Douchebag

(Trigger Warning – allll the suicided)

Several months ago I stepped down from my position and moved departments. Took a pay cut.

The department I was in was so toxic. We are talkin’ daily verbal and professional assault. It was fuckin’ terrible. It was really hard to let go of my people, the team I built from the ground up. It was hard to give up and walk away. I spent three years being a buffer for these people. Helping them navigate a pandemic. Keeping them out of harms way and taking the punches. I just couldn’t do it anymore. The burnout is real.

I moved to the ICU in a lesser position. It’s been an experience, for sure. I have been in a supervisor role for so long that being in a role where I have no say in anything was refreshing and fucking weird. The people I work for and with are fantastic. I’d follow them to hell and back, so having no control is fine with me. They are so kind. I’m grateful for the break.

I worked really closely with ICU for years so the move wasn’t really a big change other than the work environment improved 100%. They asked for me, and I’m so glad they did. Because, I don’t know that I would have moved on my own. I loved the team I built and feared what would happen when I left (turns out everything I feared unfolded about a week after I transferred. Ugh).

May is their birthday week. It’s also our anniversary month. While at work, one of the ICU nurses that I work closely with asked me a question that I answered truthfully. It led to me giving a quick synopsis of their suicide and the aftermath. The nurse, Jon, spun around and looked me in the eyes and said: “Wow, what a douchebag”. When I say I laughed, oh my stars. That’s the first time I’ve had that reaction from someone. I laughed and replied “Yeah, a little”. Jon started to apologize. I was still laughing. Truthfully, it was a welcome response. Had it been 5 years ago this would have put me in mental choke hold. I explained that, and that he had no reason to be sorry. I then explained that for the most part, they didn’t have a choice in their thoughts or actions; I told Jon the diagnosis. I will never forget his response. Never. Because it was the first time anyone had ever completely understood the situation. He locked eyes with me and said “So, they blamed you then. They left a note blaming you didn’t they?”. The world spun. It fuckin’ spun for the first time in a while. I’d never told anyone. Jon went on to say something to the effect of (don’t quote me here my brain was coming to a full stop at this point): “people with that diagnosis, their chemicals are all messed up and they blame the spouse.” I’d never had anyone understand the situation, or connect the dots so completely like that. I never had anyone point this out. I don’t think I knew this was common.

He had no idea what he did for my soul that day. She did leave a note. She did blame me. I blamed me. I blame me even though I know logically it wasn’t in my hands.

It’s true that ICU is a different animal. Apparently it’s the one I didn’t even know I needed.

XOXOX

Catriona

Is it really the Holidays?

Cuzz it doesn’t feel like it. Maybe it’s because I didn’t get a tree this year. Maybe it’s because I’m burnt out. Maybe it’s both.

My Christmas tree is one of, maybe, three things I look forward to all year. It’s a like sign I made it another year. Ha, maybe that’s why I didn’t end up getting one this year, because I’ve been crashing and burning my way thru this year. So, it’s fitting that I didn’t get the thing I look forward to most.

Burn out is real.

I was going to do Christmas cards.

I was going to make chocolate covered oreos and hot coco bombs for my team and family.

I was going to make Christmas cookies for the first time since the pandemic.

I pulled everything out to do it. Then looked around and realized I don’t feel very merry and neither does my house. I climbed back in bed and waited for the day to be over so I could go to work. Night shift, wooooo.

I keep trying to be festive but between roadblocks and burnout, I think I’m done. I’ll try again next year. Lol.

Catriona

I lost grip of my PTSD.

I had that bitch head locked for about 3 years. I pinned her to a wall and was in control for a while.

You know what happens when you shove something intelligent in a box? It evolves to release it self. Don’t ever underestimate how intelligent PTSD is.

I lost grip of her several months back. Ok, over 6 months back.

I knew it was happening; My plants were dying. My house wasn’t dirty, but it wasn’t clean. I was working harder and sleeping less. I was taking on more and juggling it all to fill the spaces PTSD wanted to occupy. I was forcing interaction. But my PLANTS. lol. I usually live in a forest. They are all just about dead.

Now I’m strategically avoiding all unnecessary interaction without a thought. I realized today just how bad it was.

PTSD, or Pansy, for those who have been with me for a while has evolved. While she is not as aggressively loud and obnoxious in random intervals as she used to be, she is constant now, albeit a dull roar. I’m actually not even sure which is worse.

