Grief counseling of my own kind
I've been very depressed and its been hard for me to talk to anyone. Sis has said I really should, that I need to, even suggested a grief counselor. Neither of us can stand therapists, but maybe a grief counselor would be different. I still don't think I can, so I will try writing it out. Maybe this will help me.
Christmas was very hard. My father came up, but things have never been easy for us with him. Growing up, it was always easiest when he was traveling for work. He would be gone all week and only home on the weekends. This was just right. He wouldn't be around long enough to get on our nerves and start fights. Then his work changed and he no longer was traveling. This caused us to group even more around mom and the distance grew between dad and us. Now, how do I put this? Dad doesn't want to lose his family, but the others, mainly sis and bro, not so much my other sis and bro seems to be doing better, but they don't talk to him. This leaves me, and although I am the most like him, I have almost the hardest time getting along with him. Christmas, we wanted him out of here so fast, and he was here for a week. That's it. Yet it was too long. He didn't even seem to notice how much his actions were driving us mad. We are all having to deal with mom's passing, but we can't handle his ways. He has always seemed to enjoy passing along bad news and getting attention for sympathy or something. Then, as soon as he is gone, he's talking about coming back! Mainly to give us all this stuff from the house, as if we have the room for it! We are trying to get things set up here, and it is finally coming along, but its taken a long time and is coming along slowly. It may be a full year after we moved in before we are finally done and happy with our place.
This depression hit, especially after my grandmother (Dad's side) passed away. I know this will sound mean, but I never really loved her. She caused more problems as I was growing up. She never seemed very sensitive to us. I shouldn't speak badly of her, as she is gone, but she was what she was to us. When you are gone, you leave behind what you were, good or bad. But while I was up at her house for the funeral, I saw that so many of the art work in that house was done by my mom. There was one in particular that I wanted more than anything. I don't care much for what is to come to me from my grandmother, but I wanted that painting. My aunt decided it would be best not to distribute grandmother's things until after grandpa passes, that way he doesn't feel like the house is that more empty. I can understand that in many ways, but why couldn't I have one, small painting? ONE small painting that was hanging in the GUEST room? ONE small painting done by my MOTHER! That was the beginning of February.
Then mom's birthday was at the end of the month and I started to crack. I am having to change things at work so I can cope with this. I simply can't handle the cancers anymore. Where it was once interesting, it is now depressing, or infuriating. I hear of all these things that could have been done for mother but weren't and I can't stand to hear it. My supervisor has gotten permission from our department supervisor to switch me into another group. I should be moving into the Blood group, which means I will continue to work under the same supervisor and with the same people. I hope it will help me enough so I won't have to start looking for another job, but I may have to anyway. I would no longer be working with possible cancers but with a younger group of patients. I would be seeing diagnosis for babies, children, young adults, couples wanting kids, and pregnant mothers. Maybe more, but that's all I know from watching my friends work and asking random questions over the last year. I should move over for a few days each week soon, but I would still be needed on the Bone Marrow side on Saturdays, as we never seem to have enough people. We have trainees everywhere and I have to wait long enough for one to be capable to take up the slack from my leaving. I had hoped I would start this week, but no such luck. Though the newest trainee in the Bone Marrow group is moving through his training a little faster than anyone else and I do believe my need to change is behind that. But my hopes and my feelings were higher when my super had given me the impression that I could start right away in the Blood group, just a day or two each week, but that's something, and could be enough to help me hold on. When I found out it wouldn't be this week, I plummeted. I really don't know now when I will start with the Blood group. Also, I heard one of the women I work with is waiting, in hope, for an acceptance letter and may be giving her two week notice next week if she does get it. My supervisor doesn't know about this hope, and it may cause problems for me.
