Current Mood: Blank

Arrived home from a six week hospital stay last night. I may write about it later … not sure. I’m at a loss at the moment because I don’t know what I should be doing. I guess I should slowly start integrating myself back into normal life but … meh, whatever. Time will tell, I guess.

Posted by Kym on 04.20.2008 • Mental (Ill)Health - Comments (5)

FFS, what does one’s sexuality have to do with being a murderer? The media astounds me! I guess Aussies still have a lot to learn if this type of reporting is indicative of the state of society.

Posted by Kym on 03.08.2008 • The Occasional Rant - Comments (3)

For once it is right, but I’ve no more strength to muster. It’s depleted, left, gone. I’m acutely aware of the destructive influences and, fuck it, I may just give into them. It’s been a long time coming.

Posted by Kym on 03.08.2008 • Miscellaneous - Comments (2)

Earlier this evening, just before I was about to run out the door to visit a friend, the unmistakable shrill of the telephone sounded. In a similar situation, I would normally either ignore the ringing or, at the very least, rush to the computer room’s telephone to see who was calling through that phone’s caller ID before I postponed leaving the house. Tonight, however, I almost automatically picked up the phone thinking that it was the friend I was about to visit as he had already rung earlier to ask where I was.

When I answered the telephone with the customary “hello”, the voice that responded to my greeting was not that of my impatiently waiting friend. It was the cordial but very straight to the point voice of my mother’s de facto partner. Ernie (let’s use his real name here) stated that my mother wanted to inform me that one of my uncles had passed away.

Instantly I found myself on guard. I adopted my professional receptionist telephone manner and said something to the effect of, “Oh, that is so sad!” Ernie matter-of-factually went on to ask if I would like the family’s address to send a condolences card, to which I replied, “Do they still live in Burpengary?” Almost instantaneously, he rattled off the correct address and that was that. Nothing more was said. Through his tone, the phone call was plainly over. The necessary information was given. There was nothing more to be offered.

After the telephone call ended and despite the sadness of the occasion, I found myself beginning to dredge up all the anger, upset and disappointment from the past contacts from my mother. I was amass with conflicting emotions and yet not-so-strangely numb. There is no denying it, my mother’s behaviour in the past has been very cruel. Now, it has obviously come to the point where I am no longer worthy of even speaking to.

I guess that sounds rather harsh, as my mother is obviously dealing with quite a significant measure of grief over her brother’s passing, but enough is enough. Over the years, she has put me through hell. Although, unlike my brother, I didn’t receive her physical abuse. She has verbally and emotionally abused me since I was a teenager though.

I can honestly say that I have done nothing to that woman to warrant her pitiful behaviour towards me. Am I finally coming to the conclusion that I am not to blame for this situation? Hopefully, because I think, although I’m not totally sure yet, that this is really the case. She MUST take responsibility for her actions. She MUST shoulder ALL of the blame for the breakdown of our and many other of her relationships.

As I was writing this post, I heard a clank at the front of the room. For some strange reason the video player, which hasn’t been switched on for ages, came to life and started rewinding the long-forgotten tape which was housed within it. I instantly searched for the location of the remote, just in case either myself or one of the dogs had mistakenly nudged it. It was innocently sitting at least a metre away from me on the couch and it was switched to the TV mode rather than the video player mode. Was the timing of the video player mysteriously turning itself on a coincidence? Probably! I must say, however, that it was a bit of a Twilight Zone moment.

Posted by Kym on 02.20.2008 • Miscellaneous - Comments (3)

Current Mood: Dumbstruck

I don’t know what to think of this.

Earlier tonight I received a phone call from one of the journalists from the newspaper I take photos for asking me if I could work this weekend. No problems, right? I’m not well, but I am feeling better than I was feeling last weekend when I was so dissociated that I didn’t even know who I was or where I was for a time there. Anyway, the journalist asked how I was feeling which was innocent enough because I couldn’t work last weekend. From there, though, things got a little strange.

I answered her query regarding my health with words to the effect of I was feeling a little better. She then asked if I was getting treatment for “it”. “Umm, okay,” I thought, “That’s a bit of a weird question.” I ran with it anyway, despite not knowing what she was really referring to, answering in the affirmative. The journalist then went onto say that she knew how full-on it could be.

Now, like I said, I am not well and, as such, my brain is not functioning at it’s highest or quickest capacity. I let the above conversation slide into what job was on this weekend, what time it was on and what photos the newspaper wanted. It wasn’t until after the conversation was over and I had hung up the phone that I started to fully wonder what the hell had just taken place.

