When I went to my supervisor’s boss, she assured me that there would be no retribution, revenge, or hostility that would come from it.  She even told me, after I was done telling my story about how uncomfortable I was working with her, that she didn’t think my supervisor should supervise anyone.  That’s how bad it is.

Now I’m not sure what my supervisor told her supervisor, but there was a meeting between the three of us and her supervisor decided that my boss should stay the same.  Assured me there would be nothing negative to come from it.  I knew, even sitting there in that meeting, noticing how my supervisor would not respond to things I was saying, noticing how she kept trying to make me look bad (by dredging up ancient history), noticing how she pretended that she didn’t know I was unhappy or that there was a problem…I knew that there would be continued issues.

Now they’re just quiet issues.  I moved my office and am much happier with my working environment.  I don’t have daily contact with her, and when I do email (which is rarely now), she usually doesn’t respond, or gives short and abrupt replies, such as “ok” or “This is someone else’s responsibility.”  Ok fine.  Since she doesn’t respond to my emails, I send even fewer.  I don’t think she knows what is going on with my caseload at all.  Maybe she wants it that way, maybe she doesn’t.  I really don’t know.

At the meeting, one of her biggest complaints was that I email her too much.  Well, I can fix that.  The main reason I was always emailing her was because I thought she would want to stay up-to-date on the cases I am working and because I knew that she used the emails I sent her for my performance evaluation.  Now I dread my next one, in April.  Lord only knows what she’ll say.  I am saving all emails and will just print her out a big stack when the time comes.

It has become really ridiculous, really.  She is short with me when I call, mainly giving one-word answers, “Yes, OK, that’s fine.”  I don’t know why I am expecting more.  Maybe it is because I am a people-pleaser and I don’t like being treated in an unfriendly manner.

I don’t feel like a have a supervisor at this point, at least not like any supervision I’ve ever had.  She wanted to know at the meeting why I was going to other people for help and not her.  Well, when she doesn’t respond to my emails, won’t talk to me in the phone or in person, and acts like I am wasting her time, rolls her eyes, sighs heavily, or gives a smart response anytime I mention a case,  then why would I?

Blech…maybe I should have just suffered in silence.  This is almost worse.  I hate being ignored and not taken seriously or, more frequently, not given the time of day.  I hate it in any area of my life, and this has been especially difficult.  One of these days maybe she’ll find a new job or she’ll retire, and I’ll breathe a deep sigh of relief, and (many, many) years from now, I might even look back and chuckle a little about how bent out of shape I was over this.  For right now, though, it’s anything but funny.

Ministry, Revenge

My buddy, Pond Princess, has loaned me her rosary and I am learning to pray it.  I find it very soothing and like the prayers I am meditating on are being heard.  I just keep praying for God to make me willing, and to help me to turn things over to Him.  In some ways, I am very willing, in other ways, very willful.  It is a daily struggle to take things as they come, without trying to orchestrate my own life.  It’s all about letting go and floating.

I have been trying all I can do to use the skills that DBT has given me.  I am staying busy, and working constantly at turning my mind from the pain.  I accomplished a lot over the weekend, and that feels good.  I am also using sacred self and trying to take care of myself.  My sleep and eating has been out of whack, but I know that will settle down if I just get back into my routine.  It’s the getting there that’s the hard part.

Prayers for Pond Princess’ mom and more for my family, as it seems we keep going through the death and dying of our loved ones.  If you don’t pray, give some thought or light a candle for us.  My family and I feel loved and blessed by all of our friends, and I know that right now we are leaning hard on all of you.

Lauryn Hill and Tanya Blount, His Eyes are On the Sparrow

So, the anxiety is still there.  She is basically ignoring me, which I suppose is fine, but it makes for very uncomfortable exchanges between the two of us.  Or, rather, very uncomfortable when I attempt to tell her anything and she ignores me.  It doesn’t seem to matter what I say, her answer is “Ok.”  Nothing more than an “ok.”  Well whatever.  I wish I didn’t care so much, but I do.  This is painful.