I worked 16 day straight just to shut her the fuck up. And now because I’m a good lead, I gave away a day of my overtime (today) for one of my dispatchers who needed it. So, first day off in 16 days and I’m sitting here alone in my house staring at my responsibilities. They are staring back.

I just want to build a cabin in the middle of the woods and lose my mind in peace. However, I can’t keep track of my family that way so, here we have the problem. lol. I’m fully aware that the Universe built my kid to be the anchor that keeps me in check. Backfired though. Because, the thing that would be released should my kid be removed from this world would be unimaginable.

I’m supposed to be flying into town in the beginning of September to help my brother with our Mom and I don’t even know how to fake being put together at the moment. I am just hoping they will both be too occupied with the fact that Mom is actually dying from Cancer now to notice my undoing. I don’t even have my ticket yet, that’s how much of a grip I have. Well, to be fair it was so fucking expensive that I almost fell out of my chair when I went to book it. I was hoping the closer I get it would go down in price. I was also hoping the sky would fall and I wouldn’t be able to go – how fuck up is that? Yeah. I know.

The check engine light was late and I knew it.

Catriona

XOXOX

I’m guilty

…….I watch a lot of tiktok. …….eeekkkk I know. I know. LOL

But I do. I’m a people watcher, we know this. Tiktok is useful to a point for people watching. And ART. oh the Art. These are two of my favorite things: Art and people watching. I mean really people are Art. Really fucked up Art for the most part. But. Art.

Really what interests me are people’s stories, so when I can’t sleep or when my PTSD rears it’s really fucked up head I run away to other people’s thoughts. Also – Did you know Lindsey Stirling does lives and plays on request on Tiktok? She’s playing live right now and I cannot get enough.

On tiktok there are so many people finding out through 23andme that the parents they grew up with aren’t their biological parents. Some of these stories are heartbreaking. Most of these stories are heartbreaking. You know, stories of people finding out they were switched at birth, finding out their dad wasn’t their dad or their mom wasn’t their mom, and how horribly awful it made everyone involved feel. Annnnnnnd all I can think is: Damnit, I took that damn test so that it would show me that I was switched at birth and my birth parents weren’t my birth parents, why couldn’t this happen to me. lol. I know that’s nuts, but my parents spent the time they had with me showing me, for the most part, that they didn’t want me. I am pretty sure I was the black sheep as a baby. lol.

23andme didn’t show I had been switched at birth, by the way. lol. I mean, really, it didn’t show me anything. Apparently both sides of my biological family don’t use 23andme Hahaha.

I think even if my biological parents turned out to be cereal killers I would have been ok with that. My mom wanted a baby, I was just the wrong baby. My dad wanted a son, but never the responsibility. Turns out I’m not a boy. Maybe this is where I grew the black wool?

I guess I need to do laundry and clean up the bubble mess I definitely didn’t make in the kitchen by using the wrong automatic dishwasher detergent. bahahah

xoxoxo

Catriona

Oh I did it now

I reported to the Hospital around the same time Covid did. Since then, I have been the department Trainer as well as the shift manager. I work overnight, the only one in management is me. Shit goes sideways – it’s me that catches it before it hits the fan. I really enjoy my job, for the most part. I am sent in for tough patients (read: dementia, suicides, and just plain assholes). I respond to codes. I work with ICU and Trauma all night. My staff is pretty amazing and the people I work with are a different breed. Pretty proud to know them. Especially my House Sup (Read: God. She runs the hospital). I only hope to be like her when I grow up.

This week, I wrote my resignation. My intention was to hand it in and give notice in about a week. See, I love my job, but two members of upper management in my department are complete shit, homophobic garbage humans. Since I cannot be pressured and manipulated, and because I have morals I’m not of much use to them. The Hospital loves me and I nail my job every day, but because I will not intimidated and don’t tolerate abuse these two individuals and I have uh, we will say – have butted heads (read: I nuked and they got smacked by their management for their treatment of me which only expanded the target on my back). Up until now they didn’t effect me much. That all changed the min my Supervisor told me he was stepping down and one of the other Supervisors (described above) is who I’s be reporting to, permanently. I laughed in response. Nope. That’s not going to happen. I don’t need this job, and def don’t need to deal with a nefarious wanker with a god complex. My exact words to my Supervisor were: “I will shit in my hands and clap while singing the Song That Never Ends, naked in the Atrium before THAT happens.”

