Am I weird? (Don’t answer that, I’ll rephrase)
Is it weird to use cake forks these days? I grew up with fine china, silverware and linen napkins. Some of my favourite presents (and I’ll admit to buying some of these for myself) are silver salad servers, a crystal salad bowl, my Nana’s cake server with mother of pearl handle.
Anyway, back to the question, is it weird to use a cake fork? I love these little forks that make for dainty eating of yummy goodies. My kids always use a cake fork if we have cake at home or at my Mum’s.
I still remember one of the first parties C went to when he started school, he asked for a fork to eat his cake with. The Mum laughed her head off and told him to use his fingers like everyone else. 😐 And this is when I started thinking that I’m a bit of a weirdo. But that’s cool, I’m used to that.
What does it mean?
I’ve always been the type of person not to let others in. Showing a brave face to the world and all that.
Lately, things have been shit. And people have been asking me how things are, and I’ve been telling them just how shit it is. Well, maybe not the full story, but giving a damn good hint. One of my co-workers asked me today if I got depressed while I was away from home (for the last 3 months) and I said “shit yeah, two weeks ago I had a meltdown and cried for a good 4 hours straight when I went home. Home meaning motel room.”
What’s up with me? I usually don’t say things like this. Is this me telling it like it is, or just falling to pieces?
Although, aren’t all nightmares the worst?
I shared this on Facebook, but not on here. I think I’ve said it before, here is where I tell it like it really is. When I’m avoiding how it really is, I don’t post.
I posted a little of what we were going through on Facebook, blocked so that it was only accessible to those who really understand and care.
Anyway, last night I dreamed that L committed suicide. I woke up and knew it was just a dream. It didn’t stop me checking on him as he slept.
And even thought I knew it was just a dream, when I went back to sleep, the nightmares continued…
Friday at work, I had a run in with one of the staff. It all worked out OK, I was as cool calm and collected as I could be, and I think we discussed the matter maturely and I felt good about it after our discussion.
Except, I have been dwelling on work matters all weekend. Friday night, about an hour after I got home I started really feeling like shit. Self doubt and loathing. I remembered my doctor telling me that on the “bad hair days” (god love him, I do think that’s a funny way of putting it) that I could take a certain tablet. Do you think I could frigging remember what tablet that was? All I can remember is that it was something that my son had been prescribed that he no longer takes, so I thought, well at least I don’t have to spend money getting a prescription filled.
Friday night I’m sitting on the lounge with my laptop, surrounded my tablets trying to figure out which one it was. I thought it was small, round and white. I’ve got square pink tablets, round pink tablets, small round white tablets that don’t actually look like what I remembered. So I start googling. Meh… I decide to take a Zyprexa, as my husband looks on worried. I tell him to remember which one I took in case I have to go to hospital. Yeah, I’m sure that put his mind at ease. I wait and wait and wait for the fuzzy sleepy feeling to hit and it feels like forever until it finally does. In the meantime I’m tempted to pop a different pill just to stop these feelings, but hey I’m not *that* stupid.
Saturday night, still feel like shit. Can’t sleep. Thinking about stupid bitches at work who don’t come to work to work, they come to work to cause trouble. I have to be the better person, but I want to tell them that they suck. I want to yell and scream at them. I take a Melatonin capsule this time, and around 3am I finally fall asleep.
Sunday, it’s 2.20pm, I’m sitting on the lounge in my pyjamas, crying. Why can’t I be happy? Why is this feeling enveloping me? I’m so desperate that I actually ring my doctor. Amazingly, he is working today. Not amazingly, he is booked out. I leave a message for him with the receptionist. For some reason I try to put on a bouyant, upbeat voice. I almost sing into the phone “ummm, I’m having a really bad day, and Dr C told me when I feel like this I can take a particular tablet, but I can’t remember what tablet it was.”