To some degree, I regret going to her supervisor because it has made her swing her attitude even further against me, but at least now I have my own office and am not stuck in that hell-hole with her and my other two negative co-workers.  I trust about 1.5 people in the whole facility, and a few at Central Office.  It is difficult not to have a go-to person when I am having a problem, because I sure don’t feel like I can bring anything to my direct supervisor and she has discouraged me from contacting anyone else.  In a way it is still a very negative work experience, and I guess I should just get a thicker skin, and realize that there will be no pleasing her, no returning to the easy relationship that we once shared.  In some ways, I am grieving that loss and dealing with my own issues about wanting to please everyone.  I just don’t understand why people (myself and her included) can’t just get along.  I really don’t.

In other crap news, my Grandma died yesterday.  It hasn’t fully hit me yet, but I know it will.  Right now, I am just feeling guilty because I haven’t seen her since this past Spring, even though we live in the same town.  After my Grandpa died in 2004, it was all I could to to bring myself to visit Grandma.  I was so angry at her for such a long time and then felt nothing toward her.  No sense of obligation, no sense of love, nothing.  As QoB said last night, her death is somewhat the loss of what could-have-been.  That desire for acceptance never faded, but it seems that I lost that from her a long time ago.  Now, there is no going back and trying again.  In some ways I care about that, in some ways I don’t (at least not right at the moment).  I think what I am struggling with most right now is my complete ambivalence about her death.  It’s difficult to think that I cared so little that I don’t have an opinion or a feeling about her passing.

The Wallflowers, I Wish I Felt Nothing

My house is coming along beautifully.  Seems like every so often some change or improvement gets made, and I really enjoy being at home.  Christmas decorations and tree (not decorated, just lights) are up, thanks to QoB, and it feels pretty homey here.

There has been a part of me that has not really been looking forward to Christmas.  I managed to buy two people gifts from Amazon, but still have four more people that I would like to find something for.  Last night at QoB’s, Big Dog gave me a bit of a lecture and said that it isn’t about the money.  Ok, it really isn’t.  For some reason, every year, I have spent tons of money on Christmas and I guess I really don’t have to do that.  Well, I CAN’T do that, expecially this year, because money is so tight.  It is hard to break that habit — the one that screams at you to find the perfect gift, no matter the cost.

I am not the best gift-giver.  I am not terribly creative when it comes to things like that, and it seems sometimes like I am not really sure what they might want.  It is kind of stressful because so many other people in my family are excellent gift-givers, and don’t even spend much money.  It just isn’t a talent I have.

Work has been stressful and I am dealing with some issues with the ol’ supervisor again.  It has finally become bad enough that I am going to talk with her supervisor to see if I can’t get a new supervisor.  I talked to my dad about it tonight, because I am getting really mixed messages from different people about whether it’s a good idea or not, and he made a lot of sense.  He said to just not make it personal, and stick with the issues that make my work life difficult.  That makes sense to me.  I guess I am mostly worried because my supervisor seems so vindictive and it is hard to say what she will come up with to say about me.

My Weight Watchers weigh-in is tomorrow and I am interested, but not excited.  I am assuming that these steroids are what is making me feel starved all of the time.  I was just reviewing my progress for the week and, Monday thru Thursday I was super-good.  Friday and Saturday were not so good.  This is how it usually trends.  I think that if I can stay away from beer today and not give into this killer urge to get a DQ Pumpkin Pie Blizzard, then tomorrow will be just fine.  And if not, weight is just a number.  I feel thinner, people are commenting about my weight loss, and my clothes are looser.

So, the title of today’s blog, “The Curse of Never Being Satisfied.”  When I sit down to blog, I have all of these ideas running through my head of what I want to write about.  I’m not an organized blogger, where each post is about one topic.  It’s more of a mish-mash and that’s just how I write.  Words come from my fingers almost faster than I can get them out of my head.  I have the tendency to set my title before I type my blog, so sometimes they don’t match.  I rarely go back and change the titles.

