The Hell Years

Now and then I refer to The Hell Years.

The Hell Years began with a really bad freak accident about four years ago, followed by our family's ongoing physical and emotional recovery, and the devastating financial aftermath from being off work and having all the bills pile up.

We had very little emotional support, I lost all my friends who weren't able to fathom what we were going through, and I feel like I struggled alone against debilitating depression to get out of bed each day so I could care for my family and fight to prevent becoming homeless when we couldn't pay the rent.

It was really awful - the shock of what happened, the shock of seemingly normal things going very wrong, the shock of being told "We don't know if our team of surgeons can save them," and the shock of seeing more of the insides of someone's body than I ever wanted to see... and exactly one year after the accident, history repeated itself almost event by event. It was bad.

(Although one good thing about the repeat trauma is we knew what to expect. Didn't make it any easier, but we were able to call 911 sooner when things started going wrong again.)

I don't want to go into specifics in case D researches anything related to it and stumbles across this blog. Just compare it to what people in the middle ages experienced when disease or warring tribes wiped out their small village. Throw in few cases of Seppuku, and that'll be comparable to what we went through.

The Jobs Report

The Jobs Report was on the news recently. Apparently unemployment is down, job creation is up, the stock market is up, everybody happy happy happy.

The employment happy happy joy joy hasn't trickled its way down to me yet.

Here's a summary of the last month:

1. ABCD
I had been working for Company A, doing contract work for Company B, who leases office space in Company C's building. D never asked about any of it and assumed I worked for Company C.

The job ended abruptly. I had been the assistant for an exec at Company B. She got in trouble for hiring me (she didn't follow company protocols and hire through the proper channels.) To save her own ass, she got rid of me by blaming me for an error she made. Of course I was upset. After an investigation, my employer, Company A, reassured me I did nothing wrong, Company B was happy with my work, and in the discussion I learned that Boss B has done this to other assistants before me. How lovely. (In retrospect, I see that B stands for Bitch.)

In the end karma prevailed. Boss B got in trouble for hiring me, got in trouble for throwing me under the bus, and is no longer allowed to have an assistant.

Let me edit that last point. Karma prevailed for Boss B.
Did karma prevail for me?
I don't know.
I certainly don't see any change on my end.

2. The Federal Job
Had a great interview, was told a week later that they had chosen someone else for the job.
Being optimistic, I stopped job hunting and put all my eggs in the federal job basket. Now I have to start the job hunt all over agaon.

3. Temping
Finished a 3 week part-time temp job at minimal pay yesterday, and now nothing is on the horizon.

Can we say "I am depressed?" Let's all say it again, only louder.

I AM DEPRESSED.

I ate a package of Oreos (generic because they're cheaper) and am starting on a bag of M&Ms. Somebody please stop me.

Has D said anything about any of this? He knows nothing about the federal job. has no idea why I'm not going to company C's office any more, and knows I had been temping at one location only because he dropped me off at work one afternoon. Otherwise he has not asked or commented on any of this.

This is why I'm so damn depressed. It would be easier if someone actually gave a shit about me. A hug would be nice, too, but no. Empathy is a luxury I am just not going to have while I struggle through this.


Oh, except when I came home late one evening after a job fair down in the big city. It was past my usual bedtime and I wanted to get to bed straight away. D stopped me as I hurried into the house. "You need to help me write this letter," he demanded.
What? Why? To whom?
Apparently he is now job hunting, too, and wanted me to help him with his resume and cover letters. And they had to be done at midnight on a Wednesday. No particular job posting, he just wanted to have it ready. In case. And I had to stay up late to help him with it, instead of going to bed so I could get to work the next morning.
"Can we please work on this tomorrow?" I asked. "I'm tired and need to get to bed."
"No. I have to do it now because I'm sending it off in the morning."
"To who? What job?"
"Well I don't know! I'll find someone."
So I stayed up an extra hour, helping him with his resume and cover letter (generally both should be written/modified specifically for each job posting you apply to, not generically done, but he insisted and I'm still trying to play nice so he'll let me sleep after I go to bed.)

The next day he slept in, then spent all day watching tv.
I see where his priorities are, and it smacks of sabotage.

This umbrella is perfect.
So I can walk in the rain in front of D.

I am so so so ready to move on, but feel I can't until I get a job. I don't know any other way around it. I have to get a job before I can do anything else.
Once I get a job, I can sign a lease on an apartment (found our apartment - in my budget and in the right location for me and the kids to easily get around town.) Once I move, then I can work on rebuilding a social life. I have already found the community sports league I want to join, another branch of a fraternal organization I've been wanting to join, and am ready to sign up for yoga and the local dragonboat team. I'm so ready to get out there and have fun and make friends again. (Can't start that before the job - no money.)  I'm so fuckin' lonely.

