We got our HVAC system signed off by one of the companies here in Nashville. It was funny, they came out. They told my husband we really needed to change out the gas valve. My husband told him we’d already done that. So he told my husband we had to change out the pressure valve. Done that too. And the circuit board. Yup done that. He looks at my husband, well how much did you pay for the circuit board. Oh, about $90. Apparently the company charges $600 for that circuit board. For a $90 part (that they can probably get cheaper) and for about 15 minutes worth of time (and a little time to get there and back). That’s $500 in labor alone. For at most, let’s say communte time, diagnosis time about three hours worth of work. That’s nearly $170/hr. That’s more than my engineering boss would charge for my services as an engineer by nearly double. So I go get my MS in engineering, get my license, and an HVAC tech is worth more than me per hour. I think I went in to the wrong field.
It’s frustrating. Seems like everyone does that. For a somewhat skilled laborer, they get tons of money per hour. I work my butt off to go through engineering school and get my license (which takes passing two fairly hard tests, by the way) and someone with a tech degree doubles my pay rate. I must be doing something wrong.
But, I guess, at least we passed. The guy signed off. We paid him $200 for 30 minutes worth of work and no parts used. Looked it over. Yup, everything is running correctly. Yup, we know. We just need someone with a tech degree in something we have a MS degree in to tell us what we already know. Thank you… good-bye.
The cabinets have been installed! It took the installer four days and lots of grumbles but they are through! We had issues with him, like he didn’t even show up with plans of what everything was supposed to look like. We had to give him overall floor plans of the kitchen telling what cabinet goes where and then a brochure on the types of stacked molding for the molding on top of our cabinetry. Whenever we told him to do something, he did it his way. One of our cabinets was supposed to be recessed in the wall, but he made it even with the other cabinets. Likely, because it made putting on the crown way easier. One of our cabinets was also supposed to be moved over an inch to allow more room for a vent. But, of course he didn’t do that, so now the shoe molding butts up against the vent cover. When we asked him to drill holes in certain places, he didn’t do that right. We ended up having electrical in our cabinets running through the toe kick instead of straight up through the cabinet. The guy didn’t get there until 10-1 every day, and then complained that he had to come out there for a fourth day. He would call us up at 10:20 in the morning, tell us he is 40 minutes away and then show up at 1. So, we are glad that is through with, and won’t be going back there for cabinetry when we put in cabinets in our office.
The granite guy came out yesterday to do the templating for the granite. We go out on Thursday to pick out our granite slab and then they have 21 days from that day to install it. Hopefully it will be sooner. We have a few more things to do before we are ready for the countertops like put bead board in one of the cabinets, do some electrical work, drill some holes through one of the cabinets for the dishwasher connections. But then we get our countertops. That will be awesome to have a sink back functioning; and a cooktop. I’m excited.
So I survived my birthday, even though I didn’t really want to. And most of the time I perk up after my birthday, well not this year. I’m no more happier to be alive today than I was yesterday or November 9th. I don’t have any faith that things will get better. And I no longer really give a damn whether or not my death occurs on my birthday or some other random day. I wish there was something someone could say to me to make me snap out of whatever is bothering me. I just haven’t found it yet. I sit here alone and think would someone really care whether or not I make it to tomorrow? Why is suicide so bad? I mean it is my life right? I know what I do effects others, but who said I wanted to be brought in to this world anyway? I look at all those who are happy to be here and wonder why I’m not. What is it that they understand that I don’t? I just don’t get why everyone is so happy to be alive. What’s so great about this? About not wanting to wake up every morning? What’s so great? Is it great that I feel like shit everyday? I just don’t know anymore. I have too much on my mind between the house, and my sister, and now my mom. I feel overwhelmed. If I killed myself than no one would have to worry about me anymore, not like they were worrying before, but you get the picture. Life would go on without me, much as it did when I was here. And I would be at peace. So why is this such a bad thing? Why is finally putting the pain behind me a bad thing for me to want? I know people will say I don’t have to die to have the pain go away, but seriously I’ve tried it all before. I’ve tried putting the past behind me. I’ve tried the medicines. I’ve tried getting better. For some reason, I’m just stupid at that. And so, I go on, wishing, hoping, begging to die. But continuing on.
The short story: So this is what working at the state will get you. Fired. If your boss doesn’t like you, you don’t have much of a chance. If you did your job and told on your boss (then your coworker) then you get fired. And there’s not a danged thing HR will do to help you. You work your ass off; while your coworker (now boss) goofs off. He gets promoted, you lose your job. And HR claims they can’t help you because you aren’t protected under civil service. So it’s ok for HR to break the law within the first six months of your employment, just not at any point thereafter.
The long drawn out story (well) not so long or drawn out, just wanted to call it that): My mom used to work at a treatment facility for youth. Baby prison for youngsters. You know the ones that beat the crap out of white folk because they are white, and see no issue with that. Or the ones that steal stuff. Or the ones that try to kill others. You know just the ordinary, not so bad things. It was going to be closed, because, well it housed around 20-35 girls and cost tons to keep open. They had sent everyone home with pink slips and then found out that the facility was going to stay open after all. So they did a mass hiring. One position they never could get any one qualified in to was that of principal. My mom worked with about four other teachers there. One of them had been “let go” of three other school systems. So of course he was able to get a job at this treatment center for impressionable young folk quite easy. We are in TN of course. He was forever getting in to trouble. Seems he liked to bribe the young folk into liking him with things like candy (contraband – a big no-no), Facebook time, etc. My mom reported him a few times for the candy and for the Facebook time (did I mention he was in his room alone with these two girls that were supposed to be in her room?). He seemed to be in more trouble than the kids were.
