covid

Evening Reflection 001: Better Late than Never

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Daily Summary:
Yesterday sucked. I had a sinus headache of doom. From 2pm-4pm I felt like death would feel if death wanted to die. Luckily that turned around. I kicked the thermostat up to 80 in the apartment. I bundled up in my blankets and prayed to the queue gods that I wouldn’t get a phone call. Eventually, I started feeling warm. I started sweating which helped. The nausea I had been fighting against lessened and I was able to drink and eat things. The headache started going away and my sinuses started draining.

I took two Benadryl, NyQuil, melatonin, and Motrin last night. Even with all of that, it wasn’t until I plugged in my heating pad and warmed up my rice bag that the tension in my neck and face relaxed enough for me to be able to sleep.

But holy fuck was sleep amazing. I feel so much better right now than I did yesterday. So yeah… that’s where I was. Sucking it up and getting through life while being sick. Not the best day but god was the sleep worth it. 

Random Ramblings:
I had no random ramblings yesterday. My brain was too busy hating me to let me think.

Morning Musing: 001

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Gratitude:
I am grateful for space heaters that keep my toes warm. 

#1 Goal:
Survive. I slept like crap due to post-nasal drip. My throat is sore. I’m freezing… and I have a billion hours of work ahead of me. At least I’m at home. There are a lot of advantages to my situation now than three months ago. I feel incredibly tired, but overall I’m fine. Just have to get through the day so I can go back to sleep. 

#1 Concern
I don’t know. A few things I guess. That I have covid is one of them. I don’t feel super awful, but I do feel way more shitty than I did yesterday morning. 

The real concern I guess I one of my dynamics. I don’t know if she reads my blog. Well… I know she has read it. I don’t know if she read my last posts and if she did if that is in some way where the emails I received yesterday stemmed from. 

I don’t feel well and I don’t have it in me right now. I’m concerned this is going to blow up into a huge issue again and right now I would rather avoid it than struggle. 

#1 Achievement:
Getting clocked into work on time. Super proud of myself for not taking eto or vto. Nope. Here I am, getting paid while I feel like shit. I’m even writing. Go me. 

Daily Post 005: Recap and Unpopular Opinions

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Still rocking the whole “new method” thing for posting. Posts in the evening are my quiet reflection time where I can write about the day and any randomness I might have on my mind. Because of that, I can see these being my longer posts. I also intend to end the day with another gratitude section. I think that will help, both starting and ending my day acknowledging something I’m grateful for. 

Anywho… on to the good stuff. 

Daily Summary:
Today has been nice. The weather was warmer and it was sunny. There wasn’t an awful wind, biting through my skin chilling my bones. I’m still waiting for it to be summer. I’m still waiting to be able to enjoy a summer rather than working constantly or being in nursing school. Maybe this year will be the year.

I got a lot of my meal prep done. Not all of it. Still haven’t swept, mopped, or run the dishwasher. I still have time before going to sleep since I work late shifts now. Maybe I’ll still find the gumption to get all of it completed. Even if not, I’m content with all the things I was able to accomplish in that regard. 

Work was nice. I wasn’t as active in the Jabber chat my team has. Instead, I did a lot of computer training things. Each month they send out an email with “recommended” courses to take. A lot of them revolve around personal development. It’s where I got the idea to change the way I post. If it’s in smaller, seemingly more manageable sections, maybe I’ll be better about returning to my habit of writing and reflection. 

There’s actually been a lot of things recently that I have been incorporating back into my life. Reading is one of them. Nelnet has its own library on Overdrive. While most of the books available there are professional development and such, there are other books which have actually been very interesting reads. Atomic Habits by James Clear was one of them. Also, The Seven Necessary Sins for Women and Girls by Mona Eltahawy. While Atomic Habits gave me behavioral changes and actions which I can incorporate into my life, The Seven Necessary Sins was extremely thought-provoking. I enjoyed both books.

I’m almost done listening to Radical Candor by Kim Scott. While this is aimed more at managers or people with direct reports, it can be applied to anything in life where there is human interaction. Even in relationships, there is a need for feedback and clear communication. I have about an hour left in the book. I’m hoping to finish listening to it once I am done writing as I cross stitch.  

I spent a lot of time on the phone with Warren today. We talked pretty extensively about covid along with borderline personality disorder. He was able to give me some insight on issues I have been struggling with and I in turn was able to listen to some of the stress he has been going through. 

It was a connective conversation and I’m glad we were able to talk.

