I wrote a thousand words today · 6:36am Jan 2nd, 2017
So... uh... hey everybody.
This update is long overdue. Like... probably a year overdue.
Jesus it's been more than a year, hasn't it? That's just... depressing.
Alright, so, it's high time I bothered to explain myself. I've been hiding away for too long. This blog is probably going to be pretty long so bear with me.
Buckle up, buckaroos. I have a LOT to get off my chest.
2016 sucked. I'm sure most of us can agree on that point. With rising global tensions skyrocketing to crazy new heights, innumerable celebrity deaths, an American election with the two worst candidates in American history as our only two choices, terrorist attacks striking places on the globe seemingly every few weeks, a growing population of perpetually offended bigots parading around, causing trouble, and spreading misery and misinformation under the guise of being tolerant, caring, and accepting... 2016 has been just about the fucking worst year.
But for me it was even harder.
In the very first week of 2016 my family basically fell apart. My aunt and my father got into a pissing match that had ripple effects across the whole family. My mother (my uncle's sister) took the side of my father. My uncle took the side of my aunt. My grandmother originally took the side of my aunt, then took the side of my mother, then switched back to my aunt. I was stuck as one of the only people trying to actually stop these adults from acting like children and act like a family again. Unfortunately, in the very first week of 2016, I failed when, for a minor infraction, I ended up in my own, unrelated heated conflict with my sister. My mother came to the brink of a nervous breakdown because of it and a friendly sibling relationship that we'd maintained over 20 years pretty much came to an end. My father retreated into his acting "career" (he's retired so he spends his days in the theater now) and has basically started doing his own thing with no regard for anybody else's feelings or needs. My grandmother, whom I live with, eventually decided nothing was wrong and just kept living the way she had been, completely oblivious to everybody's troubles because she's old and she's been having a hard time since my grandfather died so nobody wants to burden her with their troubles. And my aunt got the satisfaction of having "won" whatever petty argument she and my dad were a part of.
The beginning of 2016 was not a fun time for me, and it would quickly only get worse. I was already not in the best of mental states before it. I've been living pretty much jobless for most of my life. A few times I've been considered for various positions. One time a cousin of mine nearly got me a job as an editor at Amazon, and for a while that looked like it was going to go through, but they backed off at the last minute. The same thing happened several times when I applied for work as a bartender. I literally don't know what it is about me, but when it comes to getting a job, somehow I'm toxic. I don't know what the deal is.
So when my aunt (the same aunt) offered me a job in February of 2016 I snapped it up. I was, of course, still reeling from the complete collapse of my family and I wasn't thinking about what I was getting into. And of course, I'd been denied any other chance at work and it didn't look like that was going to change anytime soon. My aunt works as a child psychologist, and through the power of nepotism, I was granted a place in her workplace.
At first it seemed perfect. I graduated with a degree in psychology, after all. And there weren't many jobs out there for somebody with a bachelor's in psychology but not a masters. Meanwhile, most other places didn't want to hire anybody college educated because they were "overqualified."
...Granted, psychology was something I got a degree in because I found my true calling towards the end of my senior year and there wasn't enough time to change my major... And I didn't exactly have fond memories of being a psychology student... and that same aunt convinced my grandfather not to fund my taking a fifth year because she convinced him that nobody would ever hire somebody who took five years of college... but hey! It was a job! Something I'd never truly had beyond volunteer work.
So of course I took it. There was some hesitation, as I remembered how much I didn't like much of my psychology courses, but as soon as it looked like I might turn the offer down my aunt got all huffy and started saying things like "I don't even know you anymore" and "I guess I misjudged you" and stuff like that. While that wasn't the ultimate reason I took the job, it did help sway me in that direction. The ultimate reason I took the job was because, well... I'd never had one before and damn if I didn't need one.
And so, thanks to the powers of nepotism and not my own hard work and achievement... I got a job.
My job is hard to describe. For the sake of simplicity let's just call me an aide to a group of child psychologists specializing in the field of disability with 'room to grow.' Basically this means that I am an aide/research assistant/whatever I'm needed to be for a bunch of disability child psychologists and I'm expected to stay in the field and eventually become a full fledged disability child psychologist myself.