I went to my step-sister’s house today to see my niece and check out her new digs.  It’s a tiny house, but she has it decorated very nicely and, while it is not my style, it is very homey.  She has even decorated for fall, complete with hay bales, pumpkins, scarecrows, and the like.  When I went to her house, I felt jealous that she had everything “just-so” and I still don’t have any pictures hung up.  It was kind of depressing.  I even heard these little whispers that told me that my house didn’t measure up.

Then I came home, and that is SO not true.  My house is way cuter, much bigger, has a better layout, and is super-spacious in comparison.  It just isn’t decorated to the 9′s.  It has great light in every room, and I have a lot of nice antique furniture.  The wall colors are all picked out by me, and I feel at home in every single room.  This is the perfect house for me, on the perfect plot of land, and I really wouldn’t have it any other way.  I will get it all decorated eventually, and until then, it still rocks.

Funny how our mind can trick us.  Just yesterday I felt so good about getting my few “big” purchases made for the weekend (gas, dog food, cigs) and didn’t think I needed another thing.  Today, I feel like I need to go to Walmart and buy a tea kettle because a cup in the microwave just isn’t good enough.  I get silly with money like that, and it is sometimes all I can do not to just spend spend spend.  So, I am not going to any stores today.

I looked at recipes today, thinking that I would really like to do some cooking.  But why would I do that?  I have dinner in the freezer, more QoB leftovers, good as the day they came off the stove.  I have some things I could make out of the groceries I already have, but nothing sounds good, except for ham and beans and cornbread, which I will likely have tomorrow when QoB returns from the lake. Eating leftovers saves me money, saves QoB from throwing out huge quantities of food, and I don’t have to cook (which I love and hate, at the same time).  I think I would feel better about it right now if I had been helping her more lately, but deep inside my brain I know the reason for not helping much has been that I have been sick.  I’m tired of being sick, have I mentioned?

In fact, I’m so tired of it, that I have decided at this very minute, that I am no longer sick.  I’m just done.  I will stifle every cough and sniffle, ignore every headache.  I will not complain anymore.  That’s my new goal for the week.  Acting as if I am well, will make me well.  Put that in your pipe and smoke it, nasty illness.  Just go the eff away.

Sheryl Crow, I Can’t Cry Anymore

As I may have mentioned before, work is becoming a real drag.  After trying not to bother my supervisor too much, she had the immediate reaction yesterday afternoon to try and track me down across the compound, because she didn’t know where I was.  Hmmm.  Either you want to supervise me or you don’t.  Make up your damn mind.  Did she really think I was slacking off, or did she just HAVE to know what I was doing at that very moment?  I think my boss has issues.  Maybe even some sort of personality disorder.  I know that a good friend of our family knows her and has always put it out there that she is a “crazy beeotch.”  Yes, I may be starting to realize that.

Aside from that little piece of work drama, my impossible cases are coming together, kind of like they always do.  Or maybe not always, maybe usually would be more accurate.  I tell inmates that things always work out, one way or another, and in general, this is true.  They might not leave the facility with the most ideal plan, but they WILL leave the facility, and there WILL be some sort of plan.  Even if it is effed.  Sometimes we can only do so much.  It seems like I re-learn that lesson every day.

I went to bed at 7:30pm last night.  It wasn’t that I was exhausted physically, I just couldn’t keep thinking about all of the BS that was yesterday.  Yesterday made my stomach upset and the two beers I had at QoB’s while waiting for Big Dog to tell me that I am fucking up did not settle well.  It is really difficult when someone assumes that, if your supervisor is annoyed with you, it is because you have been sick to work a lot lately.  Yes, I have been sick a lot lately.  Here I am, though, still sick and going to work.  I really don’t want to end up in the hospital and I have just been following doctor’s orders, for the most part.  When you can’t breathe, it makes it difficult to work.  I don’t think I would ever want to be supervised by Big Dog.  He’s a hardass, expecting the rest of the world to be able to never miss a day of work like he does.  I gave up on being perfect some time back, thanks.

