go back to counseling but nobody listens to me to know why I refuse to go back or to listen to the problems that I have at whatever time they ask. They think that counseling is a "fix" for my "temporary" problem. That's ridiculous. If you've read my earlier posts, you can see that this problem will never go away. Seeing as I had depression before the whole ExBF thing, that just means that my base-line depression is worse than it was before. I'll survive and learn to deal. I'm not going back to counseling, that was bullsh!t.
So, I tell my friends nothing, they are now starting to worry. That's bullsh!t too because they don't want to hear what I have to say but they feel like they need to know what's going on in my life. Oh my gosh people, pick a freakin' side! If you want to know, then deal with what I tell you. You don't have to live with it, I do. You'll survive (not you, my friends). If you tell me you don't want to know what's happening in my life and in my head, then don't frickin' ask! I have no way of winning with anyone because they don't understand that they are asking for contradictions to happen.
If one more person asks me, I'm just going to flat out tell them that the last time they asked what was going on, they tried to tell me what to do and then asked me to stop telling them things. Then they started pulling away and not being around me anymore. So, I stop telling them things, and then they want to start digging in my business again. I'm going to tell them that I can't handle learning to depend on people and then get ditched by them because they can't handle my sh!t. So, I am choosing to deal with it on my own the way I have my whole life. I will tell them that I will listen to their good and bad news, their struggles, and what they are excited about. But I am going to ask them/tell them not to be offended when I don't open up to them because I tried that and it obviously didn't work at all.
And if one more person tells me to go to counseling, sit in a chair, and start babbling on about random crap that pops into my head, I will drop kick them. I know they mean well, but I need to be able to feel like I am making decisions in my own life. They might be bad ones, but I'm learning. I can't do what everyone tells me to do because everyone tells me to do something completely different with my life and none of them have lived in my shoes. I also need to have some illusion that I have some control over what happens to me from now on.
Being sexually assaulted takes away any semblance of maybe having control over what happens to your own body, so I need to not feel out of control anymore. Honestly, everyone tries to take away what little power I have over my life and my healing by telling me what to do because they don't think I can make my own decision. That tells me that they believe it is my fault that I got into the situation I got into. They don't know how I fought, how scared I was, how my brain shut off, and I pretty much blacked out. These are all coping mechanisms and completely normal psychological responses to trauma. Hindsight, I wish I could have changed a lot of things and completely prevented it in the first place. Alas, that is not possible and right now I hate my life because of it. Don't take away my last chance of feeling like I might be able to make it through this without completely shutting down and not leaving my bed for food or water. I'm one step away from not having the strength or energy to take another breath, don't take that away from me.
I love you all (yes you, those who read my incessant babbling). I know you all mean well and want to help me. Mostly, it helps that you read this, or don't. This blog is pretty much my diary. I appreciate that I have somewhere to vent about everything, and anything that is going on in my life.
Wednesday, November 11, 2015
Not As Crazy As I Believe
I talked to a good buddy of mine. She's in nursing school with me and she knows Roomie (new) really well. I was talking with her, let's call her Millie (I just made up that name). We were talking about plans after graduation and where we wanted to live.
Then we got on the subject of why I was thinking about not moving to Mema's town to work in her hospital anymore. I told her that it seems that every time I live with someone, then it seems to wreck the relationship. Explaining further, I told her that I can come to class and be okay, and maybe even happy because I'm with my friends. Then, I can go about my day and deal with my own nonesense without them seeing that. However, when I live with people, I can't get away from them and they start to see my dark side. They watch the moods, the crazy amounts of sleep I get, my eating habits, and they know about my general moods at all points of the day/week.
This usually ruins my good friendships because nobody can handle me when I'm trying to handle my own stuff. That leads to questions. I can tell them I don't want to talk about it, but then they get upset that I'm not opening up. Other times, or after a long time of building trust, I start to share a molecule of an elephant with them. There are hundreds of elephants (problems) in my backyard (my mind) and I only share a molecule of ONE elephant with them. Nobody seems to be able to handle this little tiny bit and so they shut down, stop talking with me, and I feel like shit for sharing with them because now they have to carry that burden. This adds another elephant to my backyard.
So, I have two options: 1) don't share, continue to handle my own stuff because I know I can, and spare them the pain of dealing with any part of my burden, but deal with them being sad because I won't open up or 2) get close to them, share a bit of my life after awhile, start to trust them and rely on them to be there for me, and lose them when they realize that I'm not someone who can be saved and what I deal with is heavy, so heavy.
There's no winning.
I went through all of this with Millie and she told me she totally understands. She also told me that she doesn't share with Roomie, and also that Roomie has tried to dig into her (Millie's) life before too. I have been told that Beauty is good at digging and has tried to dig into many other people's lives as well. So, I'm not the only one finding these two friends of ours doing these things. Therefore, I'm not as crazy and I believe I am!
Also, we were sitting after clinicals, talking about some of the projects we are doing together as a clinical group. Some of the girls mentioned one of the other members and started venting about her frustration at the way the member tries to change everything we do and tell us all what to do. Now, the ones that were venting about this person are people that I get frustrated for doing the exact same things, but I'm glad that I am not the only one finding this about this particular member of the group. Out of 7 of us, there are 3 moms (all very used to taking control and all fighting for the control of our group all the time), 2 type-A people that assist in giving me headaches, and one other girl who, like me, does not give a flying rip about what we do. The other girl and I are just trying to survive the semester without banging our head against a wall all the time from the frustration we have at constantly being told 17 different things to do by the 3 taking control and the two type-A-er's.