With that being said, I reported to the ICU last night as part of a responding team, like I do every night. The Charge Nurse (Head of the floor) said something to the effect of “I don’t know why you don’t just come work for the ICU” (I get this a lot for several different units, I just have never moved on it). I just laughed and said “You aren’t hiring, I looked” and kept working thinking nothing of it. She rounded on me, told me she wanted me in the ICU and marched my ass to her Director’s office. I didn’t even have a choice at that point. LOL. Thank the stars she wasn’t there. I was a sweaty gross mess. I had just responded to a stroke and 4 ICU patients, I was in no shape to be meeting any Director. Charge told me she would call me as soon as she returned. I thanked her and headed back towards my office still pretty stunned at what just happened.

On my way back to my office I stopped by House Supervisor. I consider her a friend and wanted her opinion. I asked her what she thought. The turn over rate in the ICU is high and I wanted to know if it was because of burn out, or because they treat their staff like crap. She told me what I figured she’d say. Our convo was cut short by a phone call so I made my way back to my office. About 20 mins later House Sup called me to tell me I had a meeting with the Director the next day (tonight). LOL. I swear I have no control of this thing. Hahaha. So, I’ve done it now, and I didn’t even mean to.

I have no idea what is happening. hahah.

Catriona

XOXOX

All the metal

I’m sitting in the back of my car as my kid drives us the 2 hours home from getting (the kid) braces.

I had no idea the new braces are all metal. No little rubber bands. Just metal. No wonder it’s costing me 5k. I gladly signed those papers. $200 a month is worth it to me. My bio mom didn’t do that for me and I have delt with it my whole life. I understand now that that I’m older that it’s not covered unless medically necessary, but my teeth were pretty messed up and she didn’t bother. We were pretty poor, but even if we had the money (and maybe we did?) I’m almost positive she wouldn’t have gotten me braces. So yeah, I’d have paid double, I’m sure.

This kid is also turning 18 soon. It’s mind blowing to me. Time is sneaky, I swear.

I’m so tired. I’ve been up all day and have to work all night. Mondays are a crazy day for Trauma – – don’t ask me why. It’s going to be interesting.

Catriona

XOXOXOX

Fuck Laundry!

Uh. wait. No. Not like that. I’ll just have to wash it again.

I have no issues washing cloths. But folding it and putting it way is just fucking stupid.

Ugh. Maybe I will hire a maid, but just for the laundry.

Ugh. My power just went out. My battery back up will only last for another 10 mins. Damn storm.

HA!! WAIT. I DON’T HAVE TO DO LAUNDRY NOW. Fuck yeah.

Catriona

XOXOX

Let me read you this book…

Of course my kid would choose and get accepted to a private college, out of state.

Offfffff course it would cost 40k a year. Of course. Even with the college fund and my savings – it’s a four year program. sigh (that’s after the massive scholarship).

Maybe I should learn to make penis socks.

Stand on the corner maybe? I think I’m too old to get on the pole.

I never asked my kid’s bio father for child support. Man am I kicking myself now. Kidding. Fucking that.

Even if I kick the bucket right now, my life insurance would only cover two years of school. LOL

What if I start an OnlyFans of me sitting in the backyard reading aloud nineteenth-century literature? Because really I feel like that’s all I am capable of.

To the back yard I go!

Catriona

XOXOXO

What is under your bed?

Books?

Dirty socks?

Porn?

Penis socks? OH MY STARS, IF IT ISSSSSS PENIS SOCKS I WANT TO SEEEEEEEEE!

Can you guess what’s under my bed?

Did you guess Ramen?

NO? Well you obviously don’t have kids pftttt.

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This is parenting. Duh.

Catriona

XOXOXOX

Sike Bitches, Pansy never left

Anyone order a Breakthrough PTSD episode? Anyone? No? Must have been me.

It’s my own fault. I got cocky. I poked the bear too many times in too short of a time period. Coming back here. Reading old entries. Allowing my brain the open that file again. Looking at things I usually avoid.

Cleaning my room out, trying to get rid of things. Somehow my oldest computer is out and my kid is calling my name. I look up and “I found something”. The look on my kid’s face. Sigh.

It was in the disc drive of the computer I’ve avoided for years.

I’m a crying mess. I haven’t been like this in over two years. Turns out I’m not better, I’m just busy. Hahahah. Fuck. FUCK.

Now I’m sleeping (not sleeping at all) next to my laundry because cleaning came to a screeching hault.

Can we not? Can we not do this? Fuckkkkkkkk. It’s 3:56am and I have to be up at 9 for the kid’s ortho and then work. The sky was weird today; I knew I shouldn’t have pushed my luck.

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Catriona

Xoxoxo