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.

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.

Current Mood: Sick

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

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!

What’s with the real world encroaching on your Internet time? Geez, how rude of it! I was at the start of what could have been quite a serious convo with a friend via Gmail chat earlier tonight and the phone rang. The phone call kicked the real world in and I realised that I had to sort out my offline life for the evening. I didn’t get back to the computer until hours later and it was like … poof! … I should have stayed with the computer. Mmmm!

It’s not only that, but I have become completely obsessed with the online game, Guild Wars over the past few months. Losing yourself in hours of Guild Wars play is a fantastic way of … well … losing yourself. If dissociation can ever be a good thing, then Guild Wars dissociation is the best. After hours of constant play, I find myself wanting to control the real world with just a simple click of a key, not to mention expecting to speak to only people with green exclamation marks hovering over the heads. I mean, you don’t have to worry about anyone who’s not sporting a green exclamation mark, right? It’s weird, but after hours of Guild Wars play this sensation of needing to hit a key to control something in the real world is a literal sensation. I actually find myself thinking that that’s what I have to do. Mmmm, obsessed much?

Once again, though, the real world has to take precedence on occasions and I find myself having to cook, clean, work and all sorts of random crappy real world stuff. Mind you, have I recently mentioned just how much I suck at being a housewife? Cooking and cleaning and all that jazz are things I do not do effectively by any stretch of the imagination. Mind you, my hubby sucks at the traditional hubby stuff too, so I guess we make a good pair. Yikes! A good pair … what a scary thought.

The real world just sucks, let’s face it.

Mmmm, I am writing dribble. Is it making sense to anyone but me? I doubt it!

Anyway, speaking of the real world, I start my new job next week. I have to travel into Semi Big Smoke for a few days training on Monday. I wonder if I will have any time to hit the shopping centres? Screw the working part of the trip. Who needs to be concentrating on that? :p

What I do have to do during my trip to Semi Big Smoke is to find a dentist to go to. Before Christmas, the filling in a tooth that I had root canalled a few years back split in half. It feels like one half of the tooth is just hanging there, desperately trying to stay adhered to the gum. It feels horrible and it’s painful if I chomp down on it. Dentists … yuck! If I don’t get my butt into gear and do something about the poor tooth soon I am scared that I will end up losing it. That would be horrible though. I mean, I am only in my 30’s for goodness sake. I can’t start losing all my teeth yet, surely!

OMG, this post has turned out to be really quite random. Time to give up on it I guess. Better luck keeping on track next time, hey.

Current Mood: Hot

I can’t seem to shake these blues lately or, for that matter, the strong feeling of wanting to just disso out for a good long while. It’s playing havoc on my ability to leave the house. I really have to psych myself up for it as it is the last thing I want to do. These sensations have been making it very difficult for me to complete my work on the weekends. I guess my saving grace in regards to the whole work thing is that this fake personality seems to take over when I am out and about taking photos. Although I can sometimes feel uncomfortable about the fake personality taking over, at least it enables me to approach people to take their photographs and, if I happen to strike a mean drunk which is a rare but unfortunately a real possibility, their comments are like water off a duck’s back for that moment in time.

Having said all that though, there was one thing I had to do for work the weekend just gone which had the potential to be enjoyable if I wasn’t in the middle of such a funk; that being driving around the nearby communities taking photos of the businesses and houses that are involved in this year’s local council Christmas lights competition. In the spirit of Christmas and with the hope that it will cheer me up a little, I’ve decided to post some of the photos I took. So here goes … Christmas lights central Queensland style:

Happy holidays everyone!

Current Mood: Blank

GBF warned me that this week had the potential to be an absolute shocker astrologically speaking … something about Jupiter’s position … and, at least for today, he appeared to be right on the money. I woke up feeling desperately down and not wanting to move, but dragged myself out of the house to quickly visit the local newsagency to buy a newspaper and a couple of puzzle magazines. After returning home and binging on some not-so-healthy cakes I bought at the bakery next door to the newsagency (so much for giving hubby a yummy cream bun in his crib tomorrow), I headed straight back to the bedroom, turned the fan on to assist the ailing air-conditioner and moved from that spot as little as humanly possible for the rest of the day. This evening I had to leave the house again to visit Woolies to buy some food for hubby’s crib for his day shift tomorrow, but I was so disorientated and clumsy that I was like an alzhiemers patient trying to walk through thick mud. I feel so bloody dissociated. I am one step from completely retreating into myself and sitting there unable to move or communicate with the outside world. Thank goodness for journals/blogs. At least I can type through these feelings and sensations; an ability for which I will be forever grateful.

Anyway, time for some good news I suppose. Although I was originally unsuccessful with the job interview I had back at the end of October, it turns out that I have been offered a job with the company after all. Actually, it is the same job I applied for; the part-time receptionist position. Although I was second on their list of initial candidates, the original receptionist who was on the interview panel recently gave her notice. I guess the person who pipped me at the post for the part-time receptionist position has now moved up to the main receptionist position and I get to take over the part-time position. I start early in the new year and will work on Tuesdays and Thursdays which suits me down to the tee. Now if I can just keep this mental health shit at bay, I will be laughing.