I finally mailed out a birthday card for my nephew. It’s going to be extremely late, but at least I sent one. John signed it as well. We’re both trying to get better about the little things. 

I saw Ox today. He came over after work. We had lunch together. With my schedule being opposite of his now, we don’t get much time. His covid test was negative this morning. I guess that’s something I should mention since I write so infrequently now…

Ornery Ox was not feeling well last Friday. His rapid covid test was negative, but Monday the results for his PCR test came back positive. So… we all quarantined for the recommended 5 days, all of which we were asymptomatic. So… Thursday or so when Papa Ox took a rapid test which came back positive quarantine started all over again. 

I’m still doing fine. Ox is negative and feeling fine. Mama Ox has been fine. And Papa Ox feels like crap, but is doing better. 

And that’s about it for my day. Pretty chill. Got a decent amount of stuff done over the weekend which carried over into today. It’s a slightly frail feeling, but I’m doing better than I was about not being depressed and I’m going to keep trying to foster that in the days to come. 

Random Ramblings:
And here is where I’m going to ramble a bit about covid. 

I don’t want to get the vaccine. This sort of came to a head the other night in one of my dynamics. Several people have expressed how it would make them feel better if I got it, but the other night was the first night I felt pressured to do so. 

I did a search to figure out the difference between “shots” like the flu shot and vaccinations. There isn’t a difference. The flu shot is a type of vaccine. The term shot refers to it being an injection. Vaccine refers to the type of shot; one that facilitates immunization. The length of immunization doesn’t matter. It could provide immunization for a lifetime or be required yearly, as in the case of the flu. Length of immunization does not differentiate if something is a shot or a vaccine. 

So there’s that. I’m ok with that information and it helps clarify things inside my head.

Since I had to quarantine, I looked up CDC guidelines for quarantine and isolation. The only reference I had to go by was from 2020 and I wanted to know if anything had changed from then to now. 

This is where things get dicey for me. 

If you are fully vaccinated, you don’t have to quarantine, even if you test positive for covid. 

What the ever-loving fuck?

Hear me out, or don’t, that’s ok. This is where I get to ramble and there’s no obligation for you to read what I write/think, nor to like it.

But seriously? What the fuck? Just because you are vaccinated doesn’t mean you’re not spreading germs. It means the effects of those germs, ideally, do not affect you as severely. You still have active, living, germs in your system and you are spreading them, regardless of vaccination status.

This whole situation is infuriating. The CDC has gone from being a respected source of guidance pre-Trump, to being so severely undermined by the government no one listened to them peri-Trump, to doing damage control and trying to gain back some semblance of respectable standing post-Trump.

With how society lost its collective fucking shit over a 2-week lockdown, it feels like the CDC is trying to appease the masses.

CDC: It’s ok that you have a highly contagious virus all up in your respiratory tract. You got the vaccine so it’s totally ok for you to go out unmasked and breathe all over everything so the virus continues to circulate. Especially as it continues to mutate. We definitely want to get those variants spread around!

Not actually said by CDC

For fucks sake. It’s not vaccinated versus unvaccinated. It’s humanity versus the fucking virus but no one sees it that way. It’s all finger-pointing and who’s fault is it. Anyone with covid on their hands touching things, anyone with covid in their system breathing around other people, that’s what’s causing it to spread. No the unvaccinated endangering the vaccinated because they’re the “filthy spreaders”. That’s not how the chain of infection works. 

Infectious shit doesn’t care if you’re vaccinated or not. The only thing the vaccine does is potentially mitigate your symptoms. It doesn’t reduce your level of contagiousness to others. 

This is literally the worst fucking group project in my life. >.<;

The people in my life who I have spoken with about this topic over the past few days continue to respect my choice without making me feel bad. They have concern for me, yes. They have also expressed their love and acceptance of me and that while it would hurt for them to lose me, they will not force me to do something I do not wish to do.

Which leaves me… nowhere. I have no answer on how I am supposed to navigate this situation. I feel like getting the vaccine isn’t the core issue within my dynamic. I feel like it’s something deeper than the vaccine and the covid issue is just a surface-level detail that will be replaced/displaced as time goes on. If I become vaccinated then it will shift to how there are breakthrough cases and I still might die. If I have the sniffles or don’t feel well it will be nearing the end of the world. What happens if I have to go to the actual doctor? 