I thought I was going crazy because I figured everyone was all hunky dory with everyone else in our group. Turns out, the same things and people that frustrate me are the same things/people that are irritating others. I'm not as crazy as I believe!
Ultimately, that realization was nice to have today. I'm glad that I'm not the only one thinking all these things and experiencing these stresses.
One of these days, I'll learn my lesson. One day I will learn that no matter how close I get to someone, I cannot tell them what's going on in my head. One day, I will go somewhere new, where I no nobody at all. I will start over and they will know nothing of my past. I will be cheery around them and save my baggage for myself and unload it when I am home alone. One day, I will learn. People can't handle the molecule, or even atom, that they ask to know. They just can't handle it. One day, I will learn this.
For now, I will get used to the loneliness that I had put aside because people wanted to get close. I will learn to deal with my shit on my own, again. I will move on and try to keep fighting another day. It will get easier again. I will be fine.
Then we got on the subject of why I was thinking about not moving to Mema's town to work in her hospital anymore. I told her that it seems that every time I live with someone, then it seems to wreck the relationship. Explaining further, I told her that I can come to class and be okay, and maybe even happy because I'm with my friends. Then, I can go about my day and deal with my own nonesense without them seeing that. However, when I live with people, I can't get away from them and they start to see my dark side. They watch the moods, the crazy amounts of sleep I get, my eating habits, and they know about my general moods at all points of the day/week.
This usually ruins my good friendships because nobody can handle me when I'm trying to handle my own stuff. That leads to questions. I can tell them I don't want to talk about it, but then they get upset that I'm not opening up. Other times, or after a long time of building trust, I start to share a molecule of an elephant with them. There are hundreds of elephants (problems) in my backyard (my mind) and I only share a molecule of ONE elephant with them. Nobody seems to be able to handle this little tiny bit and so they shut down, stop talking with me, and I feel like shit for sharing with them because now they have to carry that burden. This adds another elephant to my backyard.
So, I have two options: 1) don't share, continue to handle my own stuff because I know I can, and spare them the pain of dealing with any part of my burden, but deal with them being sad because I won't open up or 2) get close to them, share a bit of my life after awhile, start to trust them and rely on them to be there for me, and lose them when they realize that I'm not someone who can be saved and what I deal with is heavy, so heavy.
There's no winning.
I went through all of this with Millie and she told me she totally understands. She also told me that she doesn't share with Roomie, and also that Roomie has tried to dig into her (Millie's) life before too. I have been told that Beauty is good at digging and has tried to dig into many other people's lives as well. So, I'm not the only one finding these two friends of ours doing these things. Therefore, I'm not as crazy and I believe I am!
Also, we were sitting after clinicals, talking about some of the projects we are doing together as a clinical group. Some of the girls mentioned one of the other members and started venting about her frustration at the way the member tries to change everything we do and tell us all what to do. Now, the ones that were venting about this person are people that I get frustrated for doing the exact same things, but I'm glad that I am not the only one finding this about this particular member of the group. Out of 7 of us, there are 3 moms (all very used to taking control and all fighting for the control of our group all the time), 2 type-A people that assist in giving me headaches, and one other girl who, like me, does not give a flying rip about what we do. The other girl and I are just trying to survive the semester without banging our head against a wall all the time from the frustration we have at constantly being told 17 different things to do by the 3 taking control and the two type-A-er's.
I thought I was going crazy because I figured everyone was all hunky dory with everyone else in our group. Turns out, the same things and people that frustrate me are the same things/people that are irritating others. I'm not as crazy as I believe!
Ultimately, that realization was nice to have today. I'm glad that I'm not the only one thinking all these things and experiencing these stresses.
One of these days, I'll learn my lesson. One day I will learn that no matter how close I get to someone, I cannot tell them what's going on in my head. One day, I will go somewhere new, where I no nobody at all. I will start over and they will know nothing of my past. I will be cheery around them and save my baggage for myself and unload it when I am home alone. One day, I will learn. People can't handle the molecule, or even atom, that they ask to know. They just can't handle it. One day, I will learn this.
For now, I will get used to the loneliness that I had put aside because people wanted to get close. I will learn to deal with my shit on my own, again. I will move on and try to keep fighting another day. It will get easier again. I will be fine.
Friday, November 6, 2015
Mental Illness
Today I read a post/article about having friends and loved ones that struggle with mental illness.
11 Things Those Who Love A Person With Mental Illness Should Know
I actually found it so helpful and true that I sent it to fiance, but I so wished I could send it to all of my friends and family.
I was going through Pinterest one night at work because I was sad and sometimes it helps me to go through the depression posts on Pinterest because it lets me know that what I experience and think isn't isolated to just myself. It also helps me put words to my tendencies and feelings because sometimes it's hard to describe what I'm going through and what is happening in my head to other people.
Through this search, I found that I am not the only one that goes through isolation because their friends start asking what's wrong and they keep digging. This digging then leads to them asking me to stop talking to them about what is happening in my head because they can't handle the fraction of a percent of the darkness I share with them. I'm not alone in this. Apparently, it happens quite frequently.
So, just a note to those of you who have friends and family (everybody): don't ask if you aren't prepared to actually help and continue to hear about the darknesses and struggles in the lives of those around you. I keep having friends who see me struggling and they think they can somehow help me. Guys, I've struggled with this most of my life and I have not come across a person or thing that can help me yet. G-d helps a lot, but life happens and my head gets messed up again. That's just how it works. However, I am sick of friends and family thinking they can save me, but after a little bit, they realize they can't even deal with my struggles and so they leave me or ask me to stop talking to them. This is absolutely devastating to me and to the others that go through this.