As I said last night, I really don’t want to talk about it anymore.  I was looking for reassurance and ideas, and that didn’t come.  I do thank Adriana for her kind words about being a supervisor and what supervisors would like to see.  Constructive criticism there.  Always appreciated.

I have been talking a lot lately about all of the “aha” moments that have come my way as of late.  I can think of one more thing that my thirties has brought me.  My parents are not infallible people.  They make mistakes, they have flaws, they struggle with certain things.  It is not all about me.  I repeat, it is not all about me.  They are people too, with complex and varied life experiences.  They are who they are, and I shouldn’t put so much stock into every little word that is said.  They are people, after all, and people sometimes say things that you should take with a grain of salt.  Apparently that applies to parents as well.  This is not to say that I don’t take in what they say, and I’m not very good about taking what they say with a grain of salt, but it is something I want to learn.

And bringing it back to me, because this blog is, after all, about me…I have issues, too.  I have flaws and imperfections and I say things I don’t mean.  I think that makes me human.  I have spent all of these years trying to be perfect, only to realize that this is not possible.  I have to be who I am, based upon my background and life experiences.  I can only do my best and hope that the rest of the world can learn to roll with it.  I still struggle with wanting to be perfect, but it seems that I have come to accept and recognize my downfalls, my “issues,” if  you will.  Self-acceptance, radical acceptance.  It all goes hand in hand.

Queen, Love of My Life

Something I have actually found is, the older I get, the more I realize that I don’t know.  Things I thought I had figured out…nope, not even close.  Things I didn’t think I knew anything about, I find myself knowing a little more now.

It has seemed to me, as of late, that my co-workers are frazzled and burning out.  In particular, my supervisor has seemed especially annoyed and irritated with me.  I asked a co-worker about it today, just to check and see if he was sensing what I was.  He told me that she was annoyed and irritated with me.  That all of my checking in and letting her know about things happening on my caseload bothered her.  That I was needy and needed constant confirmation and reassurance.  Well, I can see how that might be.  I also tend to talk about things I have already emailed about.  That is also apparently annoying.

I have tried talking to my supervisor many times, and here within the past six months just get an “I’m busy” and an annoyed look.  If I don’t want to chat with her about the new car she wants to buy or the latest family drama she has going on, she doesn’t want to hear from me.  It’s really strange, because I am just realizing this almost as I type it.  Whooooo epiphany!

What is so strange about this is that, from the start, she has put herself right in the middle of my job.  She wanted to be kept in the loop, updated, etc.  Now she just doesn’t give an eff.  I am trying not to take that too personally.  As QoB reminded me, I am always talking about how burned out she is, and now I should realize that, by being burned out on her job, part of that being burned out has to do with my supervision.  Well ok.

I’m not too sure what to do about all of this.  I don’t want to try and talk to her, because she’ll just think I’m needy and am complaining (something she said today, “you never come in here except to complain.”)  I guess I thought that employees were supposed to come to their supervisors with their difficult cases and concerns.  Apparently I am doing too much of that.

So, because she has changed, I need to change how I operate when communicating with her.  I can do that.  I don’t like change, but I can do it.  It is difficult to take 30 years of neediness and put it aside, but I think I can do it slowly.  I think I have actually made some progress in that area in my personal life, over the past few years, and I know I can apply it to my work life.

Now that I know all of this, I have my “duh” moment.  Her constant crap mood is not about me.  It is directed at me sometimes, but I am not the root.  If I were to come into her office to talk trash about anything, she’d eat it up.  If I go to her office to talk business, she doesn’t want to hear it.  This is not about me.  I repeat (mostly to myself), this is not about me.

After some thought, and a suggestion, I unfriended anyone associated with work from my Facebook page today.  It was a good feeling.  I looked at the people left on my friends list and thought, “Wow, I really would like to know more about what those people are up to now!”  I also unfriended some people that I just find annoying.  What a relief.  Who knew that “unfriend” button could bring so much satisfaction?!?  QoB did, that’s who.