On a deeper level, I feel like this concern stems from a fear of my death, but I am mortal and I have a higher chance of dying in a car crash than I do from pretty much anything else. I can’t death proof my life and I would rather live what life I am able to without feeling like I sacrificed my autonomy and personal beliefs for an issue that will never be fixable, avoidable. 

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to have this conversation. This feeling sucks and I wish there was an easy answer; one where everyone felt ok. 

Gratitude:
I’m grateful for my apartment. I’m grateful for the solitude I have had tonight to write and be with myself. I don’t think I’ve really figured anything out in regards to my covid situation, but I do feel better about reflecting on my day and actually writing. We’ll see where all of this goes. 

Daily Post 010: Holiday Rage

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There is a lot of emotion in this post.
A lot of cursing and raw, unadulterated typing.
I’m not sorry because fuck holidays.

Dearest Universe,

Once again I am here; fucking lost and frustrated internally. I feel like there’s sandpaper on the inside of my skin trying to rub its way out, but it can’t get out because it’s not real, not physical and so I’m left with irritation, borderline rage that I have this sensation with no way to release it.

I’m hoping writing helps. I’m hoping by letting my fingers move over the keyboard, dancing the feelings away that I might find some measure of peace for the restlessness that has been my life for the past month or so; ever building, seldom ceasing. 

I quit my job. I think I wrote about that. I finally chose myself over bleeding out for a company that continuously disregarded my struggles and cries, pleas, for help. 

“Increase your anti-depressant.”

“Fake it until you make it.”

Fuck you guys. I have survived too much in my life to be told “fake it until you make it” when I come to you in tears. When I say I have anxiety and panic attacks when I feel hollow and empty when I have nothing left to give when I feel unsupported when I see my teammates and patients suffering… DO NOT tell me to increase my anti-depressant. 

I didn’t need anti-depressants when my mom died. I shouldn’t be told to take them to cope with work and a lack of life balance. 

Instead of taking their advice, I changed my life, because fuck being miserable. 

And yes, this post is most likely going to have a lot of cursing in it as tears run down my face. Tears of anger and hurt, of lostness and grief, sadness and frustration.

I DIDN’T WANT TO LEAVE MY JOB! I DIDN’T WANT TO LEAVE MY PATIENTS! I DIDN’T WANT TO LEAVE MY TEAMMATES AND “MY” CLINIC!

I DIDN’T WANT TO LEAVE!

That’s what I scream inside of my head, but when given the choice between my life and a fucking paycheck, the paycheck isn’t going to win. There is too much else I am capable of doing. Too many other skills that I already have and can learn; be taught. 

Fuck being miserable, and fuck your advice that I need medication to cope.

What I need is an employer that values me as a human rather than as a cog that’s only useful and valued when it’s performing. As soon as it needs any sort of maintenance then all of a sudden it’s an inconvenience. As if working 12-hour shifts five days in a row is realistically maintainable. As if constantly coping with death is doable without time to mourn or even vaguely process the loss of people you have known for years. 

It is been a little over a month since I left. 

I am still in training with my new job but the reduction in stress is ridiculous. I didn’t realize how dead inside I had been until about a week ago. Each day gets a little better. I have ups and downs still. Especially with it being the holidays, but workwise I do not regret leaving. I’m angry that I had to make that choice. I’m angry that I enabled such an atrocious business model for so long but I do not regret honoring myself. I do not regret being loyal to myself and taking care of my own wellbeing when for so long it was clear that the company wasn’t going to help me live or be ok. 

I have formed close connections with my trainers and fellow classmates. I’m doing well in training. I’m already looking at cross-training for other areas. Work is easy. Learning and retaining information is easy. I took a pretty steep pay cut, but I don’t care about it. A pay cut gave me my life back. A pay cut gave me better benefits. A pay cut wasn’t really a pay cut because had I not tried to quit once before, I still would have been making less than my brother as a new hire. 

Fuck your company. Fuck its disregard for human limitations and lack of empathy or compassion or even trying to understand what it was like working the floor. 

Anyway, I don’t really want to write about work anymore. I like my new job. I “graduated” phase one of training this past Thursday. I cried. It was silly and cheesy and mom would have been proud. She would have been happy for me and it helped me realize that I can be and will be ok in my choice. 

All of the thoughts of “did I make the right choice?” “Am I a failure at life?” “Would mom be proud of me?” All of those thoughts eating way at me could finally rest; stop. The worry and fear could finally stop eating away at me because of this one act of kindness from my trainers, and I wrote them an email explaining why such a silly seemingly trivial thing meant so much to me. 

