Amber's Abode

the seven month itch; or, somewhere under the rainbows

I feel really overwhelmed right now.  Shortly after my last blog, I went to my first official counseling session here, which was good, but really hard.  So I knew I wouldn't hide anything, I wrote everything down about why I need counseling and read it to her.  Some of the stuff I have never admitted to needing help with before.  I'm proud of myself, but I still feel bruised.

More recently, I went to my OB/GYN who turned out to be an awesome guy, but that was also hard because I decided on a hysterectomy.  I know this will be a good thing for my pain level and my health, and so I chose to do it without anyone goading me, but it's something I would never ever do in 1 million years if I were able-bodied.  Because I've always wanted to be a mom, and almost was once.  And they make you sign this poster size sheet of paper that says and is underlined in bold in about three different languages that you are completely aware that you will never ever be able to have a baby after this procedure.  It was hard to sign.  Not only that, but about two people at least reiterated the statement to me, you know, just in case I couldn't read.  Sigh.  Also, by the time I got home, the entire staff knew about the impending operation, and was inclined to be celebratory about it and had decided that I should be as well.  Really?

The atmosphere around here is getting thicker with stress.  The caregivers are being unprofessional, like having turf wars on who actually has to do the laundry.  Meanwhile, laundry piles up to the ceiling and I have been told that I cannot request for them to do the laundry because it is their job to do it by themselves.  And apparently if I ask them directly to do anything, even if it is directly related to my care, too much, then I am a complaining bitch whom no one wants to talk to.  When I was made aware of the fact that they thought I was a complaining bitch who was trying to turn everybody against each other, (because I had no clue before, because they are not used to talking to their residents directly, so eventually when they couldn't stand it anymore they went to Daniel.  Very inappropriate, just in general and because if I don't know there is a problem, I'm unable to fix it) I immediately turned my outer attitude/affect around; making sure to say please and thank you a lot, and not saying anything remotely whiny to them, even when the situation deserves it.

Like yesterday, when I had an accident, called the caregiver to inform her that she needed to come help me change, and she showed up three a half hours later, leaving me with an open sore.  Oh, superiors were called, trust me, despite my fear of retaliation because of my past abuse.  But I did not say negative word one to her directly when she finally showed up, even though my whole body was vibrating with pain and anger.

But do you think the caregivers' ways or attitudes have changed for the better since mine has, even though it has been officially noted that mine has?  No, of course not, or I probably wouldn't even be writing this blog.  They still don't talk to me because they've been told not to talk about their personal lives and they're barely out of teenager years, so if they are told not to talk about themselves, there is nothing to talk about.  Sigh.  Sometimes, it's like living in a funeral home.  More accurately, it's exactly like living in my high school years, walking on eggshells at home because even if you didn't think you did anything wrong you must have, or you were about to.

And I feel sorry for Daniel and the few other outside people that I have right now.  Mostly Daniel.  Because all that anger and frustration that I am dutifully masking from the caregivers ends up spilling onto him sometimes, no matter how hard I try not to.  I am so grateful for him being so patient with me.  He doesn't run because he loves me, and because we know that this is an extenuating situation and I'm not being angry every day on purpose.  This will get better someday soon.  I believe this.  I will work to make it better.

But how I long for the day when Daniel's face lights up just because he sees me, not darkens with wondering question marks, bracing for whatever issue he has to try to help fix next.  I need my boyfriend.  Other people need to step up and be caseworkers.  But trying to help is an automatic response as long as the situation needs it.  That is why it is my priority to fix the situation.  First by trying to lay it all out in some kind of meeting, but I don't really think that is going to work too well though I'm willing to try.  The whole system of being overbearing and/or lazy for mentally challenged consumers isn't going to change for one non-mentally challenged one.  But it looks like we're going down with guns blazing.  But ultimately my goal is to move.  Again.  To the suburb where both Daniel and the college and what passes for a transportation hub here are.

But I still want to get at least a couple of good showers here first from my brand-new shower, with my still nonexistent, or invisible, shower chair.

What is really freaking me out a little is that today, while I was riding on what I will forever call the Max, I saw the date and realized that today, I've been in Arizona for seven months.  That seems like a long time, and yet the weird part is that I'm still so unsettled and unsure of my place here and my footing as to how to go about things that I still feel like I just showed up yesterday.  I keep clarifying that I love being here because of the weather, and Daniel, and the other few friends that I have made.  But I've never felt this lost or disoriented in my life.  I could always figure things out before.  And I know I will again.  But I was always so much faster at it.  And so I feel like I failed somehow.  Failed myself or am not myself somehow.  And that leaves me terrified sometimes that Daniel and the other ones will leave because I'm not the same person they knew from before and loved.  This can't happen.  I need both Daniel and my friends, and not just as advocates or problems solvers.

And I always feel a little lost and freefalling like on my own, but not when thinking about or being near Daniel.  He is literally an anchor, because around him I feel stronger like I can do anything; and like everything makes sense.  I know who and what I am.  I am a complete woman who is loved beyond anything she has ever seen before.  I know what I want.  My love is just a strong, and I want every day to show him that by making has life better in any way I possibly can.  Always.  And the rest of the crap just flies away because that becomes the number one goal and focus of my life in that moment.  To give that to him and to be as alive to what he gives me as I can be.  I wish for the simple things have as well, like being able to lay down beside him whenever I want, not necessarily even for anything other than not being kept apart by bits of metal.  Or being able to travel with him anywhere.  But I know that will come someday, and although that's important, the really important stuff is already here.

That's what I need to remember when I feel like I have not come very far in the seven months past.  I know this from my head, but sometimes it gets waylaid on the way to my heart.  I have learned a lot, grown amazingly, and changed everything about my life that could possibly be changed.  In an amazingly short period of time.  When I look at it that way, of course I'm going to be a little dizzy still.

I just have to keep breathing and keep looking for the rainbows in the water fountains.  Hopefully, this long and meandering blog has helped you think about doing the same.

For the alliance!...er, I mean, to the journey!  :-).

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