Plague Diary: Recap, with contemplation on fear and bravery

[lydy]

I’m not sure why it feels important to say all this, but it does feel important.  I’ll start out by saying that I’m, as of the writing of this, fine.  And yet.

 

I have some significant mental health challenges.  Always have.  I was suicidally depressed when I was 16…not that anyone noticed.  Getting through my teens and twenties was difficult, exhausting, and hard on everyone around me.  I’m 58, now, and I’ve come to appreciate certain things about myself.  One of them is that I have, by and large, substituted routine for resilience.  I am strong, but brittle.  A too-hard hit from reality, and I shatter.  When that happens, I dissociate, and it takes me time to reassemble.  So far, I have always managed the reassembly.  But it scares me, and I worry about the day when that happens and I can’t find all the bits of myself.  It is possible that I am wrong, but I do truly think that it remains one of the possible outcomes.  And that is one of the reasons why I rely so heavily upon routine.  

 

At the end of 2020, I was looking at having my unemployment run out, and the profession I work in was not doing much in the way of hiring in Minneapolis.  There were a few casual jobs, which were mostly being taken by people with a lot more experience than I have.  While there were some day jobs, I was very worried about working a day shift.  I have not had a significant recurrence of depression since I started working nights, and I think it extremely likely that there is a connection.  I applied for a Traveler job and as a night tech, because on balance, it felt like upending my living situation would be less destabilizing than upending my sleep schedule.  I took a job in Cleveland.

 

I want to pause, here, and stress how incredibly brave that was, for me.  Other people have other challenges, and I am aware that for some people, this kind of thing would have been a doddle, and for others, unthinkable. For me, it was exactly at the edge of what I thought I could manage and do.  I made lists, I pre-packed for weeks, I made arrangements with my family, I fretted, and I cried a little bit.  I asked David, repeatedly, if he thought I could manage this.  He said he thought I could, and that I was doing all the things necessary to make this work.  And I was very, very afraid.  

 

Right before I headed for Cleveland, I was just a wee bit sick, with a symptom which is sometimes associated with COVID, but was much more likely to be the Brussel sprouts I had eaten the night before.  However, because I was going to be in direct patient care, and to give myself peace of mind, I ordered an at-home COVID test.  I didn’t tell my family because I really didn’t think I had COVID.  Yeah…about that.  I should have told my family.  I was irresponsible. 

 

I was diagnosed while on the road to Cleveland, and had a full-on melt-down in the parking lot of a rest area.  After that was over, I mustered up every bit of bravery I had, called my family, called my girlfriend that I had potentially exposed, and then called my employer.  Being halfway to Cleveland, I went on, and after getting talked through my terror by a good friend, I called my Airbnb hosts, and told them I was positive.  They were unhappy, briefly thought about not letting me check in, but in the end were very nice, so I did.  Again, I cannot explain how much bravery this required from me.  It was so far out of my comfort zone I can’t even describe it.  But I did it.  

 

Remember that thing about routine?  Yeah, I was flying blind, with no instruments, no map.  But I stayed in the air.  I got the apartment set up.  I set up some basic routines.  I found the Trader Joe’s near me, the grocery store near me, got through my quarantine period with some added grace time to be safe, got my badge for work, and I was feeling incredibly brave and accomplished.  I was alone, in a strange city, but my network of friends and family had sent care packages, taken frightened tearful calls, offered various bits of assistance, and I felt loved and cared for, not at all isolated.

 

Then I broke my arm.  My work contract was cancelled, I was unable to care for myself, and the entire adventure was a terrible failure.

 

David came out, and has been wonderful.  After two months, I have most of my range of motion back, although the arm is incredibly weak.  My contract with Cleveland Clinic, which was cancelled after I broke my arm, has been reinstated, and I start work on 2/22.  And, yeah all that seems great.  So why was I weeping in terror and despair last night over a broken printer?  

 

Because it’s all been entirely too much.  I have been the bravest I have ever been in my life.  I have exhibited more resilience than I thought I had.  But as of last night, I still had a document I needed to get to my employer, which required I print out a physical form, and the printer that I bought for that purpose was defective, and I could not do that.  Also hanging fire are the medical bills for this disaster. I do not have health insurance, and my phone appointment for medical assistance is tomorrow.  David is leaving Wednesday.  I have to move house at the end of the month because this unit is being rented to someone else, and they declined to switch to another unit. And, honestly, every bit of this is workable.  I have a person to contact who can move my stuff into my car, and then out of my car to the new unit. I have already rented that unit.  David figured out a different work-around for my paperwork, and the employer has said it’s fine.  