What part of my illness from last weekend was the journalist referring to? What did she think I was suffering from last weekend? My husband and I certainly hadn’t said anything last weekend when we had spoken with staff from the newspaper saying that I was sick and wouldn’t be able to work. We had just said that I was feeling ill and couldn’t work … end of story.

What the hell do the people from the newspaper know? Has some random person said something to them about my mental health issues? They are my employers for goodness sake, and while there is nothing to be ashamed of regarding my mental health or lack thereof sometimes, it’s certainly not any of the newspaper’s business.

So, in essence, I am feeling a little paranoid. Is it something to be concerned about? I suppose not. However, who the heck has been talking to who? I understand that knowing someone with mental health issues can be a little full-on sometimes. I put my friends and husband through some shit last weekend due to how I was feeling and my weird actions, let me tell you. My husband wouldn’t say anything to anyone though. Heck, he wouldn’t even discuss what happened last weekend with my best friend in this town. My best friend would have only debriefed, if needed, with someone I trust to keep everything confidential. The other set of friends who were there last weekend when I flipped out in front of them don’t really understand mental health issues, so I don’t think they would have said anything much.

The only other person who had dealings with me last weekend rang me up when I was self harming and totally out of it. At the time, I automatically answered the phone … stupid me … I usually check the caller id before I answer telephone calls, but was too out of it at the time and just picked up the phone … which resulted in the friend virtually flying around to my place. She saw the blood. She was freaked out by the fact that I couldn’t respond to her talking to me because I was so dissociated.

Would she have said anything to anybody though? Maybe? She might have needed to debrief after the incident and spoke with a friend of hers or something. I don’t know any of her other friends though. I don’t know if they are trustworthy. I don’t know what has happened.

Meh! What does it matter in the grand scheme of things? Probably nothing at all. What does it matter if any rumours are running around this small town of mine regarding the state of my head? I’m a private person, so I probably won’t come up against any of the rumours personally, if there are any rumours at all. It’s just that the only full-time job available in this town for the newspaper has been advertised as vacant and I was considering applying for it. Will I even get a look in for the job if the newspaper knows this about me? Do they even know? Here’s that paranoia again.

What right do I have even thinking about applying for a job with more hours than the two I am currently working? Is taking on the extra job last month the reason why I am struggling with dissociation so much over the past week and a half?

Fuck, who cares? I think I am doing me head in.

Posted by Kym on 02.15.2008 • Mental (Ill)Health, Work Work Work - Comments (2)

Current Mood: Sick

I’ve taken on so many different forms today that I’m no longer sure which one is the right one.

Posted by Kym on 02.06.2008 • Mental (Ill)Health - Comments (2)

This time last week I was feeling just a tad stressed. (Mmm, is that an understatement or what?!?) I was nearing the end of my first training day at my new job. I was thrown into the fire as quickly as possible too. Because of the recent holiday period the administration section of the business was understaffed and there I was in a reception area that usually housed three personnel with only one other receptionist trying to efficiently man the telephones and deal with walk in clients, all the time not being fully aware of how the systems worked. Despite the air-conditioning, I was sweating buckets. However the positive part of the story is that I survived enough to reluctantly get up out of bed the next morning and do it all over again.

By Thursday though, I had been released from the busyness of the Semi Big Smoke office and transplanted to the local office. Thankfully, the local office ran completely differently from the Semi Big Smoke office. There was only one physiotherapist where the Semi Big Smoke had half a dozen of them, plus other allied health professionals all relying on the same administration staff. In the local office, meeting and greeting clients and answering telephones takes a back seat to catching up with all the paperwork from when there is no receptionist present. (The administration staff … all two of us … only work limited hours while the physiotherapist works a forty hour week or so). While no where near as stressful as the Semi Big Smoke office, the local office is just as busy in its own way, although thankfully, it’s a busyness that I think I can handle in a much more successful way.

On another positive note, I will be working by myself in the local office, apart of the physiotherapist of course. While the Semi Big Smoke receptionist and I got along famously, the local office’s other receptionist frankly gave me the shits. She’s quite young and studying to be a high school teacher. As careers go, she will probably fit in well as a teacher at a high school too. As a receptionist though, she leaves a lot to be desired IMHO. Although she does try hard, I have never met someone with less personality than her. I found it extremely difficult to communicate with her in anything other than a strictly professional sense. It was a shame, but thankfully something I will not have to concern myself with much in the future.

Tomorrow is the first day I will go it alone. At this stage, I am not concerned. Maybe that will change tomorrow when I am settling into the job … I don’t know. I guess only tomorrow will tell because I’m certainly not going to allow myself to be worried about it until then.

Ciao!

Posted by Kym on 01.14.2008 • Work Work Work - Comments (4)