Teachers, trainers, touch lives in amazing and unknown ways and I wanted them to know how they touched mine so I told them. They both were appreciative of my words and I’m grateful they were. They deserve to know they are valued and seen. 

The holidays have sucked. No surprise there. They haven’t sucked as much as in previous years. Maybe that’s part of the sandpaper feeling. I don’t know. 

I didn’t do anything for my birthday. I worked. No one remembered in my class which I was ok with. I stayed at the apartment and ate a pizza I cooked in the oven. I responded to messages until I couldn’t anymore and then I gave myself permission to stop looking at my phone; to stop poking at a wound that was already bleeding invisible blood. 

I let myself go to sleep. I lay with my pain and grief and in the morning I woke up more ok. I didn’t have to push myself to endure a birthday party. I didn’t have to smile when all I wanted was to break down and cry. I gave myself the gift of space and acceptance and that seemed to help this year. I did birthday stuff later; on “not my birthday” and that made it more ok. 

Maybe that’s how I will handle my birthdays from now on. The day before or after is ok, but my actual birthday is MY day to do what I want rather than people-pleasing or feeling pressured to be something other than what I am. 

Maybe in the future, it will change. Maybe I’ll look forward to parties and celebrations and whatnot in the years to come, but for now, reclaiming that one day as “my” day, helped get rid of all of the pressure and guilt, and shame that I have felt in the past years since mom died, and since I felt better, coped better, I feel like it’s something to keep in mind.

Life is different than what it was, what I thought it would be. I’m allowed to do things differently than I have in the past. I’m allowed to create new traditions and to try new or different things until I find what works; what I’m ok with. 

I was ok with this year for the most part. Ox was ok with it. My brothers and dad were ok with it. I survived and in the morning, after sleeping I was actually better than I thought I would be. I didn’t have depression lingering over me. Life didn’t feel pointless. I didn’t dread the thought of training. I worked out. I ate breakfast. I did all of these things I was fearful of not being able to do because “birthday blues” usually last more than one day. 

But they didn’t this year and I’m grateful for that. I feel like that’s improvement and I would rather focus on the positives I gained rather than having hyper-focus on the singular thought of “but you were still sad”. 

Yeah, I was fucking sad. My mom is dead. I’m always to some degree sad. But I’m especially sad when the one thing I knew I could look forward to, the one day I knew no matter what that she would call, is silent now. I won’t get my one phone call. 

The only thing I want, deeper than anything else in life, I can’t have, so yeah. I’m fucking sad and it’s my party and I will cry even if I don’t want to because that is what I need to do to be ok. 

I want to go out to a field and just scream FUCK right now. FUCK! FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!

My older brother and sister-in-law tested positive for covid. Because, you know, it’s not enough to contend with the loss of the most important person in my life. I have to also deal with the fear of losing the one person who was my rock while mom was in the hospital.

“Do you need anything?”

I can remember that question so clearly. It was the first night at the house. I had been in Vegas for less than 12 hours. The bank had canceled both my debit and credit card because I didn’t list them as “traveling” when I booked my flight. Funny how stupid shit like that slips your mind when your parent is dying. 

I was standing at the kitchen counter. Jason was across from me. 

“Do you need anything?”

“Please don’t die.”

That was most likely the most selfish and unrealistic thing to ask for, but it was the only thing I wanted, needed, in that moment. I could handle mom being in the hospital as long as he was there to help me get through it. As long as he was ok and I didn’t have to worry about losing anyone else I could hold my shit together. 

And then I find out he has covid. 

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK! FUCK YOU UNIVERSE AND EVERYTHING THAT YOU CONSIST OF YOU MOTHER FUCKING SON OF A WHORE!

It’s no different than when I found out I had cancer before Thanksgiving. No different than fucking up a holiday with Life’s bullshit. 

I survived my birthday only to prepare for the onslaught of Christmas a mear four days later and I find out that my brother isn’t ok.

WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?! WHEN WILL IT BE ENOUGH? WHEN WILL YOU STOP TESTING ME, PUSHING ME? WHEN AM I ALLOWED TO NOT BE STRONG? WHEN AM I ALLOWED TO BE TIRED AND SCARED? WHEN AM I ALLOWED TO BE SAFE? AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! THERE AREN’T ENOUGH FUCKS TO FUCKING FUCK THIS FUCKING SITUATION! FUCK!