QoB also once sent me this YouTube, before I knew what it meant to actually work in a cubicle.  Things that make you go hmmmmm.

My Cubicle, A James Blunt parody

On another note, I don’t think it is depression that is doing me in, I think it is the last six weeks that I have been sick and been unable partake in my normal routine and busyness on the weekends that has me down.  Who wouldn’t be a little depressed after six weeks of working sometimes, not other times, and laying around most days?

I went back over to QoB’s yesterday night after I blogged.  A couple of my parents’ friends stopped by that we hadn’t seen in awhile and it was nice to chat.  I felt almost normal.  I realized that what I am lacking here is normal human interaction.  Not talking to mentally ill inmates, not talking to my even crazier co-workers…normal human interaction.  I am starved for it.

Something I also realized is that I am a bit lonely for a male companion.  Not lonely enough that I am going to do something about it, just noticing that it would be nice to have someone.  I am not getting ready to jump in a relationship, but the thought of one does not repulse me at this moment.

Not having much energy at the moment, so I’ll have to keep this short.  Bottom line is that I still feel like hell physically but have found that I don’t have to stay that way.  I just need to get well!

Mouthwash, Kate Nash

All of this sickness is making me depressed.  It is throwing my world off-kilter and I can’t seem to get it to straighten out.  I am not interested in anything, feel like sleeping all of the time, and am not enjoying being around people.  I am annoyed and irritable.  I can’t see a way out.  My brain is telling me that all of these physical illnessess will never go away.

I thought blogging might help, but my heart isn’t in it.  I just came home from QoB’s and, while I almost always enjoy my time there, it wasn’t doing it for me.  Trying to keep up a conversation took such energy and I just didn’t have it.  I found myself being annoyed with myself that I couldn’t just be happy and enjoy her company.  So I left.

Now I’m at home.  I like being at home.  My dogs are here, I have nice places to sit and relax, it is comforting.  But sometimes I feel lonesome.  At the same time, however, I can’t stand the thought of being around anyone.  It all takes too much effort, and that seems to be effort that I don’t have right now.

Part of me thinks that I am talking myself into being depressed, that this is all my fault.  These feelings are not true and I am giving up and giving in.  Because that is what I do.  I have been trying to do things to ward off these feelings — meditating, sacred self, sitting in front of my sun lamp, staying in a routine.  But I feel like my whole heart isn’t in it.

I keep hearing this voice inside my head, “You’re depressed.  You’re letting yourself go down that road.  You are so lazy.  Why can’t you just be happy?”  That last one…”why can’t you just be happy…” bothers me the most.  I don’t understand why I can’t just be happy.  I am pretty sure that I was enjoying being happy before all of this illness came upon me.  Now everything feels wrong.

What happened to all of that energy, all of those good feelings?  Why didn’t I enjoy it more when I had it and what can I do to get it back?  When will I start feeling less sick all of the time?  Am I still sick or am I just depressed and my mind is telling me I’m sick?

I can’t find anything truly good to say.  I have cases at work that are stressing me out, and I feel like there isn’t anything I can do to make some of these situations better.  There is a lot of in-fighting in my office area and it is becoming just so very clear to me that my supervisor likes to stir the pot.  I am almost dreading going to work every day because I am being faced with these impossible cases and all of the tension and back-stabbing that is going on in my office area.  I just don’t know how to move forward, tell myself that I am doing all I can.  I really feel off my game.

At work, a lot of times I feel like I give and give and give and help and help and help and no one gives a shit.  I guess if, at this age, I am still expecting to be patted on the back and given an “atta girl” that I am out of my damn mind.  It used to be different, though.  At least I thought it did.

I want to be a good person, a better person.  I want to be happy and live my life free.  I want to have the energy that it takes to do these things.  I want to not have to take all of these pills and inhalers and pills and inhalers and pills and still feel sick.

I am annoying myself, so I must end.