11 Things Those Who Love A Person With Mental Illness Should Know
I actually found it so helpful and true that I sent it to fiance, but I so wished I could send it to all of my friends and family.
I was going through Pinterest one night at work because I was sad and sometimes it helps me to go through the depression posts on Pinterest because it lets me know that what I experience and think isn't isolated to just myself. It also helps me put words to my tendencies and feelings because sometimes it's hard to describe what I'm going through and what is happening in my head to other people.
Through this search, I found that I am not the only one that goes through isolation because their friends start asking what's wrong and they keep digging. This digging then leads to them asking me to stop talking to them about what is happening in my head because they can't handle the fraction of a percent of the darkness I share with them. I'm not alone in this. Apparently, it happens quite frequently.
So, just a note to those of you who have friends and family (everybody): don't ask if you aren't prepared to actually help and continue to hear about the darknesses and struggles in the lives of those around you. I keep having friends who see me struggling and they think they can somehow help me. Guys, I've struggled with this most of my life and I have not come across a person or thing that can help me yet. G-d helps a lot, but life happens and my head gets messed up again. That's just how it works. However, I am sick of friends and family thinking they can save me, but after a little bit, they realize they can't even deal with my struggles and so they leave me or ask me to stop talking to them. This is absolutely devastating to me and to the others that go through this.
- Don't get close and ask people questions if you are not entirely prepared to be able to stick with them and truly help them. They deal with their darkness just fine without you, they've likely done it for a long time.
- Don't ask them questions, give them hope of having support, and then ditch them when you start to hear just a little bit of what they have to deal with. That's cruel.
- Don't think that they be "fixed" by something you do.
- Don't give them unsolicited advice. They know what to do, they know what works best for them. It's not good to tell them (us) what to do because you don't live our life. You have a friend with chronic major depression and you have gone through a slight bout of depression? That doesn't mean you know how to "fix" this for them. Everyone goes through their mental illnesses in unique ways. You can absolutely be there for them and give advice if they ask, but don't tell them what to do.
- Don't ask them why they don't take meds, go to the doctor, or go to therapy. Professional help is good, but don't tell us what to do, that can make us shut down and when we don't do what you tell us to do, we know you're more likely to ditch us anyway.
- Don't force them to talk if they don't want to talk. Chances are, they've been burned before so they are wary of opening up to anyone else because they have seen the ugliness that that brings about in your life and theirs. So, i they don't want to talk, then don't force it.
- Don't dig. This goes along the same lines as the last one. But if they say they are fine and you know it's a lie, just leave it. I know that personally, it is easier to deal with my darkness alone and not fess up to being upset, than it is to say I'm having a bad day and then have to explain it to whoever asked.
- Don't use them. Don't use them as an excuse. Don't overextend them just because you know they will help, this can make depression and a whole host of other mental illnesses worse for the sufferer. Don't use them as an example. Just don't.
- Don't tell them to just get over it. No, we cannot just "get over it". If we could, don't you think we would have? Living with mental illness is not something we enjoy, it's way harder for us than it is for you to watch us, I promise.
- Don't think we don't know it's hard for you. I've watched people struggle with mental illness and it's rough. I understand wanting to help them but not knowing how. I know what it is like to wish that they were back to their normal self, the person that I adore and know.
- Don't play the victim. It may be hard for you to hear what we go through, but you don't have to live it and you're only hearing and seeing a tiny bit of what occurs in our heads.
- Don't take their moods personally. Sad days are going to happen regardless of whether you are there or not. Just accept that we will have bad days that have nothing to do with you even if we are with you all day.
- Don't call them crazy. That's just mean. We aren't crazy, we are just have brains that don't control their hormones at proper levels so then we have "off" days. We aren't crazy.
- Don't assume they don't know how to handle their mental illness. Oftentimes, they've dealt with their problems for a long time. Even if they haven't, they will find ways that help them or other ways that may make them worse.
- Sometimes, just sometimes, it's okay to let them have a bad day. It's okay, it's going to happen. Even if they seem like they've been getting better, bad days will happen again. Occassionally, it's alright to just let them happen. Make sure they are safe, without digging or hurting their feelings, and then ask them if they want company or to talk. Ask them if you can help in someway. If they say no, don't take it personally. If they say yes, be prepared for tough stuff and make sure you stick around and support them how they need.
- Don't make excuses to stay away from them. Are you finding yourself having a rough time dealing with what they are telling you? Don't just ditch them and don't bullshit your way out of spending time with them. You can be honest with them that what they are experiencing is difficult. Let them know that you cannot imagine going through what they are going through. Then, most importantly, reassure them that you won't leave them, no matter how hard it might be for you. Most importantly, keep the promise that you won't leave them by not leaving them. That doesn't mean stay with them 24/7, but just maintain the friendship and keep talking with them.
- Don't act weird around us, we're people too. We have feelings and personalities and we are usually fantastic to get to know! We might just have difficulties with brain chemistry or something. Be patient with us and remember who we are on our good days.
- Be patient. There are days when I don't get out of bed all day except to pee. I actually have had weekends where I sleep for a solid 3-4 days except for peeing. Leave us be and we will come out when we are ready. Sometimes we need to do other stress relieving things. I happen to take drives. I'll drive for hours to clear my head, be alone, and also listen to music. That's okay, let us do that if it helps. Sometimes I walk around stores for hours on end, just wandering. Sometimes playing piano helps or certain types of crafts. Occasionally, just being able to veg out with a children's movie is enough to help me through some of the bad times. Just let it be and we will ask for help or company when we are ready.
- Know that we value you. We understand that we are hard to be around, hard to be friends with, and difficult to love. We really do, I promise. Stick around because we appreciate you getting to know us in the first place and we would love for you to stick around with us. Hug us (after you ask if you can) if we seem to be having a hard time. We may not always verbalize it, but thank you for being with us through our ups and downs.