I hate this job.
I hate it so goddamn much.
I hate it and I hate myself for taking it.
And it shouldn't be that way, you know? I should be thankful. I should be happy that I have a job at all. I should be happy that I had a family member that could get me into such a position where I can start making a lot of money and eventually live the "American dream" or some crap like that. I should be thankful and happy and grateful and by not being so I'm a whiny entitled little shit rich kid who wants his way or something like that. People would kill for my position. People would kill to have my level of security. There are people who can't even afford to feed themselves or clothe themselves or bathe themselves and I have all of that and more handed on a silver platter.
So not only do I hate the job... Not only do I hate myself for taking the job... but I can't help but hate myself for HATING the job as well.
Why do I hate the job you may ask?
It's because I'm not strong enough. I'm not strong enough mentally or emotionally to deal with the patients that I am forced to deal with now.
The thing is... the saddest, ugliest, most depressing side of humanity is rarely seen. People with severe mental difficulties usually are hidden away from the rest of society because they cannot begin to function in that society. Most people don't see these people. They're in institutions or homes or something. A lot of people don't even realize these people exist, or if they realize they do exist, then they don't realize the scope of it.
It's going to sound overly dramatic, but I've seen true despair in the past 10 months. I've seen a deep dark well of despair and pain and anguish and anger and rage and I wish I could unsee it. I don't know how the people around me can deal with these people every day.
Most days it isn't so bad. A child comes in with some minor neurodevelopmental disabilities. Mild autism. Mild down syndrome. Something like that. The child will need help and certainly the parents are upset that their child isn't "normal" but they will adapt. They will learn to cope and maybe, with the right help, the child will someday become a functional member of society.
But then there are days that are much worse.
One of the worst images burned into my skull is of one family in particular. A mother, a child of seven, and his older brother. The older brother was eight years old. He was so severely autistic he was completely infantile. He could not speak. He could not communicate in any way. He did not recognize when others were speaking to him. He would fly into tantrums at random. He was not potty trained and still wore a diaper. He could not feed himself and, in fact, was so unwilling to bear most foods that he straight up would otherwise starve himself. Sensations, you see, are experienced differently by the autistic, and whether it was the texture or taste of food, he could not and would not abide by it. So he had to have a feeding tube mechanism installed in his stomach. But the most shocking thing was his self-mutilating behavior. Yes, you read that right. Self-mutilating. For you see, the child wouldn't abide food being put in his mouth, but he loved sticking his fingers in his mouth. And biting down. And chewing. He would literally try and eat his own fingers if his mother didn't constantly watch him. His hands were wrapped in bandages and casts.
I should be grateful having this job, right? But I can't be. Not when I witness things like this.
I remember seeing that family. I remember seeing a mother who couldn't have been more than forty looking ten or fifteen years older than she should have, her eyes dead and dull and frown lines etched so deep into her face. I remember that seven year old brother, sitting dejectedly in the corner, slowly kicking his feet and staring at the ground as his brother shrieked bloody murder, threw chairs around, and shat his diaper full of diarrhea.
This image is never going to leave me. This is what I mean when I say I've seen true despair. I've seen families with no sense of hope... who have no hope. There is no hope for that child. He will never be competent enough to lead a normal life. He will either be institutionalized, or live with his family until the day they die and he has nowhere to go. THEN he'll be institutionalized.
The worst thing... the thing I'm terrified and horrified and ashamed to admit is... that this has not made me any more sympathetic towards the severely mentally disabled. I have instead grown to resent them. I can't understand how we let that boy continue to be such a burden upon his mother and brother. That poor seven year old boy will never have a normal childhood. His brother will continue to take up all of his parents' time and energy and he will continue to make his life a living hell.