I'm ready. Just... when am I going to get that job I so desperately need?

I just wanted a hug.

This cartoon makes me cry.

image from http://www.robot-hugs.com/nest/

It was this situation that made me realize that something's wrong with D, and that I will never be able to fix it. I realized I wasn't happy and hadn't been happy for years and years and years.

At my home, I was feeling really low and asked him if I could have a hug, but he stood there and laughed at me.

So I started crying and asked again for a hug.
"Nope."

I opened my arms and said "Please?"

He backed away.

I took a step forward.

He backed away some more.

By now I was bawling my eyes out, and with tears streaming down my face, he moved away from me every time I tried to approach him for a hug. When I realized I was literally chasing him through the house in a cruel game of keep away, I stopped.

"Forget it," I spat out as I walked away.

"Aww, come on, I'm kidding! Come here, I'll hug you."

"No."

"Seriously, I'll give you a hug if you really want one that bad."

"Fuck you."

This one hug that I never got marked the beginning of the end.

I just wanted a hug.

Alone in my cave

When I'm stressed out (which is most of the time these days,) I tend to crawl into my little cave and disappear. People accuse me of dropping off the face of the earth. My family complains that I never answer the phone.

Years ago, I had lots of friends. Now, I only have a few left.

I've never been able to figure out why I do this now. I've been in my cave for about 7 years, but visited it now and then for the previous I don't know how many years.
Anyway, I'm a cave dweller.
I am hermit girl, hear me sigh.

What caused me to change from outgoing and popular to hermit girl? I hate being hermit girl, but can't even force myself to fake my old outgoing self any more.

Then I saw this picture at The Lost Self and it all makes sense. 
I thought it was just me. It's not. It's a growing depression from years and years of covert, passive abuse.

At least that means that when I leave the abuse, I'll finally start to heal.
I might even start to come out of my cave.

Do I have PTSD?

I was sent to a psychiatrist to be tested for PTSD in the middle of The Hell Years*.
He said I didn't have it.

Today, I disagree with his diagnosis.

I don't think he asked questions in a manner I understood, because in all my research about personality disorders and the abuse surrounding them, I'm starting to think I do have PTSD. I'm almost positive I had it back then.

There is an online PTSD test on several big psych websites, but after answering the 22 questions it said "Print out this list and take it to your doctor to discuss your answers." Well phooey. I'm out of printer ink, I don't have medical insurance right now (Obamacare-Schmobamacare) and I have exactly $12.42 to my name until my first payday two weeks from now, so taking that test was a glorious waste of time.

Tonight, I found the same test online with scoring at the bottom. Thank God!
Here's a link to the test I found at Heal My PTSD.
"If you have 10+ "yes" answers, you display many symptoms of PTSD," the results say.
I answered 18 out of 22 with a yes.

I think the big difference between the PsyD and the online test is my interpretation of the questions.

First of all, in the doctor's office, I was answering everything based on the medical horrors I had witnessed and managed during The Hell Years. It was a horrible time in all of our lives, but:

Did I witness or experience a traumatic event?
No. First of all, Hell wasn't an event. It was a situation that should have been routine but quickly went south, then turned into an ongoing life-threatening situation that dragged on for months. A year later we went through it all over again.
Second of all, we only discussed Hell. I wasn't aware that I'd been abused for years before Hell happened, so abuse didn't even enter the discussion. It was the farthest thing from my mind.

Do I have flashbacks of the event?
At the time I was formally tested, I think I was still in shock. My family was knee deep in the horror show and hadn't yet come up for air. I wasn't even to the point of having flashbacks yet.

(By the way, the P in PTSD means Post. It's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, not UTYEBTSD: Up To Your Eye Balls in Trauma Stress Disorder. And also not NLATEOTTTSD: No Light At The End Of The Tunnel Traumatic Stress Disorder. Let's make sure we're clear on that.)

I also knew absolutely nothing about PTSD, so when he asked about flashbacks, I imagined Vietnam Vets having flashbacks (as demonstrated via Hollywood - my only exposure to flashbacks) and no. I didn't wake up in the middle of the night in a panic, trying to hide from or hunt the bad guys.

So I told him, "No. I don't have flashbacks."