- Take care of yourself too. If we are saying things that stress you out, make sure you get some stress relief for yourself. Please, don't share our stories with others unless we tell you that you can. But make sure to take care of yourself so that the temptation to leave us is not as strong and you don't get burned out from being friends with us. We love you, we worry about you too which is why we usually don't want to share our burdens with you. We know it's a lot and we don't want to dump the heaviness in our hearts and the darkness in our minds onto you.
Tuesday, November 3, 2015
Compassion Fatigue
I absolutely love working in the hospital. It is so great getting to work on so many floors with so many different nurses, CNA's, and other staff members. It makes clinicals so amazing because I already know everyone and I have gotten quite a few job offers of sorts.
After the incident with EXboyfriend, I had been going down the sleep slope of compassion fatigue. I feel like I care for everyone else, and I do so with all that I have in my heart, but nobody cares for me. Everyone demands so much of me but nobody is willing to shoulder any of my burden, they won't even listen about my burden. So, I am getting increasingly more isolated (even from "close" friends and family) and yet everyone is demanding more and more from me.
I get it, everyone has their own problems and everyone needs help. I totally understand. However, why does it seem okay for everyone to just expect everything from me? Often without even asking if I'm willing to do things, they just assume that I will be available because apparently I have no life and no needs of my own.
I'm not allowed to be selfish for one second. I have to take care of patients who need complete, total care and deal with nurses and CNA's who sometimes don't step foot in the room because the patient needs a sitter so I should be able to completely handle the patient all night long, alone.
I have to keep my shit together, not have any kind of support from anyone, be able to support everyone around me, and slap on a smile so that nobody knows what's going on in my dungeon of a mind.
So, I fight a battle nobody knows about. I have scars nobody has seen and nobody can ever understand. I am completely alone in this world carrying burdens that nobody will help me with. I carry pain with me that nobody can comprehend and I fight for every breath I take. I cry when I'm alone because for the first time in about 6 months, I am finally able to and sometimes I just need to feel something instead of the rage growing inside of me and the numbness from being completely unable to handle any of the immense troubles that weigh down every step I try to take. I am being crushed. I am being consumed absolutely alive by flames while simultaneously drowning and I get no relief anywhere or from anyone.
Oh, so this all led me to quit my job. I have to finish out another two months, or so, but I sent in my resignation letter to my boss last night during my shift. I don't know if I'll be able to be a nurse because I can't even take care of my own basic needs like sleeping or eating properly. How am I supposed to care for anyone else? My heart feels so empty anymore, I don't know if I have the capacity to care for anyone else anymore.
That was my news. Saying that I quit my job was the original purpose of this post but I went a little crazy... I'm sorry guys.
After the incident with EXboyfriend, I had been going down the sleep slope of compassion fatigue. I feel like I care for everyone else, and I do so with all that I have in my heart, but nobody cares for me. Everyone demands so much of me but nobody is willing to shoulder any of my burden, they won't even listen about my burden. So, I am getting increasingly more isolated (even from "close" friends and family) and yet everyone is demanding more and more from me.
I get it, everyone has their own problems and everyone needs help. I totally understand. However, why does it seem okay for everyone to just expect everything from me? Often without even asking if I'm willing to do things, they just assume that I will be available because apparently I have no life and no needs of my own.
- I don't have weekend plans so I can drive my 5 different friends who are on 5 completely different flights to the airport that is 2 and a half hours away, on a Friday night and Saturday morning, no less.
- Sure, I will pay attention in class while you screw around on Pinterest in the back and then give you a play-by-play of exactly what happened in class and every important piece in information you need to know.
- Sure, I will puppy sit all the puppies and not have any chance at a relaxing weekend or any chance at sleeping in.
- Sure, I will be forced to make all the decisions for my school group and friend group and then be criticized at every turn because what I finally chose doesn't work for anyone but nobody else has a fucking idea of what they want to do.
I'm not allowed to be selfish for one second. I have to take care of patients who need complete, total care and deal with nurses and CNA's who sometimes don't step foot in the room because the patient needs a sitter so I should be able to completely handle the patient all night long, alone.
I have to keep my shit together, not have any kind of support from anyone, be able to support everyone around me, and slap on a smile so that nobody knows what's going on in my dungeon of a mind.
So, I fight a battle nobody knows about. I have scars nobody has seen and nobody can ever understand. I am completely alone in this world carrying burdens that nobody will help me with. I carry pain with me that nobody can comprehend and I fight for every breath I take. I cry when I'm alone because for the first time in about 6 months, I am finally able to and sometimes I just need to feel something instead of the rage growing inside of me and the numbness from being completely unable to handle any of the immense troubles that weigh down every step I try to take. I am being crushed. I am being consumed absolutely alive by flames while simultaneously drowning and I get no relief anywhere or from anyone.
Oh, so this all led me to quit my job. I have to finish out another two months, or so, but I sent in my resignation letter to my boss last night during my shift. I don't know if I'll be able to be a nurse because I can't even take care of my own basic needs like sleeping or eating properly. How am I supposed to care for anyone else? My heart feels so empty anymore, I don't know if I have the capacity to care for anyone else anymore.
That was my news. Saying that I quit my job was the original purpose of this post but I went a little crazy... I'm sorry guys.
Wednesday, April 1, 2015
It's that time of year again
Do y'all know what I'm talking about? Tomorrows my birthday. In fact, it's my 21st birthday. Which, in the United States, means I will be legal to drink!
