wonderful

I made the mistake of opening up my email today.  There, in my INBOX, was an email from a very NICE co-worker of mine.  She is always pleasant.  She's a sympathetic sort.  I can always count on her for a smile or two. Of course I opened it.  Of course.  I was expecting happiness.

What I read was completely different from that.

Now.  If you KNEW someone was home on doctor's orders...  If you were AWARE that they had had some sort of melt-down... Would you send them an email telling that person the following things?

• Everyone has a backlog of at least two days worth of work.
• H called in sick, and S was on vacation on Monday. So it got even worse.
• I started to cry on Tuesday because things are so bad here.

So umm.  How EXACTLY did she THINK this was going to be HELPFUL to me?  Or did she not think at all?  Or was she just letting me know, so that I could plan my NEXT BREAKDOWN?  People are un-"F"ing believable.

Pass me the pills please?

I'm going to need them when I go back on Monday.

undone

On top of all of the OTHER stresses I have in my life, there is the FAMILY things that are happening.  One of which is my brother's marriage.  You may ask WHY I have anything to do with this?  I would ask that question as well.


When they were first married, some 20 years ago, they had a HUGE blow up; a fight of EPIC proportions.  And my brother came home to live with my Mom.  He told the story to anyone who would listen.  He told of how HORRIBLE his wife was; and how she had abused their trust, and nullified their marriage vows. In short, he made sure that everyone in the family was ON HIS SIDE of the argument.


And then they got back together.  And the rest of us were left with resentment and bitter feelings.  While they were making sweet love, the rest of us were sucking lemons.  And swallowing.  Ten months later, a sweet angel was born.  She was truly our little miracle. 


It was hard to accept the SIL after everything my brother had shared.  But we did.  She was, after all, the mother of my niece, and my brother's beloved wife.  I have grown to love her as a sister.  She is always there for me.  It would be only natural that she would THINK I would be there for her too.


Except for one thing.


I don't think that married women (or even married men, for that matter) should share the intimate personal details of their marriage (good or bad) with people who are close to them. OK, maybe there are SOME things that CAN BE shared.  BUT... there are some things that should NOT. 

• I don't want to know if my brother is verbally abusive.  THIS is something I cannot fix.
• I don't want to know that his fights with a few of his children have become shoving matches. Shoving matches between a child and a father? THAT is something I want to fix.  Again.  I cannot.
• I don't want to know about him throwing things and breaking things.
• I don't want to hear about him yelling.  or stomping out of the house. or driving off in a rage.
• I don't want to hear that he gets on the phone with a buddy and jokes about his 8 year old son being GAY; joking where the 8 year old can hear him.
• I certainly don't want to know that he interrogates the 18 year old after EVERY date she goes on... asking completely inappropriate and PERSONAL questions about what happened on said date.  For hours at a time.  Is it any wonder that this child doesn't WISH to date anyone?   

I do not think my brother is the only one who has problems. Oh no. I know that my SIL does too.  She is not blameless in all of this.  But to hear my brother tell the story, she is whacked out on drugs (really?), has multiple personalities (looked in the mirror much buddy?) and is generally abusive to all children (this person who runs a Day Care out of her home and is scrutinized by County agencies? OK....).  Yes, she spends too much of their hard-earned money.  I would too, if it gave me a few fleeting moments of pleasure; pleasure that my marriage does not give me. She tells me that he has ALWAYS had these problems.  OK. Then why did you continue to make babies with this man?  Why didn't you RUN from the angry outbursts when you had the chance, some 19 years ago?  Like... BEFORE the babies started coming?

Sadly enough, I am planted firmly in her camp.  And my mother is planted firmly in my brother's camp.  We have agreed to disagree.  Then again, she does not know the THINGS that I KNOW.  When my SIL told me the things listed above (and more... OH SO MUCH MORE), I decided NOT to share them with Mom.  And I forbade HER from sharing them with Mom too.  She cannot take it right now.

And neither can I.  One of the hardest things I have EVER had to do, was look her in the eyes and say, "SIL, I can't hear any of this anymore.  I am too emotionally undone to hear any more of these stories.  I KNOW you need to tell someone; to share the burden with someone.  I am NOT that person.  I cannot be that person right now.  I am sorry.  I just can't."

The look in her eyes nearly killed me.  If I hadn't been on the Lorazepam, I would have crumbled into a puddle and cried.  I could see how hurt she was. Of course I explained what was happening to me.  She understood then.  

She is seeking help as well.  Therapy has been procured for the SIL and the children.  Incidents have occurred where the police have been called.  Child Protective Services has become involved.  A lawyer has been consulted.  My brother will likely be asked to move out. 

My mother knows very little of all of this.

The 8 year old posts to Facebook: "Ugh. Another fight with my Dad. I wish life were easier."

And THAT... undid me.  

lists... i make them

So, I think I had a *melt-down* on Thursday.  At least, that is what I would call it.  I began to cry around 1:30-2:00-ish... and didn't stop completely until after 8PM.  I guess I'd had enough.  Enough of what? you might ask.  Enough.  Of everything.  EVERYTHING.