If only he had explained what that actually meant. Now days, when I think of the abuse I endured over the past 20 years, and then the emotional isolation I felt during Hell when I had no friends to help me through it, yeah. They're not technically visual flashbacks, but the emotional pain and anguish wells up and it takes me a good hour to stop crying from thinking about it. I think I'd categorize that as a flashback. The pain is still very raw and I'm super sensitive when I think about it.

Do you have intense physical and/or emotional distress when something reminds you of the traumatic event?
Yesindeed. See above. Enough said.
Do I avoid talking about it, thinking about it, engaging in any reminders about it?
Can we change the subject?
Sometimes I wonder if that's one reason I need to get away from D. Because he reminds me of the abuse. Or if it's just because of the abuse. Maybe both, depending on how he's treating me at the time.
I don't like thinking about Hell or how horribly alone I felt during that time. I can't deal with my feelings when I do. It's too much.
Can I have a hug now?

Do you have memory gaps?
Do you have difficulty concentrating?
Are you kidding?? I lost part of my language skills during Hell. Common vocabulary words were gone. I couldn't carry on a normal conversation because too many words were missing.
"Please let the dog out," ended up sounding like, "Hey. The dog. He... wants. Uh, Dog needs... Um... potty." 

I felt like I had brain damage. I told my doctors that I felt like I had brain damage. They nodded and made notes in their laptops but didn't do anything to help, except to change my antidepressant meds. I still struggle to recall and speak certain words at times. Sometimes my conversation trails off and converts to gestures because I can't pull up the next word from the depths of my brain, but it's a lot better now than it was. Crossword puzzles helped me to regain a lot of my words.

Now that I know more about abuse and isolation and PTSD, I believe I actually did suffer some brain damage during that time.

New item for my to do list after I move out: talk to a doctor or counselor about PTSD.

-----------------------------------------------

*The Hell Years refers to the injuries from the accident (a freak accident - nobody's fault), the recovery, and the aftermath. 

It was really awful - the shock of what happened, the shock of seemingly normal things going very wrong, the shock of being told "We don't know if our team of surgeons can save them," and the shock of seeing more of the insides of someone's body than I ever wanted to see... and exactly one year after the accident, history repeated itself almost event by event. It was bad.

(Although one good thing about the repeat trauma is we knew what to expect. Didn't make it any easier, but we were able to call 911 sooner when things started going wrong again.)

I don't want to go into specifics in case D researches anything related to it and stumbles across this blog. Just compare it to what people in the middle ages experienced when disease or warring tribes wiped out their small village. Throw in few cases of Seppuku, and that'll be comparable to what we went through.

Being stuck is keeping me stuck

Why is it so darn hard for me to get up off my ass and do something? Anything?
Every day is wasted with nonsense and I don't get any packing done, I don't sort through boxes of crap, I DON'T SEND OUT JOB APPLICATIONS...

WTF is wrong with me??

I mean seriously, what the fuck is wrong with me??

By not doing anything, I'm just going to be stuck here longer. 

Last night I decided to take a one-week vacation from Facebook. I'm not gaining anything from that that I can't live without. When the week is up, I'll decide if I want to take a second week off. It could be a really good thing.

I'm going to bed early (on time) tonight, waking up at 6am tomorrow, and hopping in the shower and getting dressed right away. If that's all I do for the day, it'll be more than I've done all week. Plus, I'm always more productive in the early morning, and more productive when I'm dressed instead of pajamafied.

I'm sick of being stuck.
But like the quote above says, maybe I'm stuck because I think I'm stuck. 
Ok. shutting off the computer for the rest of the day. Maybe tomorrow, too.

Emotional Abuse & Extramarital Affairs

I'm lucky.

I'm in a common (unfortunately) situation where I'm the victim of emotional abuse.

I'm in the more and more common situation where I'm having an extramarital affair (or two, or five.)

I'm in a very uncommon situation (I would guess) where I'm involved in both abuse and affairs at the same time.

My affairs keep me sane. My relationships help me to feel grounded and real.
The intimate contact helps me to fill the void from D's emotional abandonment of me.

I'm lucky because part of D's abuse is ignoring me for days on end, spending all of his time in the garage. I've gone days without seeing him. On days when I decide to take a drive out of the city to go to the lake or wander aimlessly around the mall for hours, or take my computer to a coffeehouse until well after midnight, he doesn't ask where I've been. No texts, no calls, nothing.

I go for weeks without another human physically touching me. Not even a clerk touching my hand as she gives me my change and receipt. Not even as strangers brushing shoulders as we pass on the sidewalk. It hurts my heart to go for so long without any contact.