When You’re Gone, The Cranberries

Long story short, yes, I do have staph.  No, it is not MRSA.  Wound remains about 3/4″ deep.  Abcessed area is 2″x2″, down from 4″x3″.  I am healing, but too fast.  Yesterday, my ARNP cut me back open and messed around in the wound.  She then told me that the dressing that keeps getting applied isn’t going to work, because there is too much drainage.  Obviously…I had to go back twice yesterday and every day this week.

I am really liking the ARNP that I have seen a couple of times for my cyst wound and I have an appointment scheduled with her to become my new primary care doctor.  She is even going to do my psych meds, which would be fabulous, because going to the community mental health center is hell.  Especially now that my ARNP at the CMHC thinks that I am a drug addict.

Having an Rx for Clonopin does not make me a drug addict, especially when I barely ever use it for PRN.  Anyone that knows my Clonopin-taking habits knows that I rarely use it, even when I need it.  Because I do not want to be a DRUG ADDICT.  Ok, still a little peeved at that lady, but I’ll get over it.  As long as I don’t have to see her again.

Back to my new ARNP, who I shall name Giggles.  She really seems to know her stuff, she is friendly, supportive, and always listens.  She makes time to see me and talk to me about my concerns and makes me feel better by really explaining things to me.  That is hard to find sometimes, when you have Medicaid for secondary insurance.

I worked my four hours today and am not going to do anymore.  I worked for two hours, took a 30 minute rest on the couch, and then worked another two.  I was busy during that time, but it was super-painful to sit that long.  I may or may not have tried to do a few things at QoB’s house, just to take a little stress off of her.  The rest of the day calls for the couch, and then back to the clinic this evening to have my wound repacked and redressed.  I did start a load of laundry, but we’ll see how far I get with that.  Baby steps, baby steps.

It is funny how physical pain can make you feel mentally unstable.  I have to keep reminding myself that I am not getting depressed.  I am laying on the couch and taking naps because my physical well-being REQUIRES it.  I am only working half-days at work because my doctor REQUIRES it.  Sometimes I just need to give myself a break.

I have been at odds with my stepsister for the last month or two.  My dad told me a few choice things that she said, and I was already fed up with her behavior before that.  She is mean to her kids, verbally abusive, really.  That bothers me.  The youngest just turned one year old and the older is 11.  Also, when I go over to her house for dinner, I bring everything to make dinner with me and she doesn’t contribute at all.  And then she gets upset if I take home extras with me.  Things that make ya go, “hmmmm.”

She called yesterday to invite me to my niece’s first birthday party slash new housewarming party.  I was relieved to tell her that I had a staph infection and could barely sit, therefore I could not make it.  I am not mad or upset, I just don’t want to be around her.  I don’t find that I get anything positive from it and it is often upsetting.  That is part of my life now — choosing what I will and won’t tolerate and sticking to it.

Kizz and Birdie have been driving me a bit crazy lately.  Birdie is still not house-trained and my beautiful hardwoods are getting ruined.  I really think that they will clean up with some Bona treatment, but it is hard getting around to that when I am all gimped out.  I am looking forward to feeling better so I can catch up on that.

The dogs also really have separation anxiety, and that can be stressful.  They chew up things, they act crazy when I leave and when I get home, and they rebel when I leave them alone for longer than a work-day.  It has been good for them for me to be around more, and I think that now that summer is over, I will be home more often in the evenings.

Now that I live closer to my parents, I am doing a lot more of going over for a few hours and then coming home around 7:00 or 8:00.  That seems to work better than when I was at the old house, not being able to stand hanging out there, and being gone from 7:00am to 9:00pm, and then going straight to bed.  They hated that, and so did I.

I am really enjoying being back to blogging and am trying to find a few more blogs to follow.  I enjoy reading about other people’s lives, their struggles, their dreams.  Reading another person’s words can be so inspiring and uplifting, and can also remind you of where you came from and why you aren’t going back.  I hope my blog does that for a few people, and even if not, I enjoy doing it just for myself.

Cheers to Thursday…it’s almost the weekend!

Sheryl Crow, Soak up the Sun