notokinthehead











{March 19, 2013}   Job Offer

There’s a job offer on the table for me. I have to take it. My Chief pulled me aside at a car accident scene this morning and told me that the fire commission voted unanimously to hire me for a new position: Fire Department Clerk. It will not be officially offered to me until after the first Thursday in April. Chief said they will pay me a stipend plus my regular pay, should I accept the position. Of course I will. I’m doing the work now, only I’m not being paid for it.

I’ve been seriously considering taking some psych classes at the local community college. It’s something that has interested me since junior high and it would give me an advantage on the rescue squad since about 50% of our medical calls are for people with mental illnesses.

It’s been snowing steady since about three this morning and we have five inches of snow. It’s supposed to stop for a period this afternoon, but then they say it’ll start falling at 3″ per hour until we have around 20″. Just when I got comfortable wearing t-shirts and button ups without a jacket or sweatshirt…



Here it is two in the morning and I’m awake and writing in my journal because there is way too much on my mind for me to be able to fall asleep. I wrote two and a half pages of which I cannot find the motivation to type up for you guys. So I figure I’ll try to post a shorter version, hopefully with less B.S. than I have written in my journal. My therapist is just going to love me in the morning when she sees how much I have written for her to peruse.

So I thought I had it all figured out. I thought I finally knew who I was after many years of struggling with myself and my sexuality. I’ve been writing in previous posts about this mystery “A” person. I have deliberately left out any words that refer to their gender because on my “About Page” I have clearly stated that I am a lesbian. Well, “A” stands for Adam. I haven’t lied about my sexuality. Not to my knowledge anyway. I began dating Adam last week. I can’t even convey how confused I am right now. I don’t even know where to start or how to start. Let me describe Adam for you: he’s an ex-marine who has deployed twice to Iraq. He’s very respectful and polite. He’s a big dork who loves animals and children and cartoons. He’s responsible. He has a good job, helps support his sister and nephews and is making it on his own. Blonde hair, blue eyes… he’s most girl’s dreams. I like him. I enjoy spending time with him and we have fun when we go out. I like how he opens doors for me, asks me before he touches me and waits for me to sit before he takes his seat. He’s a perfect gentleman. And he says he really likes me and wants to spend so much time with me.

We haven’t done anything more than hug. He won’t try unless I provoke it. He doesn’t know that I consider myself a lesbian. He doesn’t know about my past or my mental health problems. He has met my parents, my brother, my Aunt and a few guys from the Fire Department. They all think he’s great. They don’t know that he lost his license back in April from a DUI and can’t drive. They don’t know that he’s a recovering alcoholic who suffers from PTSD from being in Iraq. I don’t know why any of the above matters.

Anyway… I don’t know what I’m doing. I really like Adam, but I don’t want to sleep with him and I don’t see myself wanting to in the future. He says that’s okay, he’s not big on sex. Well… I have a feeling the reason I don’t want to sleep with him is because he’s carrying the wrong equipment. My biggest issue right now is that I seem to have fallen back into my old confusion about my sexuality. Am I willing to give him a try because I’m so desperate for some company, for someone to care for me, for someone to hold onto me? That doesn’t seem fair to him. In my previous posts I have talked about “Maya”, my physical therapist with whom I had a short fling with. With Adam in mind I have asked myself, if Maya showed up asking me for more, what would I do? Well, I’m almost one-hundred percent positive that I’d drop Adam in a heartbeat to be with her. So is that my answer?

I feel guilty, too. My Mother is hoping that Adam has “changed” me into a heterosexual. I feel guilty because I’m like my parents last hope- my four sisters have all been very disappointing in their selection of men, and then they end up with a gay daughter? I know my mother is hoping this from the way she has been asking questions about how our dates have gone. And of course I feel guilty because I don’t want to use Adam. I don’t want to hurt anyone else. However, in the back of my head there’s that little voice you hear everywhere: “How do you know you don’t like something if you don’t try it?”. Once again, that’s not fair to Adam, is it?

So I’m struggling with the seemingly never-ending question of who the hell am I? I thought I knew. Do I?

 



{October 9, 2012}   No Regrets!