This is just one example, of course. I've seen a lot these past few months. This was by far the worst example, and it's the one that sticks with me, but there's been so many more. The nonverbal child who physically tried to attack his mother, and was getting big enough to actually cause damage... The child who was virtually catatonic as her parents cried over their daughter's lack of responsiveness... A child who was so resistant to wearing clothes of any sort that he had to basically be covered up with a blanket in an oversized stroller, and who knows how much longer that would work since the child is going to get bigger.
And I feel so bad for the families. I feel awful for the families that have to put up with this. And I'm exhausted. All the time. Every day. Working with these people is so exhausting. The families desperately want reassurance that their child will be alright... and most of the time they will be but then there are those times... with cases so severe that there is no hope. And you have to tell them there is no hope. And you have to try and find a way to word it so that the parents don't break then and there. You have to sugarcoat it and find ways to phrase it to lighten the blow and give some semblance of hope, but it's completely false. There is no hope for some of these children. And you have to sit there and tell half, twisted truths. And they can tell. They can tell there's no real hope but they cling so hard to that false hope.
I can't do this job.
I really can't do this job.
I'm not strong enough to do this job.
And what's more, I'm not sympathetic enough to the patients. I'm sympathetic to the families. I'm sympathetic to patients that ACTUALLY have a chance. But when the patient really, truly, has no chance and all they will do is continue to be a burden on their families for the rest of their lives... I'm ashamed of it and I know it's wrong to say this and I feel awful for feeling this way... but I'm not sympathetic towards those patients. Their families yes, but the patients themselves... no.
I am not fit for this job. I am entirely unfit for this job. I am maybe the worst person to do this job.
I've come to the conclusion that my aunt (who you might have realized by now and who I've only very very RECENTLY realized is a bit of a manipulative bitch) has some sort of grand design for my life. At some point in the past she witnessed me talk my sister down from a depressive episode. This was when we were still on good terms. Events this year have changed that and now my depressive sister is on her own and won't listen to a goddamn thing I say. But my aunt. My aunt witnessed me talk my sister down from an episode and she decided "My nephew would make a great psychologist!"
And when I decided to actually TAKE psychology in college because I took and liked a single class in high school (which I probably only liked because my favorite teacher was teaching the course), she was so happy that somebody would go into "her" business. So when it looked like I was going to change majors she convinced my grandfather not to fund a fifth year. And now she's got me as an aide to her colleagues and is not-so-subtly talking about graduate schools with me.
The thing is... as much as I hate this job I don't know what other choices I have. As I said in the beginning of this journal, for some reason I'm toxic. For whatever reason I cannot get hired at any other job, no matter how hard I try. Everything I've ever tried has failed. I tried to be a bartender and it failed. I tried to be an editor at Amazon and it failed. Fuck, I MOVED TO CALIFORNIA to try and get a job writing for television. You can imagine how well THAT went over.
With my history I honestly feel stuck. I've got a chance to advance in this job, but is it worth it to stay in it? Can I stay in it and keep my sanity? Honestly, I think I already know the answer to that last question because I've felt my sanity slipping for a long time. This job... it honestly feels like it's a constant, unrelenting drain upon my soul. Every day I work I have to watch weeping parents come in and be told that something is wrong with their child. I can't begin to imagine how some people do this.
But I have to stay. Because I need a job. And I can't get another job. I have virtually no chance of getting any other job. I'm out of shape and scrawny so I can't do physical labor. I'm overqualified for most entry level positions. Especially now that I have "better prospects."
So... what does this have to do with writing? What does this have to do with all the stories I've put off?
Well if you can't tell I'm not exactly the world's happiest chappy right now. My family and work situation has gotten me into a very dark place. And you know how in all those depression medication commercials one of the symptoms of depression they mention is "loss of interest?"
Yeah.
I've felt no motivation to write anything for months now. For a while I desperately tried to get back into it, but I couldn't bring myself to write more than a sentence or two at a time.
I'm sorry. I really really am sorry. I so want to finish these stories. Every day I feel them hanging over my head. An obligation unfulfilled. A promise unkept.
But every day I put them off it became a little harder to pick them back up again. And every day I put off explaining to you guys what was up, it became a little easier to just keep hiding away, letting this account gather dust.
But I suppose this is where the good news comes in.
