I quit my second job. I know, I barley got hired on. The position left me hiring all over. That was expected and fine. But, what I didn’t expect was to be dropping dishes on my second night. I seriously couldn’t hold on to a plate any more. I ended up quitting due to not being physically able to do the job. I would have loved to stay on, but that wasn’t an option for me. I need a job where I can keep the grip strength that I have.
I have a repeative stress injury. I knew about it when I took the job. But, this one make my pain level jump from 2 to 10. I expected that, and I was prepared to let my wrists grow stronger, and then slowly return to the level 2. that’s my currant acceptable level. My left is still sitting at a 5, and can get up to a 8 over the normal course of the day. after typing this, for example. But, i’ve dealt with this for years.
SO, I’m counting this as a lesson: strengthen wrists before taking the job… don’t expect to do it all on the job when working more then 2 shifts a week at a new place. Give it time to recover, instead of back to back to back shifts, work less days and as soon as done, put the braces on before starting the car to go home. Leave them on until it’s time to stretch and work out.
Now that I have a better idea of what my bodes going to need, I can move on to the next thing with what I’ve learned.
I’d much rather be starting a business, but affording mental health care now is the first step to making the business work. I’m only hopping that I can make it happen.
I have never been a follower. I’m not much of a leader, but I do make my own choices. This is why I have issues with the mental health professionals that I know. They keep on acting like they have a better idea of my life then I do. At my latest intake exam, I had one tell me that I should get a job dealing with people in the AM’’s because I have sleeping problems.
Mind you, if I were to get a job in the AM dealing with people, I wouldn’t be able to keep it. I’d have one too many bad days, and be fired. With my currant job, I’m mostly alone, and can go off and cry/panic/cope as needed. Most of my job is on my own, and free from anxiety causing stuff. Then he scheduled my next appt. for when I’m normally sleeping.
So, is he on my team? No. If the idea that I should go get another job that actively triggers my anxiety isn’t enough, could you just schedule me for a time when I’m available? One that’s not going to get everyone who I live with annoyed, and destroy my sleeping schedule?
If this were a one time thing, it would be different. But I’ve never had, in my years of dealing with them, a “metal health professional” who didn’t proclaim that there answers were the best, and who was willing to answer a single objection, or a single question. I’m used to doctors working with me more. They will at least give me a b.s. answer. I don’t always call them on it.
I just don’t understand why it’s so hard to find someone in the mental health world who understands what it’s like out there in the real world. I don’t need people just giving orders. What I need is people who are going to help me find solutions so I can get back on track. Back to writing and photography. Get to the point where fear isn’t the controlling part of my life.
Getting to sleep is really hard. Staying asleep is almost as hard. Even when I’m rested, I don’t want to get out of bed. I’d rather lay in bed, watch netflix, and read book then move. The problem is that this leads to me feeling crappy about my self. It also has lead to a decrease in showers (but thank’s to the good deodorant I skip smelling.). This decrease in me doing stuff outside of bed has lead to an increase in wrist pain, and That makes me not want to get out of bed.
So… I’m getting off of the ‘problem train’ and going to start taking sleeping pills again. I’ll pair that with setting-up times for me to be working on specific projects that I’ve got going. I’ll set this up today while I’m at work. I’m switching trains. The new one hopefully will let me go where I would really, really like.
There was a traumatic even, and I needed space to recover.
I used that space to journal, to take photographs, and spend lots and lots of time in bed. I also saw my wonderful doctor who got me on meds that are still helping me. But, there sidefects are almost more then I can bear to deal with. The most painfull one? I can’t do creative writing. I can still do the “true” writing, but don’t ask me to write a story, or to even be able to come up with a story. I just can’t do it. I know me, and I know my meds. It’s the meds. this happens every time I go on the newsiest one that I’m on.
I will be coninueing from where I am now, not where I left off the blog. Somethings should only be left to me, for me.
The first time I did art therapy, I was given a set of mostly dead markers. The only one that really worked was blue. so, I did my whole thing in blue. whatever. I didn’t think that it was going to be used against me to put me on meds. With the way that it was used, I think that it might have been done on purposes. Blue could just imply being under water, or being viewed through water, yes? Well, instead it was insisinsted that I was “depressed” when what I was at the moment was board, uninterested, and kinda pissed off that I was being asked to do *art*.
Needless to say, That didn’t work for me. I knew that I wasn’t an artist, that my work wouldn’t ever be understood long before that. In school, I was lucky enough to have some art lessons. However, my teachers didn’t like my art. If I tried to draw things from inside my head, I’d get more sessions with the school councilor. I will never understand why attempting to draw things was such a problem. I was teased, always teased for my artwork. Never was I praised for it, so I know that I wasn’t much good.
So, why would I go back to art? To overcome my fears. To express emotion with a few basic storkes in a safe place for me to do so.
Right now, the plan is to practice once a week. one complete art work, expressing fear right now. I’m hopeing that I will be able to get it out of me… that this will help me get over and deal with and process the amount that I’ve got chasing me right now. Hopefully the combination of this and the thyroid meds are going to be enough. Even if The thyroid meds are a “fix” I’ve still got to go back and deal with the emotional results of the fear. Just because the cause could be that doesn’t change how terrible the effects of it were.
I was starring at page 1 of 24. I have no idea what goes into the (insert kindergarden here) paragraph(s). I don’t even know if this part of the story should be written. Am I now writing something that will be, (If anyone looks at it) will be crossed out and say “why is this in the story?” “why is this detail being added?” well.. for two reasons. 1. I believe that there is enough of this story to become a novel. 2. I didn’t show anything until page 5, 3. This story is more interesting to me right now then the start of the other.
Maybe it’s time that I step back from the keyboard develop a true and undying love of the Johnny Mop. If I continue at this slow pace, I’ll get a novel ready for sale by about the time the sun destroys the planet… and there’s no money in that. At least a clean toilet is faster, and will be enjoyed by more people. Plus, that’s an easy one to turn into profit.