Only one of my coworkers knows that I have asked for this and I worry about what will happen when the others find out. I don't want to have to tell everyone why I asked for it. It was hard enough to ask my super and explain why as best I could, which really wasn't very well. I know I will have to though, especially as the friend I told asked me why is such a way that definitely showed an interest in some rumor, like, is someone in my group causing me trouble so I am changing, type of thing. He almost seemed disappointed that it wasn't some spicy gossip (and he doesn't gossip). My super is great though and has been very understanding and forgiving for me. Hell, my whole shift got together and gave me a food basket when I returned to work after a week off for grief. They gave it to me at a meeting and I nearly cried I was so surprised. I thought maybe I would get a card and I knew they would do something, after all, we celebrate birthdays and such well, I knew they would care about me and they did. It was a really nice basket and had lots of yummy stuff in it. It was because of that basket that I even ate dinner that week. I really didn't care much for making any food. I still go through phases of simply not eating cause I don't care. My coworkers, I should say friends, but I feel very distant from all of them right now, showed me that they cared when they asked me how mom was and how I was when I had to drop everything and take off to see her in August of last year. I think they know I am still having trouble adjusting, but I don't know how they will take this change. I am sure I am going to be called a traitor. There is friendly rivalry between our two groups, but I don't know if I can handle even friendly jests. I haven't been able to tell seriousness from jests, lately.
Things have been upsetting me lately that really shouldn't. My coworkers are often goofing around, playing on the computer, talking on the phone, doing just about anything but working. Sure, they get their work done, but the rest of their time, when they should be doing other things, other work things, they aren't, and I am. I hate it, but we have to report how our time is spent and I don't like fudging the numbers to cover my lazy ass not doing what I am supposed to be doing. The friend I told about wanting to move explained to me how we all have quotas and often the workers will reach their quota and spend hours talking to finish their day. This is first shift and they have 3 supervisors walking around. The supers have to know what is going on, but don't do anything about it. I hate that! I feel that it is poor work ethic and even in jobs I hated, I don't like to slack, I have a job to do and I will do it well.
I don't remember much anymore. Though I remember more now than I did before. It is slowly coming back to me as I think about it. And I seem to think about mom all the time. I think about her, on and off, all day, every day. I don't know what to do, I don't know how to go on, and yet, it is all I can do. Sis has told me several times that people appear strong to others when all they really are doing is the only thing they can, carry on with life. There is nothing else we can do. Sure, I know mom would want me to go back to school as I have wanted to since I left, but I don't seem to have the determination for it anymore. I still want to, and I know it would make me happier, but my motivation is shit. There are things I know I should do, things I should want to do, but I don't do them. I will sit and pretend things are what they are not. Or I will remember days I didn't remember before November 3, 2006. I have a message in my voice mailbox that mom left the day before she passed, and I will listen to it so I never forget her voice. It seems to help me remember her better. When she first passed I couldn't remember all that much from before the broken arm and the cancer. It was the most recent and I have never been good with childhood memories. I remember now, though. I remember more and more moments that before were lost to me. Its because I sit and do nothing. I sit and think but I cry too. Its the only thing I can seem to do, is cry. When I am left to my own devices, that is. I don't want to appear as if I do nothing all day, everyday. No, I go to work, and I work, though more slowly and sedately than before. I try to give the appearance of normality to my coworkers. I laugh and smile, I even sing some, but I am always dead inside. Its always there, hovering just out of conscious reach, waiting for the next reminder to come crashing through my defenses. In the Bone Marrow group, those reminders are everywhere. I do lots of things on the weekend, it seems. Used to be, sis and I were pretty damn lazy, just relaxing and enjoying our time off. Now, though, we are putting together/moving furniture, buying/putting up curtains, moving/emptying boxes, and putting up shelves, oh, and cleaning, lots and lots of cleaning and trash. It's easier for me on the weekends, and I dread the coming week. Sure, most people hate starting the next week, having to go back to work and all, but once, I used to enjoy what I did, felt like I was doing a good thing and helping people in a way I could. Not anymore. I feel empty and angry at work. The weekends are when I feel like life could improve, though it will never be as good as it was when I could talk to mom any time, day or night.