Okay, so I do have regrets, many of them, but fighting that fire last night is not one of them. My back and shoulder feel like I was hit by a truck last night, but I think it was worth it. Now that the adrenaline is gone I can feel every reason that I’m not supposed to do firefighting. However the pride that I feel for myself and my department hasn’t changed a bit this morning. It’s a wonderful feeling 🙂

Today I’m going to my therapist to fill out paperwork. I guess my elation from last night is flowing over into today because I don’t feel the least bit of anxiety about having to go out/leave the house.

What a great feeling! 😀



{October 1, 2012}   Psych!… Emergencies

It’s incredibly sad and amazing how many psych calls we get in my town. Being on the rescue squad I have to go. I’d really rather not, especially when the patient is wielding a machete. These calls bother me especially and the only reason I can think of is something in each of my psych patients reminds me of me: thirteen year old boy, overdosed on anti-depressants and flipped out in anger. Fifty-nine year old man, lonely, tired of being disabled, overdosed on Oxycodone and pulled a machete when the cops showed up (that was this morning’s call). Forty-two year old female, “just tired”, overdosed on alcohol and Citalopram and turned the gas on in her residence so she could “take a nap and feel better”. Every one of these patients were reaching out for help, wanting someone to care, someone to be there for them. I’ve been there and I still revisit those old feelings from time to time. I understand them, and that scares me, for I know many people don’t and I have heard my own partners call them “crazy” at the end of the shift. They’re not crazy. They’re hurting, they feel defeated and they’re doing the only thing they can in their desperation to say “I need help”.

I console myself by knowing that I was the first one there when they needed the help, I held their hands and I listened to them. Just by being there and giving them my undivided attention I’ve showed them that they are not alone, that people do care about what happens to them. I’ve demonstrated to them that when they need someone, someone will be there for them. I wish I could get to them before they do something drastic and life-threatening, but that’s unrealistic in my profession. I just have to take comfort in knowing that I was there, I am here, and I will go running out the door every time they call, racing to their side to aide them, both physically and emotionally.



{September 19, 2012}   To-Do List One Mile Long

Oh the stresses!

I saw a doctor again this morning and she told me my Scoliosis is getting worse and that it’s causing my upper body to fall out of “balance”. Thank you twisted, bent and curved spine for all of this pain! I will go see her again in two weeks for another adjustment to my back… or entire body, really.

I received a notice in the mail about my court date: November 15th. I immediately called my attorney in a panic to find out if I HAVE to attend the hearing. Unfortunately I do. Of course I am now in a permanent state of panic and anxiety.

I had to call my psychotherapist to see if she would be a “good advocate” for my court hearing. She didn’t answer so I’m anxiously waiting for her to call back. Another reason I want to talk to her: I responded to a call the other night that is bothering me very much. We had to have a police escort to the scene: a twenty-one year old female was violently physically and sexually assaulted and the perp was still on the loose, on foot, in the area. What disturbed me so much about it, and I know well that I am not here to judge my patients, is being the only female responder I was the one to provide care to this patient. As I spoke with her and took care of her she kept smiling an evil smile and laughing. I know this girl, I went to school with her, and there’s nothing mentally wrong with her. She was beaten up, but being a survivor of sexual assault myself, I am having a difficult time dealing with her reaction. This call has been weighing heavily on my mind…

I also had to call a psychologist’s office to request a copy of a psychological evaluation that I had done several months ago. Surprise- no answer! So I’m still waiting to get a call back on that.

AND in less than an hour I have to go get the kids from daycare.

What I really wanted to do today: NOTHING. I wanted to lay in bed or lounge around and try to relax some. But that thought went to hell at 8:30am when my pager went off for an MVA involving a utility pole. Don’t worry, the drunk took off on foot, he wasn’t hurt.



{August 16, 2012}   Acting… Not my Strong Suit

I saw my psychotherapist this morning. It was a short session because I didn’t really have anything to talk about. Well… there wasn’t anything I wanted to talk about. Our session played out very similar to having coffee with a friend- some chit chat and swapping of stories. I didn’t want to talk about how I’ve been very angry lately and don’t know why; I didn’t want to talk about anything, really. Isn’t it strange how sometimes you feel the need to hold things inside, even if they’re eating you alive? I wonder why that is?



