wannabes

in the last few days i have been dealing with an incompetent, unprofessional wannabe social worker that works in the house i live in. she has the knack of taking Personal Calls during her shift & will often dismiss you as she reaches into her bra to take it. Gross. the whole situation was quite petty for starters as it dealt with my chore, completed which i was accused of Not doing by one of the Many Bullies we have in the house. she called me a Liar, got verbally abusive & then proceeded to act like she did Nothing to provoke me. the staff member that was working that night in the house Claimed that she didn’t Feel Safe, please what an Excuse–can i get that with a side of BS. it’s is staffs job in the house to Intervene that is WHY we have them-however useless they are most of the time.

back to the wannabe social workers, in the house i live with that houses 30 women we only have 2 Actual Social Workers that are there & they are there only during the day. the rest are wannabes with cell phones in their bra, or maybe they bring their own issues to work, common with the staff we have. not to mention we have a director that doesn’t allow you to discuss your feelings with her, because as she chimed in the other day she is not a Therapist. guess, i need another side of BS with ketchup for that one.

it has been a hard year, no Make that a difficult year-the staff is Useless most of the time & we only have 2 actual social workers. don’t have any Issues @ night & the word around the house is that there is staff you just don’t go to with your issues as they do next to nothing to help you solve them. i guess that is the Blessing in disguise is that there are other women in the house, who will usually set a situation straight when it comes to the Reality of the staff & other women in the house. we are all in the same boat wondering where we will end up after we leave. it makes living there slightly better than other places as there are other women we can turn to.

the last year plus have been one of the hardest in my life, being on the street was hard-but being in transitional housing is just as difficult or maybe the correct word is hard. being in the house is a daily rollercoaster where anything can happen. dealing with staff that is Under trained& to be honest are pretend social workers is even worse. i call them wannabes-because that is what they are. making me grateful that within all the chaos i face everyday i have a cell phone& i have a lifeline that doesn’t involve having to deal with supposed staff that grabs their cell phones out of their bra.

what a hard day feels like

since i have begun writing about my schizophrenia & what my daily battles are has given me clarity. i have less than 6 months in the program i am in & have begun to get worried about housing & not ending up back on the street. however, i am doing everything i can to get housing; making a small dent in my life even though it doesn’t feel like i am. finding out that i have two more years to wait for housing is sad; it’s an uphill battle-but i am taking steps everyday. since i am keeping my focus i Hope that something will come through for me.

what does having a hard day mean to someone with my mental illness, misreading cues from other people, misjudging what someone said as literal when it was meant as something different. having irrational thoughts that often don’t make any sense or over thinking something basic that has nothing to do with what actually happened. for me everyday i have to figure out small situations & hope that i made the right decision with what i thought. other times it’s becoming angry & not understanding Why i am. small cues can throw me off guard & i start misinterpreting what is said over what is actually meant.  on hard days i misread cues, when i was with my boyfriend i would misread his behavior because of what it looked like inside my head.

hard days makes me grateful for easy once, that aren’t as bad-& that don’t stress me out, as my anxiety feels worse when i have one. it’s the same as the housing topic i mentioned earlier, i am the only one in control of my future & i am beginning to realize how Real it can become if i don’t get myself into housing or into another transitional housing program. i am The Only one that can change my Future. that scares me in ways i can’t describe that i have to take Real Charge of my own destiny. i hope that with my new case manager i can figure something out before my time expires where i am. i have always Luck-something i Hope i won’t run out of this year.

Oldghosts

since, my decision last week i have decided to visit the places i spiraled in last summer, one place @ time. it’s not so much a test but for me to realize how Far i have come in the last 6 months on my own. since i am still juggling the housing situation i decided to face it head on and dive into the places that i know are taking applications. i have to start somewhere. today, i jumped off the bus a several stops early & surprised the driver, i sang to my zune without caring what people around me thought.

sitting in cafe i couldn’t enter last summer because i had invented a story that wasn’t based on fact in my head, my illness does that when i become very sick. hence, being here & being present in the Moment is a Huge step forward. it’s just a cafe that i loved going to last summer when i was homeless after leaving my apartment but by the time summer rolled around i had invented stories in my head about what was going on. none of them rational. i am still homeless& being in the cafe is surreal. it makes me sad to think that i still am.

it’s like sitting down with an old ghost, my last relationship was an old ghost & all the past things he had done didn’t go Away; instead they made me Fear his trust & what his true intentions where. then his eyes began to roam; my stress kicked in checking out other women & blaming my mental illness for what he was doing. i may have a tough time distinguishing between reality & non-reality but i know when i am being taken for Granted. the situation was making me sick physically. in the beginning (we) both thought it was food poisoning—now, i know it was his behavior that was effecting me.

it’s a year later, & i am still facing my past-maybe with a brighter tint, but it’s still my past. i found the movie he bought for me on Valentine’sday, eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, a movie he said reminded him of me. maybe i was too harsh, maybe i am. but i realize through all my brain fog that i am the only one that is going to figure out what the next step is in my life. The only one. IF love comes along i may keep it on the side because @ the moment i need to make it through this summer on my own.