I wrote a thousand words today.
What changed? Well... it's only been in the past few weeks but it looks like my family is finally starting to knit itself back together. I'm still working the absolutely soul sucking job and I can't say I'm actually feeling HAPPY, but my family situation... the situation with my mother, my grandmother, my father, and even my sister is FINALLY starting to improve. Just a little. I don't know if this is only a temporary respite or if things will continue to improve. But finally, FINALLY things improved enough that I felt motivated enough to actually write something somewhat substantial today. For the first time in months.
It wasn't any of my established stories, sadly. It was something... a little more from the heart, I guess you could say. Something I feel a little more emotionally attached to. But it's something.
I hope you all have a good 2017.
Let's see if this goes anywhere.
Well fuck...
I don't even know what to say...
...
...
...
I...I hope you feel better soon.
I'm... I'm at a loss of words.
I wish I could be face to face with you so that I maybe somehow could show you my sympathy and support for you. But for now this cute picture of Fluttershy will have to suffice: s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/7e/34/42/7e344294459d6db610ba6ace2d237fe3.jpg
I'm glad to hear that your family is starting to knit itself back together again. I hope they keep it up.
And on the job front.... I don't know what to real say about it. Just do what you think is right for you.
Given the circumstances, I don't think anyone can blame you for not feeling up to writing pony fiction. The thousand words are definitely an encouraging sign, but I won't ask you to force yourself to write for our amusement while your job is that much of a drain on you. Here's hoping your family really is on the mend.
Also... Well, it's unsolicited advice from someone who has barely an inkling of your situation, but you may want to talk to the people at your workplace other than your aunt about how much of a trial this is on you. I don't know if any of them will lend a sympathetic ear, but if they will, it may help.
Shit, man. I don't really have any advice, but I do have a takeaway: you're a far more well-adjusted person than I am. Most people would have trouble doing what you're doing. Confronting all that pain on a daily basis... It's the natural reaction. Me, though? I think I probably could do your job. Easily. And that scares me.
I can't say I've ever had it as bad as what you're describing, but yeah, I know the feeling. Reality sucks. Hard. 'S why I wholeheartedly embrace escapism.
Hope you feel better sooner rather than later.
Wow, I would have run away and got a job flipping burgers or something.
Praying for you. I hope you find something/someone that can help.
You need to know that there is always hope. I'm praying that God watches over and helps you and your family. As for the job, I think you need to find something better suited for you, then quit the job you have right now once you get something. God bless and I hope things keep improving.
Just happened to come across this and... dang.
All I can really say is I know that feel, that one of having to deal with someone with disabilities, having had a sister with CP. It's ... tough.
Believe it or not I think things have been terrible for all of us last year. It was certainly rocky for me at times, though I try not to show it.
I hope things have (and will) continue to improve.
your alive your family has not fallen apart you can do this keep going please do not give up Most of the important things in the world have been accomplished by people who have kept on trying when there seemed to be no hope at all.”
– Dale Carnegie
Family isn’t always blood. It’s the people in your life who want you in theirs. The ones you accept you for who you are. The ones who would do anything to see you smile, and who love you you no matter what.
-Unknown
Never give up on something that you can’t go a day without thinking about.
— Sir Winston Churchill
Huh. And I thought I hated my job for being something I was stuck with rather than one I was mentally and physically qualified for.
I don't blame anyone for Poofing for a year or more, i just came back after being MIA for Three Years... and i just got distracted.
This is a really damn heavy Story, so.. let me Reply in chunks as i read down the line:
So far your Aunt sounds like a Horrible, Manipulative person, and if you don't WANT the job, and HATE it... just shove it up her ass? Given what i've read So far, she sounds like she probably Started the argument... i know her type in my own family.
As Someone with several mental problems and a crippling social anxiety problem to the point i can't even speak in public(and a "Probably going to kill me down the road" Minor Heart Issue)... All i can say is i feel the same way you do... i could NEVER Deal with a person who had my same faults, and i don't blame you for not wanting too.
... you are already stronger then i, i would of quit then and there.