 

But, dear friends, it really is too much.  And what I don’t know, can’t know for a while, is how much of this is stuff I’ve dealt with, and how much of this is stuff I’ve dissociated, and I do not know what the final bill will be.  I do not know if I will actually survive the reckoning.  I mean, if I were a betting person, I’d say I can probably survive.  I’m fifty-fucking-eight.  I’ve made it this far.  I’m unlikely to just shatter.  But…there isn’t certainty.  I need you to understand that.  I need to understand that.  I am not fragile, but I am brittle, and I do not know if I can survive my future.  I am afraid.  

Comments

[lcohen]

you are brave and i believe you can do it. and also, i completely understand about the printer. i have been laid low by that little manageable thing that was the one thing too many that i could not manage. always, always i prioritize getting my work done for my job and sometimes that is all i can manage. some days i am incredibly impressed with myself if i also manage to wash three dishes. you have been dealing with a LOT. but routine will come back to you--soon you will have your routine in cleveland and it will give you a base from which you can rebuild.

[lydy]

I do think I'll make it through. That I'll be "fine", whatever that word means. But I wanted to just acknowledge how hard this all has been.

[dewline]

I understand. I know this fear.

[lydy]

Thanks. One keeps on keeping on, because what else is one gonna do, you know?

[pameladean]

All the hugs. I think you are stark amazing, though of course it won't feel like that. Also, printers are of the devil or equivalent and have reduced me to sobbing incoherence when things were perfectly cromulent overall.

P.

[lydy]

It's always the little things, in the end. You brace for the big ones, and then some damn trivial piece of technology that really should work doesn't, and everything comes unglued because you got hit by a cross-wind, you know?

Hugs back. Pet the cats if they'll let you.

[magenta]

You are an amazing woman. I've known you a long time, and you have gone to hell and back uncountable times. I think you will be able to do it again. I wish there was more I could do to help besides standing on the sidelines and cheering you on.

[lydy]

I would just like to say that hell is not that interesting, and I really wish I didn't have a commuter plan.

[green_knight]

I feel you for 'The one thing that's too much' because it doesn't matter what it is, when you're out of cope, any small thing can be Too Much.

This, too, shall pass. It sounds as if you have a support system in place, and plans. You can do it. And I hope that, in time, you find joy in Cleveland and a new balance in your life, and work where you want to live.

[lydy]

I do have a great support system. And I think everything will be fine But dear god, I'm tired.

[julian]

I have, in the past, sat down and cried because I couldn't figure out which specific phone number I needed to call.

When a thing is the straw that broke the camel's back, it just *is*.

And I get the uncertainty. You may not be able to survive. But you may *be* able to, too, and that's also in the ether.

[lydy]

Thanks. Yep, I think I'll survive. I might even thrive; I have hopes. But goddamn, it's ton of work.

[princessofgeeks]

Sending you much love. Hoping for the best for you. Thank you so much for the update.

[lydy]

Thank you for the love!

no one's ever too old .

[haertstitch]

so you're still out there
and didn't come back?
it's great David could come be with you

you've very well considering the cards
that have been dealt.
moving and driving so far for a new job
even after getting broken
its great the contract is back
really hope the new work is fun
and you get to meet nice new people.

having to move is a bitch,
is it with the same landlord?

you arm is doing better ?
and you're able to do those private things, yes?
only thing you can do is just keep moving
can you knit ok?

please do call me
I'd love to hear your voice
I need to know your number so I answer
there's been false calls from ohio
I don't think you're from social security
or selling me a extended warranty .

Re: no one's ever too old .

[lydy]

I'll DM you. I would love to hear your voice, too. It's not like your own cards have been that auspicious, dear.

Re: no one's ever too old .

[haertstitch]

i tried writing to you
and it sent it back to me?
hope it worked

Re: no one's ever too old .

[lydy]

It worked. I'll give you a call later today. I need to do PT, and then I have a phone appointment with medical assistance.

Re: no one's ever too old .

[haertstitch]

kool
!
well warmer

[kaffy_r]

I have nothing wise to say, much as I wish I did. You have laid everything out, well and solidly, and you would have made a very, very good reporter.

You are in my heart. I'm also a good listener. If you need an expansion of your already excellent net of love and friendship, you can DM me.