21 seems silly. When my parents were growing up, they could go to the bar at 18. They were in high school! Plus, it's not like alcohol isn't available before then...
Anywho, I have clinicals tomorrow (Thursday) and Friday so my friends and I are making work arounds and making my birthDAY more of a birthWEEK/birthMONTH because Passover also starts on Friday. That means I am going to have a frickin' crazy weekend. Let me just paint you a picture, shall I?
Wednesday: Stay up and go out at midnight? We'll see because I still have to go write careplans and get a little sleep before clinicals and I worked last night.
Thursday: Clinicals, more careplans, go help Boyfriend feed cows (yay!), and then birthday dinner with darn near everyone of my friends, my boyfriend, and possibly my brother/his friends. Good heavens!
Friday: Clinicals, shower/nap?, then go out to a local country bar with everyone I can talk into coming with us.
Saturday: Sleep in... a little, go to Parent's house with Brother for family Seder for Passover and come back home. That's a solid hour/hour and a half both ways. Oh but I love Passover and this year, I get to bring the wine!!!
Sunday: Easter brunch with Boyfriend and his huge family. A couple hours rest, then he and I are going back up to Parent's city to go to mom's congregation's seder with hundreds of people so that Boyfriend can see my culture.
That's a 4-5 day set of crazy and no rest before school starts again crazy on Monday. Oh, and I got a billion assignments assigned yesterday. So, I'm back on my meds...
Breathe BedpanAlley, just breathe.
Have I mentioned I hate birthdays? Oh, it's a passion of mine. This birthday will make it easier to go out with friends but I just don't like getting older and not feeling like I've accomplished anything in the last year of my life besides minor survival, and not good survival at that. It's more of a barely made it through to this anniversary of the evacuation of my mother's uterus instead of thriving like I should be in my 20's, especially the first year of my 20's.
I'm working on being positive. Well, some days I am. Today is not one of those days.
Meanwhile, I survived March and Country Boy's suicide anniversary and the following day with minimal tears. April 11 would have been his 21st birthday. I'm not looking forward to that day. It's on a Saturday and I'm almost certain I may be drinking alone that night or trying to go out to get my mind off of it. We'll see.
I better get going to write my careplans so I can get this "weekend" started! Goodbye for now dear readers.
21 seems silly. When my parents were growing up, they could go to the bar at 18. They were in high school! Plus, it's not like alcohol isn't available before then...
Anywho, I have clinicals tomorrow (Thursday) and Friday so my friends and I are making work arounds and making my birthDAY more of a birthWEEK/birthMONTH because Passover also starts on Friday. That means I am going to have a frickin' crazy weekend. Let me just paint you a picture, shall I?
Wednesday: Stay up and go out at midnight? We'll see because I still have to go write careplans and get a little sleep before clinicals and I worked last night.
Thursday: Clinicals, more careplans, go help Boyfriend feed cows (yay!), and then birthday dinner with darn near everyone of my friends, my boyfriend, and possibly my brother/his friends. Good heavens!
Friday: Clinicals, shower/nap?, then go out to a local country bar with everyone I can talk into coming with us.
Saturday: Sleep in... a little, go to Parent's house with Brother for family Seder for Passover and come back home. That's a solid hour/hour and a half both ways. Oh but I love Passover and this year, I get to bring the wine!!!
Sunday: Easter brunch with Boyfriend and his huge family. A couple hours rest, then he and I are going back up to Parent's city to go to mom's congregation's seder with hundreds of people so that Boyfriend can see my culture.
That's a 4-5 day set of crazy and no rest before school starts again crazy on Monday. Oh, and I got a billion assignments assigned yesterday. So, I'm back on my meds...
Breathe BedpanAlley, just breathe.
Have I mentioned I hate birthdays? Oh, it's a passion of mine. This birthday will make it easier to go out with friends but I just don't like getting older and not feeling like I've accomplished anything in the last year of my life besides minor survival, and not good survival at that. It's more of a barely made it through to this anniversary of the evacuation of my mother's uterus instead of thriving like I should be in my 20's, especially the first year of my 20's.
I'm working on being positive. Well, some days I am. Today is not one of those days.
Meanwhile, I survived March and Country Boy's suicide anniversary and the following day with minimal tears. April 11 would have been his 21st birthday. I'm not looking forward to that day. It's on a Saturday and I'm almost certain I may be drinking alone that night or trying to go out to get my mind off of it. We'll see.
I better get going to write my careplans so I can get this "weekend" started! Goodbye for now dear readers.
Sunday, March 1, 2015
Intense Weekend, I Could Have Died
I spilled the beans to Boyfriend yesterday about the ultrasound. I am not sure if I started it the right way, but I said everything I wanted to say and left out what I shouldn't have said, like about breaking up with him if it's really bad.
He took it like a champ. I think he saw that I was terrified and he knows I don't cry (hardly ever and NEVER in front of anyone else) but a couple tears threatened to stream down my face. He hugged me and I was able to hide it, so I thought, but he told me it was okay for me to cry. He's a worrier too, and I am not used to relying on anyone else for strength, but somehow I can with him and he stayed strong for me and encouraged me. He told me that we would go through this together and I believe that he will/would stick with me through whatever this is. That's new for me. I'm used to being the strength for my friends and for being there for them through/at doctor appointments and scary life things. I am not equipped to let someone else do that for me but I had one friend come with me to my ultrasound and I spilled my fears to her afterwards. I laid it all out on the table with Boyfriend. Mom has gotten all of the information from the very beginning for stuff that I never talk to anyone about.