{July 16, 2012}   Getting Nervous

My EMT class starts tomorrow and I’m getting nervous. Crazy thoughts keep going through my mind like: Once I’m certified, peoples lives will be in my hands. What if I screw up and do more harm than good? What if I overlook the smallest thing and the patient pays the price?

I wonder if this is normal for soon-to-be EMTs? At this point I’m lacking the confidence that it’s going to take to be a good EMT. Or student, for that matter. I’m told the class that I’m attending is a large one with a lot of students. That makes me nervous, I do better in more intimate settings. I’m praying that I can keep my anxiety at bay so I can get through this class.

On the bright side I see my psychotherapist this morning, so I think our forty-five minutes will be dedicated to calming my nerves and anxiety and pep-talks. So far everybody on the department and most everybody in my family believes in me and supports me in this new venture. I guess I worry about letting them down. What if I don’t pass my clinical? Or practicals or CBTs? I have it in my mind that the testing is a one-shot deal, but in reality you can keep doing the testing until you pass it. But if I fail the first time, does that mean I’m not cut out for being an EMT?

Oh the questions and worries!



{June 11, 2012}   I Complain Way Too Much

We got a call today for a brush fire. It just happened to be a few houses up the road from my parent’s house. It was a whopping eighty-five degrees in the sun and about one hundred and six on scene. With all of our fire gear on I thought I was going to pass out. Each fire call I go on I realize more and more that I am in this mostly for Rescue.  To add to my decision of wanting to do Rescue versus fire fighting, my body can’t handle the weight of the gear. My body hurts twenty-four/seven as it is, then you throw fifty pounds of gear on top of the pain and you have a complete wreck. Eventually the adrenaline wears off and all I think about is how bad I’m hurting. I’m in rough shape after fighting that fire today and all I want (believe it or not) is a cold shower and a hot meal. Oh, and a nice, long nap, uninterrupted by my pager going off to inform me of yet another emergency.

I have some good news to report, too. I called my psychotherapist this morning and explained my need for an appointment sooner than July second. Thankfully, she squeezed me in for this Thursday.



No, I’m not pregnant. That would be impossible, trust me. However, for the last three or four days I’ve woken up sick to my stomach. I feel fine for the first five or ten minutes that I’m awake, but then severe nausea hits and I dry heave. Then I feel fine again (physically). I can only assume that it’s anxiety. I’ve been a little off lately and my session with my psychotherapist this morning proves that. I think I’ve only ever been anxious about seeing her the first two or three times I met with her. But this morning I was very anxious, I couldn’t stop shaking my leg and fiddling with my hands the entire session. I gave her the painting I did and she seemed like she really liked it… but why can’t I accept a compliment? I feel almost paranoid, like people give me compliments to build me up and then drop me hard. Maybe somewhere in my subconscious I’m thinking that if I don’t accept the compliments and allow myself to feel good about it, then I don’t risk being hurt? I’m not sure.

Back to how I’ve been a little “off” lately… I’m very irritable. The smallest thing like an old man driving ten miles per hour under the speed limit in front of me (when I’ve nowhere to go) pisses me off. The last two sessions of therapy found me to be bitchy, quiet and miserable. I don’t want to go anywhere or see anybody, but I don’t want to stay here. I want to sleep but I don’t want to have the dreams I’ve been having: people whispering about me while looking at me, getting text messages from my friends saying how selfish and miserable I am…

Today I feel hopeless, irreparable. I feel like no amount of medication or therapy will mend the broken, messed up person that I’ve become. Today… I don’t want to face today. I don’t want to be here.



{March 13, 2012}   Time To Face The Music

So today I go see my psychotherapist after I drunk dialed her when I was shit faced. This should be interesting… Meanwhile, another friend of mine who is a lot older than I am has not spoken to me since Friday after she heard about my little adventure on my way home from the bar. She’s pissed that I didn’t call her for a ride. Whoopsie! I forgot about her! Had I thought of her, I would have gladly called her for a ride. So everybody except for this friend and my psychotherapist like me, or better yet- love me, when I’m drinking myself to oblivion.

And the world turns…

Oh yes, and I have acquired a new nickname: Whoopsie. Hahaha. I’m still trying to decide if that’s good or bad… I’ll keep you updated 🙂   It’s a beautiful day out here, I hope you all have a good day! I plan on it!



et cetera