[lydy]

I would have become an axe murderer the fourth time I had to cover a zoning commission meeting. :-) Ok, I would have given a very coherent account of exactly why I had to axe murder the commission...

But thank you for your high praise. Take care, yourself. Nothing about this last year has been easy for anyone.

[kaffy_r]

I would have given a very coherent account of exactly why I had to axe murder the commission...

*snort*

Thanks for that violently amusing mental image. Coming in a few days late, I hope you're feeling a little less brittle.

[lydy]

I am feeling less frightened. I had a good conversation with the manager of the sleep lab, and have a clear plan moving forward. Unfortunately, I also hurt my arm in a way that is taking more than a day to recover, and this has caused all sorts of additional anxiety. Sigh.

I am glad I managed to amuse you. I simultaneously think that zoning is incredibly important and brain-destroying.

[kaffy_r]

I simultaneously think that zoning is incredibly important and brain-destroying.

Mostly agreed, although I guess I can say that I knew I'd been a reporter too long because, among other things, I could get extremely excited about zoning, and happily get into the weeds with it. Perhaps that was a sign of my brain being destroyed ....

[quility]

This is a LOT. Even reading thus was on the edge of my tolerance. You are doing amazing!
I hope that once you settle into the job your routine will be able to kick in and that it will help restore your balance... Help refill your tank.
I think it's wonderful that you know so much about yourself. And that you did so many great things to the care of yourself. Including asking for help.

I have been feeling really fragile recently about the perfume some new person in my building is using in her? laundry. That makes my livingroom unusable by me for an hour after the door to our apartment is opened and closed. I feel brittle and like it's too much. I feel where you are coming from.
Hang in there. You CAN do it.

Re: printing. Terry likes to print all manner of things at kinkos/FedEx. I believe you can submit things online or use their machines on site. Maybe that could help? Or a library?

I believe in you.

[lydy]

What we actually did, David and I, was to find the photos of the last time I filled out the form, where I had hand-written the necessary stuff, then David altered the date to reflect the new date, and then I sent them to my employer, and they said they were fine. I was looking to have to go into a store to get the form printed... during the long conversation with tech support, where they told me that there was no way I could get the printer in time, I threatened to haunt HP headquarters if I died of COVID. Alas, my tech support person had no sense of humor.

[quility]

I love that solution. Very creative and effective!

[calimac]

Yeah. I know that feeling. I also know some coping mechanisms, but so do you. If it helps to know we're all pulling for you ...

[lydy]

It does help. I have had so many people, from several online communities, be supportive. As I said, I feel supported and loved, I do not feel isolated or alone. But I do, also, feel overwhelmed. Because, well, *gestures vaguely at my entire life*

[thewayne]

You have done a stunning job of getting through what has beset you, and you continue to knock 'em out of the park!

You keep swingin', girl! :-)

[lydy]

I'll keep swinging...just not with my right arm, just yet. :-)

[thewayne]

Maybe your right would be better for dribbling a basketball.... Work your way up to a baseball bat!  :-)

[lydy]

I am suddenly reminded of that great video of Beyonce with the baseball bat on "Lemonade". I aspire to that every goddamn day.

Sending warm fuzzy thoughts to your brave self

[mizzlaurajean]

You've done everything you can do be employed during a terrible time and had a terrible run of bad luck.

I'm glad you have such a good support network. But make sure you also have a daily self care plan -some simple daily routines you can implement during the move and as you settle in, and steps you can take to take care of yourself when your triggers and warning signs pop up (sounds like you already do some of this) and maybe a crisis plan to prevent or minimize a break where you may lose pieces that are difficult to find.

And remember it's okay to say something is too much for you to manage. This would be a lot for anyone to manage right now. Be gentle with yourself.

Re: Sending warm fuzzy thoughts to your brave self

[lydy]

Thanks for the kind thoughts. I mostly have things covered. I've hired someone to move me come the 28th, I know what kinds of things I need to make a space feel comfortable and safe. Things are hard, but possible. I still worry. God knows where the next hammer blow comes from, or how hard it will be.

[kalmn]

that's a lot. keep breathing.

[laramie]

Wow. I see plenty of people before me have noted that you are amazing. They are right, you've been brave and adaptive and it's hardly surprising that you might feel overwhelmed and freaked out at any point, having to deal with so much at once. I hope you will stop often to take a few breaths and let things go. Any given moment is likely to have some peace in it.