When I was on my way to his new house this weekend with Roommate in the passenger's seat next to me, we hit black ice. We were on a paved country highway, I was going about 10 mph under the speed limit and we had just passed a few on-coming cars on the two lane highway (one lane each way). I corrected the car successfully about 3-4 times before we did a 180 and ended up in a ditch backwards. If we had been 10 feet further down the road we would have rolled the car and fell off a 15 foot drop off. If we had been a minute earlier we would have hit the oncoming car and I could have killed both of us and whoever was in that car. If we had been a minute later, we would have gotten hit by a semi truck. Roommate's step-dad and cousin were at their house and they came pulled us out. If they had been looking out of their window, they could have watch the entire thing! That's how close we were to them. Praise the L-rd for His hand on us and the scare of a lifetime but support seconds away. When I got back to their house I decided not to continue on to boyfriend's house and the L-rd whispered to my heart that He wasn't going to let me die just yet. With the health scare I am currently going through, that was surprisingly comforting for the moment and I was able to sleep through the night really well when I hadn't hardly slept the night before.
Last night at work I kind of helped save my patient's life! He was on an IV of 125 mL/hr and had not voided for about 12-18 hours because the doctor had the catheter pulled the day before. This is not logical to me but whatever. The pt has dementia and was combative. When I arrived he started coughing with a really wet cough and spitting out what he coughed up. The nurse was notified and he kept suctioning the pt but did nothing besides that. I had just learned about fluid overload in class so I already had my suspicions. Almost every patient on the floor last night was off the wall! There were bed alarms going off all the time and a bunch of sitter patients without sitters because we just didn't have enough staff and yet we were over staffed according to hospital parameters.
As the night progressed I kept pointing out the cough to my nurse and I kept sitting the patient up so that he could clear his throat, but he should have been NPO because he can't swallow right now. I pointed that out and it was dismissed. At about 0400 I checked the pt's O2 sat because I was curious how he was doing, even though I had just taken vitals an hour before. His O2 was 75%! I called the nurse and was told to slap 2L on him. He went up to 86% so I called again. Half an hour later another nurse comes in and tells me to turn it up. 4L only got him to 89% for a moment and then he started desat-ing really quickly. I run to grab a non-rebreather and cranked it up to 15L but that still only held him at 86-89% with me telling him to cough over and over.
Also at about 0400 we did a bladder scan and it showed he had 1000 mL+ of urine in his bladder. The nurse was called but he didn't come in until 0500. 1600 mL drained in a matter of minutes! The nurse was not in for the rest of the night to check on him even though I had continued to report things and the other CNA's (all of which are nursing students and there were 3 more CNA's in addition to me) told him they thought the pt was fluid overloaded. Nothing got done. When the day shift nurse came on she started to do stuff but quickly got pulled away to another emergency so the day CNA/sitter came in and we took over. She is a student nurse too so we called respiratory therapy and the RT that came up was impressed that two CNA's/Nursing Students handled everything the way that we had and we had gotten to the bottom of it when our nurses were too busy with other stuff.
Thinking back, I should have reported a lot more to my RN or gone to the charge, but it didn't occur to me to do so in the moment. I take a lot of the blame for my pt last night decompensating so much, but if I had not been in nursing school and hadn't checked his O2 an hour after vitals (normally spaced 4 hours apart) then it would have been so much worse. So, I go back and forth between believing it was my fault and being frustrated that I was not listened to. I will trust myself more next time and try to better advocate for my patient. He made it through the night and I am so beyond grateful that the L-rd taught me everything I needed to know in class before experiencing what I did last night. I'll have to tell my professor and clinical instructor about it tomorrow.
Talking to mom this morning, I learned she was diagnosed with endometriosis at about my age. I don't know why she didn't tell me before today, it would have been a handy bit of info about a month ago when I called her with my symptoms... Oh well. She told me she wasn't supposed to be able to have kids. I asked if that made her happy when she found out she was pregnant with me because I had grown up feeling guilty and thinking that I ruined her big life plans because she had a baby and then got married because I was born. She told me she was so excited and very shocked because she didn't think it could happen. I've been crying all day because it was the first time I realized that she wanted me from the very beginning and I have no reason to feel guilty about being born. I don't think I've cried so much since Country Boy died and that's be a year on March 30. Well, except maybe when I had a breakdown last semester and started hyperventilating, but that was still about Country Boy. I cried hardcore for at least 2 hours that day and then it was a pretty constant threat of the damn breaking and me crying at any point after that for a couple days.
She wanted me from the very start. She says I am a miracle because wasn't supposed to get pregnant. Then the doctors wanted her to abort because they thought I had a brain tumor and I wasn't supposed to live past 2. I've been in countless situations where I was supposed to die but I always come out without a scratch. Not even a single broken bone (well, my clavicle was broken when I was born but it fixed up real quick and I can't even tell). I could have died in the near crash this weekend but didn't. The L-rd kept me alive through at least 5 suicide attempts and the last one I had taken 50 pills that were either half ibuprofen and half acetaminophen or all acetaminophen, I can't remember. I know that 10 acetaminophen ended a girl, who was my age when I tried it, in the hospital and she was sicker than a dog when she was brought into the ER. The worst thing that happened to me is that I would sleep for about 14 hours and then wake up really tired.
I don't know why G-d is keeping me around, nor do I understand why He performs so many huge miracles for me all the time, but I'm sure glad He does. He whispered to my heart that he has big plans for me but in true G-d fashion, He won't tell me what those are. That makes me laugh though, every time.
Oh, and Nurse Dee, I don't know if you got my comment on your comment awhile back but I sure wish I could hug you. I don't like giving hugs but I give them to special people. We don't know each other in person, but you are such a blessing to me. Thank you for your continued encouragement and sound advice! I think I have found the balance, for now, between being a little bit worried and keeping busy. I will keep you updated and I will email you if something happens that I need extra support on. Thank you Nurse Dee, I truly appreciate your kindness and support through this past year or two. It means so much to me.