I try to see the bright side to being ignored at this level: I have a LOT of free time at home. Sometimes I follow my usual patterns of going to the lake, mall, or coffeehouse, but I meet up with one of my beaus for some quality social time instead.

Like I said, I'm lucky.

Here comes the sun again

Well.
I'm glad that blue crap is going away. I feel much better today.

I realized I had stopped taking my antidepressants and was letting my current situation with job and home life get to me.

As soon as I expressed quiet gratitude for a few basics (health, food, sunshine) the phone rang. Would I be available for an interview this coming Wednesday? The job opening that excited me has turned into an interview.

Funny how that works.

Blue

I've been on my frantic, desperate job hunt for a month now.

No job, no income, nothing. Because of my particular situation, I won't be eligible for unemployment for another month. Have applied for assistance, but that's a long process. The fridge is empty, we're on our last bale of toilet paper, and I'm getting scared.

I've had chest pains for several nights in a row, but I know they're just from anxiety. I have a knot in my gut that just won't go away. It makes me nauseous. No, I'm not going to the ER. It's not the lack of health insurance, it's just that I don't want to sit for 4 hours in a waiting room to be told "You're fine. It's stress. Go home and have a cup of tea." Fuck you.

Besides, I don't want to have to interact with D for that long. He annoys the crap out of me.

Today I had a meltdown and the kid comforted me. I try to hide all of my stress from her, but she's not an idiot. I can only protect her form so much of what's going on. I mean, she knows we're broker then broke, but I can't unload my mental crap on to her. She's a kid.

After numbing out for a while with computer games, I decided I'd figure out the one next step to get past this.

I need to focus.
Focus on what I need to do.

Sounds redundant, focusing on focusing, but for example, if I'm filling out another application, I need to focus fully on what I'm doing. Not letting all my financial woes and personal drama whirl over my head like a tornado of doom while I'm trying to fill in a form telling someone how awesome I am and why they should hire me.

That's backwards.

When I focus on something, really focus, I usually tune out the rest of the world and work hard at the task at hand. That's what I need to do: focus.

The other thing I need to do, when I have nothing specific to focus on, is to stop the negative little voice in the back of my head from saying shit like "We're so broke. I just need to get out of here. I just want a job. I hate this house. This is taking too long." and start working on a LOA approach* again.
*LOA = Law Of Attraction

The LOA worked so well when I got the last temp job, which was an accident (and a mistake, but that's another story), and it worked with so many other things. I even used the LOA to meet P, who has been an absolute godsend.

So that's my job from now on:
Focus
LOA

Here are the LOA links I found tonight that are helping to un-blue me:

• The Secret - stories about jobs
• Powerful Intentions
• How to work with the Law of Attraction to find a job regardless of condition
• How to overcome depression with the Law of Attraction
• Get Out of a Slump

The rain doesn't help

Today is another all day pajama day.

photo credit PJ Johnson

Kept hoping for a call or email today, telling me that they want to interview me for the job I was shortlisted for. It's after 4:30pm and nothing yet.

Microsoft called me about 4 times today. Each caller either has a terrible quality microphone or they are all taught to mumble. They are so hard to understand over the phone. The most they can do to fix my MS Office subscription problem is offer me a 30 day trial after the subscription ends, or I can pay for a renewal. I told him they need to look into their packaging design for the ones sold at B&M stores, since my box did not clearly indicate that it was a subscription to the software, and not something that I could purchase and use for years and years. There's no point complaining to Office Depot, where I bought the damn thing. When I said "I need MS Word, Excel, and I want Access," they had to pull two salespeople over to help me find it. Then I said, "I need to install this on three separate computers." A 4th and 5th salesperson had to come over to try to answer my question.

How hard is it supposed to be to buy frickin' software?!

Then after a good half hour of group discussion with the 5 salespeople, they handed me a box with Office 2013 in it. I bought it. I installed and used it. I liked it.

It will self destruct in April.

I am re-learning Office 2007, and I am pissed that I spent money on something that I can't keep using.

Breathe...
Breathe again...

No no, you're not breathing deeply enough. Breeeeeeaaaathe.

Wanna go for a walk? 
No, it's raining, and I"m already cold.
Maybe a cup of coffee, a blanket, and something on tv?
No, I'll feel like an unemployed slob. I should do something about finding work.
You're going to come across as a depressing grump if you try to write anything intelligent. It's after 4:30. If you want to feel productive at this point, clean the house. Or for God's sake, shower and get dressed.
I could shower and put on clean jammies.
Fine. But then you need to write a page of stuff in your gratitude journal. You're losing perspective.
Aye aye Cap'n.
Smartass.