In this, i feel you. I have been MANY times expected to show sympathy of understanding to other mentally disabled people like myself... BECAUSE of my own issues... but i cannot stand even being in the same room as them, and people expect me to feel shame... they are not my problem and i do not want to get involved, i have my own problems to deal with...
That said, i am basically a Caregiver to Non-disabled people... am i a bad person? I don't think so.
I am worried i am coming off as Insensitive, but it sounds like this job is Emotionally Damaging to you... you really should stop, and don't let your Manipulative Aunt twist your arm... atleast you can add this to your Resume, and confidently tell those who asked about it that your Empathy was too high for the job, and you felt the Pain of everyone your saw... which was emotionally crippling for you.
Y'know, because it is.
"Manipulative Bitch", They think they and ONLY THEY know whats best for the ENTIRE GODDAMN FAMILY, and sometimes, are COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY UNAWARE THAT EVERY SINGLE THING THEY DO IS ACTUALLY FOR THEIR OWN BENEFIT.
And will shout down and run over anyone who Disagree's with them and try to turn the entire family against them, trying to get them Alienated for not kissing there ass.
I know this sort well.
I wonder if she is Acknowledges her manipulations, or legitimately thinks she is helping you by pigeon-holing you into a path you already shown disinterest in, seemingly PANICING and going full Bitch-Mode to keep you on the same path she wants you on?
...Now this may be my Paranioa, but i would put money on your goddamn AUNT being the reason you can't find other work.
Given all the examples, evidence, and such given here, and my own experience in seeing how far this sort will go, i think she has SOME hand in Souring you to employers.
Look, i am unemployed, virtually unable to work(anything involving other people, or anything that'd put stress on my heart), so maybe i am not the Best one to take advice on... but it seems to me this Job is literally ripping the Joy and Light out of your life... out of your soul...
Keep this job for a while, but WHILE working this job, look for a new career, only use this one to keep you going, untill you can find something better... do not just drop it and tread water tho, that'd be a disaster... and for the love of fuck don't let your Aunt manipulate you...
Do you even realize she is PROBABLY just using you as a Jab at your dad? Women like this do not ever truely let arguments die.
Do this job as long as you can, but fully begin looking for a NEW Job while your doing it... maybe try and undo the damage your Aunt did and get another year in Collage? Iunno how none of that works specifically so...
i FEEL the darkness your soul spewed into this, and i don't want it consuming you... and, AS a man who was in the place of your "Patients", i do not blame you for not wanting to put up with all this tragedy.... my whole life i have tried to be as small of a burden on those around me as possible, even when i lose my sense of reality sometimes and go into fits of Denial..
I Think i am just repeating myself.. so I'll end with this:
While i do not think you should take my advice for anything related to Life or Career, i also think this job is not for you, and your Aunt is forcing it on you.
I came here to beg you to continue the “Applebloom, transform and roll out” story.
I have decided to wait patiently, u get there when u get there.
In response to your story: Just keep on moving, and ask God for help, He can give hope to the hopeless.
.....I.. I nearly teared up at this, about the darkness looming over you, I'm sorry you have to suffer such burdens in your life, but stand strong, lad, NEVER lose hope, no matter what horrible incident happens, whether it's getting fired or family issues getting worse or something else, keep hold of your confidence. Things happen, but not just you, all of us, can make a better tomorrow, no matter what scuffles or disasters happen, have faith in our Holy Father, the Allspark, the Force, whatever you believe, ANYTHING that gives you strength! Hold it together, if no one else is, I'M at least here to stand with you. Don't let the darkness bring you down with it's antics, stay strong, have hope by your side, and God is with you, with us all, and I damn well know that something great is about to happen sometime, whether it'd be a long time, or the next day even, the dark cloud over you will soon be running for it's money, and you will stand. We're all here for you lad, and I personally don't give a rat's ass what those people think about your excellent skills, hell, it's absurd for them to tell you off! Nonetheless, keep your spirits up, nothing in the world can break you, you're great at your work and I hope to see you continue. Make the days ahead as good as you can and have a good time. :)