He took it like a champ. I think he saw that I was terrified and he knows I don't cry (hardly ever and NEVER in front of anyone else) but a couple tears threatened to stream down my face. He hugged me and I was able to hide it, so I thought, but he told me it was okay for me to cry. He's a worrier too, and I am not used to relying on anyone else for strength, but somehow I can with him and he stayed strong for me and encouraged me. He told me that we would go through this together and I believe that he will/would stick with me through whatever this is. That's new for me. I'm used to being the strength for my friends and for being there for them through/at doctor appointments and scary life things. I am not equipped to let someone else do that for me but I had one friend come with me to my ultrasound and I spilled my fears to her afterwards. I laid it all out on the table with Boyfriend. Mom has gotten all of the information from the very beginning for stuff that I never talk to anyone about.
When I was on my way to his new house this weekend with Roommate in the passenger's seat next to me, we hit black ice. We were on a paved country highway, I was going about 10 mph under the speed limit and we had just passed a few on-coming cars on the two lane highway (one lane each way). I corrected the car successfully about 3-4 times before we did a 180 and ended up in a ditch backwards. If we had been 10 feet further down the road we would have rolled the car and fell off a 15 foot drop off. If we had been a minute earlier we would have hit the oncoming car and I could have killed both of us and whoever was in that car. If we had been a minute later, we would have gotten hit by a semi truck. Roommate's step-dad and cousin were at their house and they came pulled us out. If they had been looking out of their window, they could have watch the entire thing! That's how close we were to them. Praise the L-rd for His hand on us and the scare of a lifetime but support seconds away. When I got back to their house I decided not to continue on to boyfriend's house and the L-rd whispered to my heart that He wasn't going to let me die just yet. With the health scare I am currently going through, that was surprisingly comforting for the moment and I was able to sleep through the night really well when I hadn't hardly slept the night before.
Last night at work I kind of helped save my patient's life! He was on an IV of 125 mL/hr and had not voided for about 12-18 hours because the doctor had the catheter pulled the day before. This is not logical to me but whatever. The pt has dementia and was combative. When I arrived he started coughing with a really wet cough and spitting out what he coughed up. The nurse was notified and he kept suctioning the pt but did nothing besides that. I had just learned about fluid overload in class so I already had my suspicions. Almost every patient on the floor last night was off the wall! There were bed alarms going off all the time and a bunch of sitter patients without sitters because we just didn't have enough staff and yet we were over staffed according to hospital parameters.
As the night progressed I kept pointing out the cough to my nurse and I kept sitting the patient up so that he could clear his throat, but he should have been NPO because he can't swallow right now. I pointed that out and it was dismissed. At about 0400 I checked the pt's O2 sat because I was curious how he was doing, even though I had just taken vitals an hour before. His O2 was 75%! I called the nurse and was told to slap 2L on him. He went up to 86% so I called again. Half an hour later another nurse comes in and tells me to turn it up. 4L only got him to 89% for a moment and then he started desat-ing really quickly. I run to grab a non-rebreather and cranked it up to 15L but that still only held him at 86-89% with me telling him to cough over and over.
Also at about 0400 we did a bladder scan and it showed he had 1000 mL+ of urine in his bladder. The nurse was called but he didn't come in until 0500. 1600 mL drained in a matter of minutes! The nurse was not in for the rest of the night to check on him even though I had continued to report things and the other CNA's (all of which are nursing students and there were 3 more CNA's in addition to me) told him they thought the pt was fluid overloaded. Nothing got done. When the day shift nurse came on she started to do stuff but quickly got pulled away to another emergency so the day CNA/sitter came in and we took over. She is a student nurse too so we called respiratory therapy and the RT that came up was impressed that two CNA's/Nursing Students handled everything the way that we had and we had gotten to the bottom of it when our nurses were too busy with other stuff.
Thinking back, I should have reported a lot more to my RN or gone to the charge, but it didn't occur to me to do so in the moment. I take a lot of the blame for my pt last night decompensating so much, but if I had not been in nursing school and hadn't checked his O2 an hour after vitals (normally spaced 4 hours apart) then it would have been so much worse. So, I go back and forth between believing it was my fault and being frustrated that I was not listened to. I will trust myself more next time and try to better advocate for my patient. He made it through the night and I am so beyond grateful that the L-rd taught me everything I needed to know in class before experiencing what I did last night. I'll have to tell my professor and clinical instructor about it tomorrow.
Talking to mom this morning, I learned she was diagnosed with endometriosis at about my age. I don't know why she didn't tell me before today, it would have been a handy bit of info about a month ago when I called her with my symptoms... Oh well. She told me she wasn't supposed to be able to have kids. I asked if that made her happy when she found out she was pregnant with me because I had grown up feeling guilty and thinking that I ruined her big life plans because she had a baby and then got married because I was born. She told me she was so excited and very shocked because she didn't think it could happen. I've been crying all day because it was the first time I realized that she wanted me from the very beginning and I have no reason to feel guilty about being born. I don't think I've cried so much since Country Boy died and that's be a year on March 30. Well, except maybe when I had a breakdown last semester and started hyperventilating, but that was still about Country Boy. I cried hardcore for at least 2 hours that day and then it was a pretty constant threat of the damn breaking and me crying at any point after that for a couple days.