It was nice to talk, right now, anyway. I try to talk some to others but it's so much easier to talk via the written word than physically speaking.
Christmas was very hard. My father came up, but things have never been easy for us with him. Growing up, it was always easiest when he was traveling for work. He would be gone all week and only home on the weekends. This was just right. He wouldn't be around long enough to get on our nerves and start fights. Then his work changed and he no longer was traveling. This caused us to group even more around mom and the distance grew between dad and us. Now, how do I put this? Dad doesn't want to lose his family, but the others, mainly sis and bro, not so much my other sis and bro seems to be doing better, but they don't talk to him. This leaves me, and although I am the most like him, I have almost the hardest time getting along with him. Christmas, we wanted him out of here so fast, and he was here for a week. That's it. Yet it was too long. He didn't even seem to notice how much his actions were driving us mad. We are all having to deal with mom's passing, but we can't handle his ways. He has always seemed to enjoy passing along bad news and getting attention for sympathy or something. Then, as soon as he is gone, he's talking about coming back! Mainly to give us all this stuff from the house, as if we have the room for it! We are trying to get things set up here, and it is finally coming along, but its taken a long time and is coming along slowly. It may be a full year after we moved in before we are finally done and happy with our place.
This depression hit, especially after my grandmother (Dad's side) passed away. I know this will sound mean, but I never really loved her. She caused more problems as I was growing up. She never seemed very sensitive to us. I shouldn't speak badly of her, as she is gone, but she was what she was to us. When you are gone, you leave behind what you were, good or bad. But while I was up at her house for the funeral, I saw that so many of the art work in that house was done by my mom. There was one in particular that I wanted more than anything. I don't care much for what is to come to me from my grandmother, but I wanted that painting. My aunt decided it would be best not to distribute grandmother's things until after grandpa passes, that way he doesn't feel like the house is that more empty. I can understand that in many ways, but why couldn't I have one, small painting? ONE small painting that was hanging in the GUEST room? ONE small painting done by my MOTHER! That was the beginning of February.
Then mom's birthday was at the end of the month and I started to crack. I am having to change things at work so I can cope with this. I simply can't handle the cancers anymore. Where it was once interesting, it is now depressing, or infuriating. I hear of all these things that could have been done for mother but weren't and I can't stand to hear it. My supervisor has gotten permission from our department supervisor to switch me into another group. I should be moving into the Blood group, which means I will continue to work under the same supervisor and with the same people. I hope it will help me enough so I won't have to start looking for another job, but I may have to anyway. I would no longer be working with possible cancers but with a younger group of patients. I would be seeing diagnosis for babies, children, young adults, couples wanting kids, and pregnant mothers. Maybe more, but that's all I know from watching my friends work and asking random questions over the last year. I should move over for a few days each week soon, but I would still be needed on the Bone Marrow side on Saturdays, as we never seem to have enough people. We have trainees everywhere and I have to wait long enough for one to be capable to take up the slack from my leaving. I had hoped I would start this week, but no such luck. Though the newest trainee in the Bone Marrow group is moving through his training a little faster than anyone else and I do believe my need to change is behind that. But my hopes and my feelings were higher when my super had given me the impression that I could start right away in the Blood group, just a day or two each week, but that's something, and could be enough to help me hold on. When I found out it wouldn't be this week, I plummeted. I really don't know now when I will start with the Blood group. Also, I heard one of the women I work with is waiting, in hope, for an acceptance letter and may be giving her two week notice next week if she does get it. My supervisor doesn't know about this hope, and it may cause problems for me.
