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

Deck everybody’s halls.

I’ve been trying to get into the Holiday spirt. It’s not working.

Here’s some photos of me faking it. LOL.

XOXOX

Catriona

OK, but now in French

Has anyone ever tried to read a physical book using a “Scan and Translate” App? No? Well, fuck. Guess we are going to find out how annoying *that* is. Hahaha.

A dear friend of mine wrote a book of her life and it happens to be in French. I’d been holding off on buying it. I have been trying to figure out how to get it in English as I am, sadly, only fluent in one language (two if you count sarcasm). She and I suck at communicating through E-mail, hahhahah (You get my E-mails yet? I have sent you all means of contact, lol). Anywayyyyy now I have a French book headed to my non-French home. BAHAHA. We are going to see how much gets lost in translation, hahaha.

I mean really this is my fault. I keep meaning to learn, and become fluent in, another language . BUT I CANNOT MAKE UP MY MIND WHICH ONE! It’s an important decision. I mean, I don’t want to waste what few brain cells I have left on the wrong one! lol. French is very high on the list. It’s in the top 3. I mean, also, I don’t even have time to brush my hair so learning a new language seems impossible.

In a surprising turn of evens my phone has told me to kick rocks and refuses to download google translate. BAHAHA. Stayed tuned for how much French kicks my ass. LOL.

I just keep thinking I need to figure out which country I want to be in once my kid graduates, because really that will dictate which language I stress my brain out with, cuzz you know, I’m getting old.

OK! I am off to day drink (keep your pants on, it’s regular drinking for me cuzz I work the night shift) and eat snacks.

Catriona

xoxoxo

Droping hints

For my birthday a few years ago my kid and my wife got me thirsty stone coasters. They were fitting because they had little sayings on them that sounded JUST like the things I tell (read “would yell at”) my family.

two days in a row I have found that the one I keep under my water on my bedside table has been placed on my sides of the bed. .

Think she’s trying to tell me something? hahahaha. I’m dead.

Guess I need to check in with my wife. BAHAHAHAHA!!!

Catriona

xoxoxox

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

Bread & Open Diary

Trigger Warning – all the suicide

A few months ago I was excited-mortified to find that Open Diary had been resurrected like a pet long buried in the yard of your childhood apartment complex . Like, do we even know that’s our pet? Everyone buried their pets there, you know? Fluffy? FLUFFY IS THAT YOU? I’m tired can you tell?

I had been writing in Open Diary since middle school. No joke. I wrote very day. Even if it was just tell tell the world to fuck off. I used it as an outlet for my anger. When my first wife started to go into leftfield I used it heavily to keep my head on straight. And then when she spiraled and I followed her down the rabbit hole, well, I used it to keep record of things because my brain was melting from the stress. In 2014 Open Diary shut down much to my disappointment, it was the only constant thing in my life. LOL. I downloaded my entries and put them away. My wife went on to kill herself, twice. I went on to completely lose my face (before, during and long after). After was all said and done I was completed messed up, lol, as we all know (if you don’t just take a look around, you will get the idea). I shoved anything that could remind me, hurt me, bring me back to that time right into the trash. I abandoned e-mails, sites, life.

Time went on and to my own surprise my brain started to heal. It only took 4 fucking years. Prior to then, I couldn’t allow my brain to even peek at that area of my brain without all hell breaking lose for unpredictable amounts of time. As time has gone on I have slowly, very very slowly, doubled back to some things. But, when I read the Open Diary was back online AND had preserved all old account entries – I was a deer in headlights.

About a week later I yelled at myself and made myself go try to reclaim the account. I was relieved when it wouldn’t let me in. LOL. I threw my hands up and forgot about it. I didn’t forget, my brain was cowering in the corner. About 2 months later I scolded myself enough to slink back over to the site and read up on reclaiming accounts. It basically said if you didn’t know the password or still have the E-mail you were shit out of luck as they needed poof of ownership. I didn’t have either of those things. But, I thought “Oh, I can prove who I am. Most of my entries were private and I did not hold back.” So I emailed them with some things I just knew would identify me. I think this is the only time being twisted worked to my advantage. HAHAHAHA. I didn’t get a response. So I thought: “Ok. Then maybe I just shouldn’t revisit all that” and I moved on satisfied that I tried.

But you KNOW that’s not where it ends because that’s not how the Universe does things when it comes to me. LOL. Fast forward about a month or so, I’m on vacation bangin’ through the woods having a great ol’ time when my phone alerts me to an E-mail. Guess who? Open Diary wanted to let me know they verified the information I provided and I now had full access to my old account. Great timing Universe, as per usual. LMAO. I took a mental note that that would be a bad idea, and forgot about it until just now; I was fucking around the house ignoring the chores I need to do when I remember that I was able to log in. So, I while I wait for the bread to bake (Have you ever made Peasant Bread??? It’s FUCKING AMAZING), I signed in and gave it permission to upload 15 years worth of my brain from the server. Just Now as I write this it finished uploading everything in the new interface. Oh man, this was my last entry:

“Fuck it, here it is.

The situation that I was talking about was this: 

She got smashed and attacked me. Punching, BITING, attacked me. I had to fucking hold her down. She was trying to torture me but was too drunk to pull it completely off.

For those of you who don’t already know, I’m a little over 100lb and 5’4. She’s 5’6 about 166lb..seeing the point here?