She wanted me from the very start. She says I am a miracle because wasn't supposed to get pregnant. Then the doctors wanted her to abort because they thought I had a brain tumor and I wasn't supposed to live past 2. I've been in countless situations where I was supposed to die but I always come out without a scratch. Not even a single broken bone (well, my clavicle was broken when I was born but it fixed up real quick and I can't even tell). I could have died in the near crash this weekend but didn't. The L-rd kept me alive through at least 5 suicide attempts and the last one I had taken 50 pills that were either half ibuprofen and half acetaminophen or all acetaminophen, I can't remember. I know that 10 acetaminophen ended a girl, who was my age when I tried it, in the hospital and she was sicker than a dog when she was brought into the ER. The worst thing that happened to me is that I would sleep for about 14 hours and then wake up really tired.
I don't know why G-d is keeping me around, nor do I understand why He performs so many huge miracles for me all the time, but I'm sure glad He does. He whispered to my heart that he has big plans for me but in true G-d fashion, He won't tell me what those are. That makes me laugh though, every time.
Oh, and Nurse Dee, I don't know if you got my comment on your comment awhile back but I sure wish I could hug you. I don't like giving hugs but I give them to special people. We don't know each other in person, but you are such a blessing to me. Thank you for your continued encouragement and sound advice! I think I have found the balance, for now, between being a little bit worried and keeping busy. I will keep you updated and I will email you if something happens that I need extra support on. Thank you Nurse Dee, I truly appreciate your kindness and support through this past year or two. It means so much to me.
Thursday, September 25, 2014
Most Fascinating Lunch
I was able to go out to lunch with a very dear friend of mine today. She and I were nearly inseparable from Best Friend and his roommate freshman year. Last year us girls and the guys hit a bit of a rough patch and then Best Friend and I decided to "try" the "going out" thing. If you recall, that did not go well.
Today at lunch I got a bit of a shock. Okay, a complete and total mind blowing load of information was dumped on me at lunch. Are you ready for this? Seriously, prepare yourself.
Anyway, after I broke up with Best Friend, turns out that he started hanging out with my gal friend a lot. That was not normal. What was unusual, however, is that he started sitting closer to her. Started cuddling. He gave her her first kiss. They made out on a few occasions. He grabbed her butt. Etc. Etc. Etc. She asked him if they were now more than friends because of the intimate moments they shared (as explained above). He told her they were only friends. Odd friends because they kissed, but he maintained that they were just friends. She was so hurt. She didn't want more than that in a relationship but she felt like a booty call because he would come over late at night just to make out with her and lay with her on the couch.
Ya, that bit of information infuriated me. The fact that she didn't tell me earlier so that I could help her get out of that unhealthy relationship made me hurt deeply for her.
After doing that to her, he moved onto another friend of mine. They had plans to go to a concert and even bought their tickets. Several months later, and only about a week before the concert, he texted her asking if it was okay if he brought his girlfriend along. She was crushed because she thought that concert was going to be a date with him. She had also just gotten over a really bad break-up and she trusted him.
My anger is mounting even as I relive this story.
Who knows how many other girls he went through before finding his current girlfriend. Who knows what he really wanted with me to begin with because what he told me is very, very different than what he has been doing. I thought I could trust him but it was all a big sham.
The kicker? I feel like another friend died because the Best Friend that I felt so close to and shared everything with was nothing like this new person in his same body. I thought it was bad enough that I just didn't have him in my life anymore but this feels worse, somehow. Like my experience with him was fake or an act. Maybe it was a dream and I didn't really live through what I thought I lived through.
Lunch was enlightening, infuriating, and heart breaking all at the same time. It was good to catch up with my good pal, but I wished people would tell me these things so that I could help them!!! I could have done something! I could have counseled her through this! I could have prevented her from giving him her first kiss. Praise the L-rd I did not give him mine.
Today at lunch I got a bit of a shock. Okay, a complete and total mind blowing load of information was dumped on me at lunch. Are you ready for this? Seriously, prepare yourself.
Anyway, after I broke up with Best Friend, turns out that he started hanging out with my gal friend a lot. That was not normal. What was unusual, however, is that he started sitting closer to her. Started cuddling. He gave her her first kiss. They made out on a few occasions. He grabbed her butt. Etc. Etc. Etc. She asked him if they were now more than friends because of the intimate moments they shared (as explained above). He told her they were only friends. Odd friends because they kissed, but he maintained that they were just friends. She was so hurt. She didn't want more than that in a relationship but she felt like a booty call because he would come over late at night just to make out with her and lay with her on the couch.
Ya, that bit of information infuriated me. The fact that she didn't tell me earlier so that I could help her get out of that unhealthy relationship made me hurt deeply for her.
After doing that to her, he moved onto another friend of mine. They had plans to go to a concert and even bought their tickets. Several months later, and only about a week before the concert, he texted her asking if it was okay if he brought his girlfriend along. She was crushed because she thought that concert was going to be a date with him. She had also just gotten over a really bad break-up and she trusted him.
My anger is mounting even as I relive this story.
Who knows how many other girls he went through before finding his current girlfriend. Who knows what he really wanted with me to begin with because what he told me is very, very different than what he has been doing. I thought I could trust him but it was all a big sham.
The kicker? I feel like another friend died because the Best Friend that I felt so close to and shared everything with was nothing like this new person in his same body. I thought it was bad enough that I just didn't have him in my life anymore but this feels worse, somehow. Like my experience with him was fake or an act. Maybe it was a dream and I didn't really live through what I thought I lived through.
Lunch was enlightening, infuriating, and heart breaking all at the same time. It was good to catch up with my good pal, but I wished people would tell me these things so that I could help them!!! I could have done something! I could have counseled her through this! I could have prevented her from giving him her first kiss. Praise the L-rd I did not give him mine.
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