Only one of my coworkers knows that I have asked for this and I worry about what will happen when the others find out. I don't want to have to tell everyone why I asked for it. It was hard enough to ask my super and explain why as best I could, which really wasn't very well. I know I will have to though, especially as the friend I told asked me why is such a way that definitely showed an interest in some rumor, like, is someone in my group causing me trouble so I am changing, type of thing. He almost seemed disappointed that it wasn't some spicy gossip (and he doesn't gossip). My super is great though and has been very understanding and forgiving for me. Hell, my whole shift got together and gave me a food basket when I returned to work after a week off for grief. They gave it to me at a meeting and I nearly cried I was so surprised. I thought maybe I would get a card and I knew they would do something, after all, we celebrate birthdays and such well, I knew they would care about me and they did. It was a really nice basket and had lots of yummy stuff in it. It was because of that basket that I even ate dinner that week. I really didn't care much for making any food. I still go through phases of simply not eating cause I don't care. My coworkers, I should say friends, but I feel very distant from all of them right now, showed me that they cared when they asked me how mom was and how I was when I had to drop everything and take off to see her in August of last year. I think they know I am still having trouble adjusting, but I don't know how they will take this change. I am sure I am going to be called a traitor. There is friendly rivalry between our two groups, but I don't know if I can handle even friendly jests. I haven't been able to tell seriousness from jests, lately.
Things have been upsetting me lately that really shouldn't. My coworkers are often goofing around, playing on the computer, talking on the phone, doing just about anything but working. Sure, they get their work done, but the rest of their time, when they should be doing other things, other work things, they aren't, and I am. I hate it, but we have to report how our time is spent and I don't like fudging the numbers to cover my lazy ass not doing what I am supposed to be doing. The friend I told about wanting to move explained to me how we all have quotas and often the workers will reach their quota and spend hours talking to finish their day. This is first shift and they have 3 supervisors walking around. The supers have to know what is going on, but don't do anything about it. I hate that! I feel that it is poor work ethic and even in jobs I hated, I don't like to slack, I have a job to do and I will do it well.
I don't remember much anymore. Though I remember more now than I did before. It is slowly coming back to me as I think about it. And I seem to think about mom all the time. I think about her, on and off, all day, every day. I don't know what to do, I don't know how to go on, and yet, it is all I can do. Sis has told me several times that people appear strong to others when all they really are doing is the only thing they can, carry on with life. There is nothing else we can do. Sure, I know mom would want me to go back to school as I have wanted to since I left, but I don't seem to have the determination for it anymore. I still want to, and I know it would make me happier, but my motivation is shit. There are things I know I should do, things I should want to do, but I don't do them. I will sit and pretend things are what they are not. Or I will remember days I didn't remember before November 3, 2006. I have a message in my voice mailbox that mom left the day before she passed, and I will listen to it so I never forget her voice. It seems to help me remember her better. When she first passed I couldn't remember all that much from before the broken arm and the cancer. It was the most recent and I have never been good with childhood memories. I remember now, though. I remember more and more moments that before were lost to me. Its because I sit and do nothing. I sit and think but I cry too. Its the only thing I can seem to do, is cry. When I am left to my own devices, that is. I don't want to appear as if I do nothing all day, everyday. No, I go to work, and I work, though more slowly and sedately than before. I try to give the appearance of normality to my coworkers. I laugh and smile, I even sing some, but I am always dead inside. Its always there, hovering just out of conscious reach, waiting for the next reminder to come crashing through my defenses. In the Bone Marrow group, those reminders are everywhere. I do lots of things on the weekend, it seems. Used to be, sis and I were pretty damn lazy, just relaxing and enjoying our time off. Now, though, we are putting together/moving furniture, buying/putting up curtains, moving/emptying boxes, and putting up shelves, oh, and cleaning, lots and lots of cleaning and trash. It's easier for me on the weekends, and I dread the coming week. Sure, most people hate starting the next week, having to go back to work and all, but once, I used to enjoy what I did, felt like I was doing a good thing and helping people in a way I could. Not anymore. I feel empty and angry at work. The weekends are when I feel like life could improve, though it will never be as good as it was when I could talk to mom any time, day or night.
It was nice to talk, right now, anyway. I try to talk some to others but it's so much easier to talk via the written word than physically speaking.