So now I wait for the return phone call, which I know will probably come sometime after 5pm. But I can’t leave the house in case he calls before then, and I’d been thinking that maybe I should force myself to go out. Perhaps some sunshine and fresh air might change my perspective.
I hate feeling like this.
L won’t go back to the Psychiatrist. I can’t really blame him, the guy doesn’t seem to help much and has all the personality of a lump of coal.
What’s a Psychiatrist supposed to do anyway? Do they just dish out the drugs and monitor to make sure it’s working?
Anyway, L says that he’d rather have regular appointments with the GP. At least he can talk to him and L feels comfortable with him. I’ve asked L to ring and make the appointment with the GP, I really don’t get along with the receptionists, they tell me off when Luke misses his appointments, which really has nothing to do with me. I can’t get him to eat a decent meal, let alone make sure he goes to a doctor’s appointment when I’m working 2.5 hours away.
I did ring the Psychologist though and made an appointment with him. It’s a month away though, so let’s hope that things don’t continue going downhill while we wait.
When I first started this blog, I searched for blogs written by other parents.
I found some good blogs written by parents of young children with bipolar disorder but couldn’t seem to find anyone with a teen / young adult.
It might seem odd, but I just want to read about it from someone else’s perspective. Surely there’s someone else out there who feels just as bloody helpless as I do? Someone else who doesn’t know what to say when your child tells you that he doesn’t want to live let alone get out of bed some days. Someone else whose heart is breaking.
Maybe someone who has been there done that, and doesn’t necessarily have the answers, but has some pointers?
That issue my eldest son was having with a government department?
I tried the usual avenues to have the problem resolved, was treated quite atrociously by the Call Centre operator, attended an office (better treatment) but still found that no one was willing to listen to my requests for the matter to be looked into (it was a fairly obvious administrative error – at least, I thought so, it was obvious to me).
I wrote a letter to Chief Executive. I kept all emotion and complaints about staff out of it, just the facts m’am. I ended the letter stating that I had sought legal advice, and that if a positive response was not received within 7 days that we would pursue the matter through the courts, and upon successful appeal we would also claim costs against the department. Then I had my Mum fax the letter through to the Chief Executive from her home fax, because I didn’t want the work header to appear on it (showing the government department and section that I work for).
Just over 24 hours later, I received an apologetic phone call, advising me that the error had been corrected. Funny that.
The unusual part of this is that the letter did not have my phone number on it. The Manager who dealt with the complaint recognised my name as an employee of the same government department, and rang me on my work number. Yes, that’s right, the department that was about to screw over my 18 year old son is the one that I work for!
The Manager asked me why I didn’t just ring him about that matter, rather than complain to the CE. I said that I was acting as a member of the public, I tried the avenues that members of the public have and I’d received an unsatisfactory response. The Contact Centre operator wouldn’t put me through to the section that made the error, her team leader refused to speak to me, the branch I attended rang his section and was told in no uncertain terms that there was no error, so as a member of the public I felt that the only option available was to write a complaint to the CE. He said “didn’t you tell them who you were?” – uh, no, I didn’t. I did not want there to be any potential conflict of interest, did not want anyone to feel that I was using my position to gain advantage for a family member. Weird, huh? Are my ethics… too ethical? Am I over the top about this sort of stuff, keeping in mind my recent report of an ethical issue to my *cough* manager?
Anyway, now I get to follow up on the first letter with my complaint about that horrible Call Centre operator. 😀 I won’t be totally horrible though, I will compliment the service of the Manager who resolved the complaint in an incredibly timely manner (once he was aware of it).
I did not like being a customer of the Department I work for. Imagine if L didn’t have the support structure that he has (ok, I mean me) to deal with shit like this. There must be hundreds (thousands?) of people in the same position who just end up copping it sweet after head-butting the brick wall of bureaucracy.
And I’ll finish with a mention of L’s current obsession – finding the cheapest petrol. He actually drives around comparing petrol prices and then goes back to where it was cheapest. Sometimes his logic just goes right out the window.