Tag: work

Trauma Lite

Published on by cmglife2 Comments

Things that stick with me…I have to blame a lot on my delicate mental condition, not everything, but a few things. Does anyone else have situations that haunt them with humiliation years after they have happened? Every once in a while they pop up as a random memory. I dwell on them for a few minutes, realize I am doing it and cast those memories aside. I’m keeping this light, so I’m not going to reveal some of the more traumatic stories.

Here it is: “Traumatic Lite”.

  1. Got so nervous at an interview typing test that the manager questioned if I could even type at all. She was actually mad. Must’ve thought I was trying to pull one over on her. (60 wpm actually.)
  2. Burnt a hole with a cigarette in the seat of John’s new Toyota pickup. Spent all day trying to see if I could replace the upholstery until I finally had to give in and tell him. (I don’t smoke anymore.)
  3. Rear ending a car because my breaks hadn’t been fixed. I pumped as much as I could all while smoking a cigarette, drinking a diet coke and blasting U2 on the stereo. The only thing missing was texting. Thank god they didn’t have that when I was a teenager, I, or someone else, would’ve been dead by now.
  4. A huge fundraiser I had organized. I was supposed to leave my house at 4am. Overslept until 6am. So late I couldn’t take Emily to daycare and had to take her with me. She cried the entire time with the co-worker that had to take her while I ran the event. Then I got “talked to” by my boss.
  5. One boss said to me, “We miss you when you’re not here”. Interpretation: You are taking too many “mental health” days.
  6. Left my VW running in gear with the emergency brake on at my dad’s house. Strangely, it lunged forward and ran straight into my dad’s new siding.
  7. Forgetting my keys and trying to get in the basement window. I pushed on the glass and the whole window fell in. Try explaining that to your husband!

Oh, too many to name. I’m sure everyone’s list is longer than this. Things really haven’t changed. Things like “Wardrobe Malfunctions” and misunderstanding people happen on an almost daily basis.

Standing Up-Date

Published on by cmglife

I know everyone has been wondering from a post a few weeks ago about my new stand up desk and how it has changed my life.

I suppose it has in a way. I now stand all day.

I’m still getting the occasional question asking how I’m getting along with it. As annoying as my “co-worker” is I know my answers repeated over and over again are getting to her (good).

“I really like it.”

“Don’t notice I’m standing.”

“Good for my back.”

“My neck doesn’t bother me anymore.”

While that is all true, it still hasn’t done what I got it for. After researching it thoroughly I found one can burn 70 – 90 calories per hour while standing.  It still hasn’t put a dent in my weight. Now I wouldn’t go back to sitting again, but how disappointing!

Bottom line, I’m no thinner, but I would certainly recommend a stand up desk anyway, it makes me look taller.

Standing Up

Published on by cmglife3 Comments

In an ongoing attempt to get rid of the “middle aged spread” I am getting a stand up desk at work. The office is a buzz with this new piece of futuristic equipment!  I’m not sure why it is such a renegade idea.  So many professions stand all day long.  Waitresses, pharmacists, factory workers, cashiers…the list could be as long as this page.

It hasn’t come yet, but I am getting ready for it’s arrival.  I have ordered a chef’s mat with shock absorbent qualities and arch supports for my shoes.  Not only will it help my health (weight) it will solve that annoying problem of getting up and down from my chair every two minutes to help a student or a parent at the counter.

The anticipation of it’s arrival is killing me!  I’ll let you know as soon as it arrives and begins to transform my life in every aspect!

Peace of Mind

Published on by cmglife

It wasn’t so bad at first.  I could cope with the gum smacking and the loud voice.  Well, actually that is a lie.  Nice, I’ve started out my maudlin plea with a lie.  I hate this person…how’s that for the truth? I’ll start out again.

Six months ago it began.  It wasn’t so bad at first.  A little loud and talked a lot, but as time went on more annoying and downright obnoxious behavior surfaced.  A flippant attitude to the kids, talking with mouth full, sweats stuffed into slippers, loud personal calls, gossiping and on and on and on.

All of this only three feet from my desk. I have to force myself not to roll my eyes and sigh half the day.

How is a quiet, polite, professional, anxiety ridden bipolar II woman supposed to handle this day in and day out? Seven hours a day!  I am either a zombie or a nervous wreck by the time I get home.

My doctor thinks the combination of this person and my friend dying has been too much on my poor little brain and it’s buckling under the added stress.  Unnecessary anxiety attacks.

I’m tired of persevering.  I don’t know whether I deserve it or not, but I just want a little peace of mind.

What the #!*$@ now?

Published on by cmglife

What to write about? What to write about? Hmmm, I’ll write about PTSD shall I?

Right out of left field it hit me.  Going along minding my own business and then POW! Something went wrong at work and it was my fault. I tell you, it is exhausting trying to be perfect all the time to avoid such blind sides.

I somehow shakily made it to my friend’s office and closed the door in time to burst into a quiet sob. My mind was in chaos.  Simultaneously trying to calm myself and understand what the hell was going on again.

I am usually so stoic and have such a calm exterior that everyone rallied around me thinking it must be something pretty serious.  What could possibly bring her to her knees like this?  I never try to explain it, no one would understand.

I’m six again being screamed at by Sister Ann. I’m eight being screamed at by Sister Sean.  I’m ten being bullied by Josephine and Karen.  I’m…you get the pattern. Except the difference is no one was yelling at me.  No one was even the least bit annoyed or accusatory. I guess all I needed was just a whiff of disapproval.

And then there is my shame.  PTSD is usually associated with war, incest, near death experiences.  What’s my deal?

This is the first time this has happened since I’ve been “well”.  Doubting all of that now. Just how many pharmaceuticals is it going to take?