Here are some of the things on my mind this day, as I am on a doctor mandated SICK day to get my feet back underneath me (and as I wait for my first appointment with a Psychologist):

• the coworker tapping
• the coworker that was seen digging in someone else's purse and is STILL working there. 
• the fact that i have to LOCK my desk EVERY TIME I leave it, for fear of him digging through my purse.
• the inane insane ridiculous asinine phone calls from the other department - asking me to give them information I do not have, nor do I need.  If they need it, shouldn't they be calling the people who supply that information?
• the rush Rush RUSHING I am expected to do.  without any break in the work load.
• the new STUFF that Upper Management (UM) comes up with.  Stuff that we are supposed to accept without question.  Stuff that sounds good on paper, but when it comes down to being USER FRIENDLY... well it fails in major ways.
• the lack of training for such pet projects.  Three months in and I STILL don't know how or why?
• the general lack of common courtesy in my workplace.
• the lack of direction from our supervisor
• the lack of understanding from her too. (and she has been in our shoes!)
• the FORMS (!!!) that have to filled out for every task we do.  (again, the pet project of UM!)
• coworkers that pretend to have your best interests in mind, then leave little treats at your desk, knowing full well you will eat them and suffer the consequences.
• having to pull my own files, while the file room staff works on yet ANOTHER pet project of UM.
• seeing the file room staff prepare fancy coffees for staff  when there is perfectly GOOD coffee in the break room that anyone can enjoy for FREE!
• knowing that while they are supposed to be working on that project, they are really walking back and forth from the kitchen, making the fancy coffees, when they COULD BE helping me pull my files!  (ohIMUSTblogaboutTHISlater!)

I know that ANY job I would go to would have these (or similar) problems to endure.  And endure I must.  Usually I would be ABLE to handle all of this.  I'm a big girl.  I handle stress.  I thought I handled it pretty well.

It's just that all of the above was combined with OTHER stresses.  Family stresses.  My own personal crap (oh yes! I have CRAP!).  The death of my father - which (who knew?) has caused me some anxiety in ways I could not have imagined.  And watching my Mother as she watches HER mother (my Grandma) slowly fade away.  It's all very stressful for me.

I'm certain that it will all work itself out.  I am seeking help.  I will heal.  I will be back to my strong, silly, sarcastic and witty self.

Soon.  

demons, demands and daydreaming

Where should I begin?

July 2010 was quite possibly the most stressful month of my life to date. At least that's how it felt. Work was extremely busy (which has become the rule and not the exception).  My moods were swinging wildly (not an exaggeration at all).  All I wanted to do was daydream, plan cruises, think about renovations, and play games (can you say ESCAPE from REALITY?).

To put my finger on the WHAT that is making work so stressful is hard.  I have (for the past 5 years or so) always been the person that gets assigned the work that requires more intense thought.  There is more room for error when working on things that are outside of the norm.  I am completely aware of the fact that if errors are made, management will notice.  It's hard to remain calm and confident, when the person requiring your finished product changes his mind daily; or goes on a week's vacation and is unavailable to answer your questions.  It's nearly impossible to create a finished product that is praiseworthy, when the procedures are changed at a moment's notice, and no one tells you.  And when they do tell you, it's too late to do things in a timely manner... your turn-around window is GONE.  *sigh*  I don't expect you to understand.  It's my world.  The world that I live in.  And I need my job.

Most of the time I would tell you that the variety of what I do, is why I like what I do.  Because most of the time ~ I do LOVE what I do.  It is never the same thing over and over.  It's different.  Every day. Most of the time I can handle the fluctuations of the job.  I can handle the snippy comments of those I work with.  I can tolerate the idiocy of the people around me.  This month?  I felt the strings of sanity slipping away. (OK that sounds worse that it really is... I am NOT going insane.)(I hope.)

Bright spot on the horizon?  They WILL be hiring another person.  Soon.  OH MY GOD!  I am so beyond happy about that... I might cry.  Right now.  At my laptop.  I'll probably be the one that gets to do the training.  Hopefully we get a half-way decent processor.  There are a few people in the department that might want to move over to our area. (Should I inflict this pain on someone I like? or warn them away? Tough choice.)

When pushed to the limit on the commuter train; when they tried to shove eleven passenger cars of people into five?  On a hot day? At the end of a long and stressful day?  And I had to stand next to THE MOST OBNOXIOUS woman on this planet we call EARTH? (I know this woman - and I do not like her at all.)  We are packed like sardines and she begins calling, loudly, for the bartender. She was probably three people away from me; far enough away that she could hear me, but not close enough to slug me.  When she said, "Bartender, where's my martini?"  I said (out loud - oh my!), "In your system with the other 4 you finished before you got on this train?"  She turned and said, "What?  What did you say?"  I pretended to not notice her at all.  But when she turned back to the person on her right to make more loud comments, I said aloud, "Lush."  I was shocked and appalled by my behavior.  That's not like Lovely Rita.  That's what sealed it for me.  That is when I knew for sure.

I've been in this place before.  I've been angry and weepy and moody.  It's depression; mild, but depression nonetheless.  I recognize it.  It's trying to take me down.  So far, I am OK.  I recognize what it is... and so far, I am winning the battle.  I am trying to sleep more.  I have improved my diet.  I have even taken some good walks in the evening.  I plan on taking more.  I will beat these demons. And I will probably scream a lot here... and purge my every dark thought.  Or.  I will just talk about what MIGHT be bothering me.  Or.  Both.