And I write all of that knowing that my sister-in-law didn’t really hit my radar. It would have sucked, and I would have been sad, but it wouldn’t have been the devastating, earth-shattering, disaster when compared to my brother and I know that most likely makes me a terrible human on some level, but fuck it. It’s the truth. If I had to pick someone to die and someone to live, it would be my brother and I’ll carry that truth with me like all the other scars I wear. 

It’s been a few days since I found out about their diagnosis. They’re both doing ok, which helps ease the fear and uncertainty. It helps something inside me, the four-year-old who cries for mom. I can’t have mom but at least I can have my brother. I know at some point the universe will take him away from me, but for now, it hasn’t and I cling to that with every ounce of my unstable mental and emotional strength because fuck holidays. 

I made it through yesterday. I’ve been coloring a lot more recently. It helps. It gives my eyes and hands something to do with I try to trace thoughts and feelings through my head, trying to make sense of them, trying to hear my inner self and understand what I need. 

It’s how I made it through most of yesterday. Watching gorey anime, cuddling with the cats, and coloring. 

Today we get the kids and will be opening presents and doing all of the actual Christmas stuff. I keep swinging back and forth between being ok and not ok today and I’m so fucking tired of it. 

I’M TRIED! I’M SO FUCKING TIRED YOU SON OF A BITCH AND YET YOU KEEP FUCKING WITH ME! GODDAMIT UNIVERSE! WHY CAN’T YOU LEAVE ME BE! WHY CAN’T I BE NORMAL FOR ONE FUCKING DAY? WHY CAN’T I HAVE A CHRISTMAS WITH THE KIDS AND NOT BE AN EMOTIONAL WRECK? WHY DO I HAVE TO DRAG OX THROUGH THIS, OR JOHN? WHY DO I ALWAYS HAVE TO CRY? WHAT’S SO UNREALISTIC ABOUT BEING ABLE TO BE HAPPY?

Typing out the frustration helps. I know they’re irrational, emotional thoughts. Typing them gets them out of my head. Gives them their time. Makes the sandpaper less abrasive as if screaming through my fingers wears the paper down, grinding away the coarseness. 

There’s been a lot of death that I haven’t written about. My sister-in-laws-dad died. One of my mentors from Full Sail died. Several patients I deeply cared about have died. I haven’t written to them like I normally do to express my grief and now it’s been so long that part of me feels like my words won’t reach them even though I know that’s not true.

There’s so much that I haven’t written though, expressed, just kept inside.

I started a cessation program with work and have cut back significantly on smoking. 

There’s all of this stuff going on in my life and none of it is inherently bad. It’s just… stuff… with emotions, but there are so many of them all at once that internally I’m getting overwhelmed, drowning in the onslaught of waves with refuse to give me reprieve. 

The kids will be here soon. They, too, were exposed to covid. I’m going to have Christmas with them even though I’m unvaccinated. I know people are going to read that and think I’m dumb. Dumb for not distancing myself. Dumb for not getting a vaccine. Dumb for being dumb. 

I’M GOING TO FUCKING DIE AT SOME POINT. LET ME HAVE ONE CHRISTMAS!

Just one Christmas… one where I see lil’ ox open up a palette of makeup for the first time and do something girly with her. One Christmas where I can be fully present emotionally with Ox’s family. Just one where I can appreciate being part of a family that has taken me in as their own daughter, flaws and fucked up emotional issues and all. A family where I have never been judged and always loved. 

I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired of hurting. If I’m going to eventually die then I want to have lived first. 

This isn’t a suicide letter. This isn’t goodbye. I’m done fucking being afraid. I’m done walking on eggshells. I’m done fucking crying. 

Fuck you Universe. I’ve given you more tears than you deserve. I’ve given you more than I ever wanted to. I’ve been stronger and survived more than I ever had a right to. So yes. Fuck you. 

Happy fucking holidays you insensitive, unfeeling bastard. I hate you so much right now. I hate you for everything you have taken from me and everything you keep fucking with. I HATE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH RIGHT NOW AND I DON’T CARE HOW INSIGNIFICANT MY RAGE IS. I DON’T CARE THAT I SOUND LIKE A CHILD. I’M HUMAN! I’M EMOTIONAL AND IRRATIONAL AND ILLOGICAL AND I DON’T FUCKING CARE BECAUSE THIS IS WHERE YOU PUSHED ME TO THIS YEAR. 

So yeah, happy fucking holidays you son of a whore.

Sincerely from a rage-filled dragon who doesn’t give a fuck.