The thing is, I’ve seen her drink waaaaaay more than she did that night (several times) and never be like this. It was fucking crazy. I was afraid to go to sleep. Then two days later, even AFTER I showed her the videos (oh yes I took videos, so she couldn’t tell me I was lying) she was drinking again. She’s made a rule that no more than 6 beers can/will be in the house at a time but COME THE FUCK ON. YOU ATTACK ME, THEN JUST KEEP ON DRINKIN’? YEAH FUCK RIGHT OFF.”

That was June 30th 2012.

I didn’t even remember this until now. I guess that must have been around the time I shut down completely because I didn’t write again until they announced in 2014 the site was going down and only then I just simply wrote my E-mail address for my readers to find me.

Well I think Imma eat this bread and be done with the internet for a while. LOL.

Anyone else use Open Diary back in the day?

xoxoxo

Catriona

Disclaimer for those who have not been with me though all of this: My first wife had a very serious mental illness. One that we and her Doctors were trying to identify for a very long time, years. Things had spiraled out long before this. I was well versed in all that entailed being main caregiver to someone who was literally coming undone. It wasn’t her fault, for the most part. I was just tired, angry, and losing hope.

Suck my Prius

I own an obnoxiously colored older Toyota Prius. Seriously. We chose the car make, model, and year based on the fact that the kid would be driving it. The safety ratings were amazing – basically the little car turns into a little bubble on impact. The gas mileage was the other thing. I fully intended to give the car to my kid for college and since I am requesting no job the first year, I am footing the bill for gas. lol.

We bought the car with a lot of miles on it. I didn’t care because it was just meant to be the Kid’s first car, and everything that we read said that a prius would last longer than the average car so I wasn’t worried. It wasn’t expensive. Again, it was just supposed to the the family car for my mini me to learn how to drive and then I’d give the car to the kid and get one we really wanted….

But after this road Trip — I don’t know if I can give it up! Hahahah this thing handled my wife’s heavy foot, HEAVVVVY FOOT, climbed mountain roads (looking back were suchhhh a bad idea). It banged through several rocky parks and remote areas. We drove from Florida to South Carolina, then to camp in the Great Smokey Mountains. From there we went all the way through TN, down to New Orleans, on to New Mexico and the Arizona. Keep in mind we stopped in several towns in each state all within a two week time frame. We beat the crap out of this little car and it never once let us down. We then turned around and drove back. This thing is a machine. I can’t tell you how impressed I am. I may, no I probably will, buy another Prius. Plus. I cannot tell you how amusing it is to watch the wife speed by sports cars in a obnoxious tiny car yelling “SUCK MY PRIUS!” when someone fliped her off. BAHAHHAA.

I will have an entry coming about the trip coming soon. Getting back to work and such was harder than I thought it was going to be. lol. Check out my Twitter and Facebook for a few photos and such. I was live updating there.

xoxoxo

Catriona

Tell me about your Country

I’m in the US and I’m fearful.

We have uteruses.

We are gay.

My child will be directly effected if the US decides to “revisit” gay & trans laws.

I am absolutely at a loss. Next month we were to take a family road trip through several states to see which state we liked the best that is not the one we are currently in, look at colleges, and avoids US boarders. But, now what do I do? Do I instead nix that idea and save my money to find another country? If it were just me I would literally pack a bag, leave and figure it out when I got there. But I have a family, an elderly dog.

So tell me about your Country. Tell me about the laws you know of. Tell me how beautiful it is. Or, warn me about your Country and tell me why.

I’m currently doing research, but I need your input. AND GO!

Catriona

xoxoxo

(C. Where you at?)

My check engine light is on

I’ve hit a wall.

I am a firm believer that when you or your family hit a wall you move the wall. Break it, blow that shit up, you do whatever you need to. Hitting a wall is just a pause or a warning. You reevaluate. You move the wall.

I’m burned out. I pushed hard when we got hit with Covid. I pushed harder than I have ever pushed to make sure I could take care of my family. People were losing jobs, told to go home all over the world. I was not going to be one of them. People were losing their homes or living on borrowed time because they couldn’t pay their rent. It was only a matter of time for them. Healthcare professionals were being sent home in droves, or sent into forced early retirement. It was bonkers. That was not going to happen to us. I pushed. I moved up twice. I took on Covid from the beginning even when we didn’t know what we were working with because my coworkers were just kids. Scared kids. I headed the covid “Team” because I wasn’t scared (not in the way everyone else was). I knew scared people make mistakes. All it would have taken was one scared kid making a mistake and taking out the entire team. In in beginning, even highly trained professionals were breaking under pressure, so it had to be me. So, I did it. Every day until I couldn’t. For over a year I was one of two that responded to EVERY Covid patient. I was the one that directed how we handled things. It was the only thing I could do to help. I ended up with my own team, and then my own shift. I moved the wall more times than I can explain to you. I’m tired now. I’m a workaholic and for the first time in my life I need a break. Even when I’m sick I don’t sit down. I need to sit the fuck down. (Click here if you are new here – might help. lol)

I just explained it to my other half like this: “My check engine light is on. You know the one that comes on even when everything seems fine, but you know that it’s only a matter of time before everything comes to a full stop? Yeah. That. My check engine light is on.”

I have to change courses and slow down. Maybe the new trash human taking over as Supervisor is the Universe intervening. Horrible timing tho, wtf Universe. Braces and college, hello?

So, back to the drawing board. Working on some passive income so I can slow down at work. Or, you know, if that fails I will be that 40 year old on the pole at your local dance club. Hahahahah.

Off to ignore the laundry on my bed.

Catriona

XOXOXO