Well guess, what, here in TN not only do we hire folks that have been let go in three other jobs into a position at a treatment facility for youth, but by God, we promote their butts. So he was promoted to head teacher since they couldn’t get a principal out there. His first order of business: fire the folks who actually thought he was supposed to do his job. Because, here in TN we only know how to promote those who don’t do their job. So within the first week he had fired my mom (apparently people can get paperwork processed pretty quickly here at the state after all). He also moved around (and fired) security guards who wanted him to do his job correctly. So at least she wasn’t alone. There should be a support group for those who have been slighted by the grand headmaster at that treatment facility.
You want to know what really irks me? These kids are at the facility because they have no concept of right and wrong. It’s the step before big kid’s prison. They are impressionable. And we pay good tax money to keep a facility that is supposed to teach them right from wrong open. We trust the state to actually hire competent people into positions. We trust them to do the right thing. We trust too blindly. The people who fought to keep it open don’t give a rat’s behind about the progress of it. Now that we are spending tons of money to keep it going when the economy is bad and the money is needed more in other places, we’re just going to let the place to go to heck. Because state workers can’t and won’t do anything like work.
So now the kids are going to think that it’s ok to go to someplace just as good as home and hang out. I mean with all the perks, what’s the point in being good? What’s the point in working your fingers to the bone when the rewards for not doing anything or being a heathen are better? That’s something we got to face as a society. The times when people are entitled to this or that have to come to an end. People need to start working hard – everyone. No more claiming complete disability for a bum knee but go out running every morning. No more having 3 kids by the time you are 14 just to get the welfare money so you can feed your drug addiction. I looked at my husband the other day and was like why are we working our butts in to the ground when so many people who do so much less than us are getting money from the government to do nothing? No not everyone on welfare or whatever are out to the cheat the system. Some on disability really do need it. It seems though that the folks that really do need it are not getting what they need whereas the folks who don’t need it are getting plenty.
So the moral of today’s story: working your butt off pays none.
I seem to have writer’s block. I don’t see how talking (or writing) about what’s going on will help. It hasn’t helped in the past, and I have little hope that it will help now. Besides everything that I have that I need to say, I’ve already said, and I’m sure people are tired of reading the same thing over and over again. I’ll try for today, but I’m not promising how much I will write in the future.
So another depressing day at work. Another day I wonder why I live. I keep thinking that there must be a medicine out there somewhere that will help me, something that will give me some relief. But, then I remember that looking for something that works and helps is worse than the actual depression itself. Even if the medicine doesn’t have any side effects, just knowing another medicine has been marked off the list makes me more depressed. It’s one more thing that won’t be able to help me. Knowing that the list of things that would help has gotten one less shorter makes it harder to cope with this. Doesn’t that sound messed up?
I bought life insurance yesterday. It’s not supposed to start until June I think. And then once it starts, it will take two years of paying in to it before it covers suicide. So I just have to endure for two more years, right? Well two years and a couple of months.
I have enough coverage that by that time, my husband will be able to pay off most of the house along with my funeral. Not all of the house, but most of it. It seems that my life will be worth more by dying in two years. He’ll be able to find someone else to be with. He’s a great guy; he deserves someone better than me.
I start a new antidepressant on Sunday. I’m going to give this six weeks to work, if it doesn’t, then I’m not going back to the psychiatrist. This will be my 14th try at an antidepressant. I’m still trying to figure out if I should go back to my counselor. Honestly, nothing works anymore. And I’m tired of trying to find something that will. I don’t know what else to do, who else to turn to. I have no friends, no one outside of my internet world. And I’m starting to get to the point I just want to block those people out too. I guess I’m alone because I want to be alone. Because I can’t handle people anymore. Tears run so freely, and my thoughts are all jumbled. I’m scared but in a way I’m at peace. Trying to convey these feelings to someone else is really hard. Trying to deal with pain I can’t describe or justify is hard.
My next question is who do I write good bye to when I don’t think anyone will care about my death? Just the thought that no one would care is depressing. I don’t know why the thought is so depressing to me. I’ve lived this way for so much of my life. I’m used to not being cared about, but yet the thought is still hard to deal with.
I’m tired of crying. Tired of wondering when life is going to get better. Just tired of everything, of everybody, and yes, of living.
So, if you haven’t figure it out already, I’m changing jobs… again. It feels like I just went through this, as it hasn’t been so long since I just started working here, a little over a year and a half ago. But things here are rigid. The number of days off sucks, the pay sucks, and the non-flexible work hours suck. Plus I don’t get those expected things like direct deposit. AND they charge overhead on my using my own car for travel. So, they charge the client one rate, and pay me less. Now I don’t mind the low mileage rate, I do mind that they take a cut out of what they are charging. So if someone travels 5000 miles in a year, it’s not going to amount to much for the company to give them all that money. But imagine what it would do for morale. Plus communication sucks here. My boss is gone on vacation today and Monday and I found this out from her at 4:55 pm yesterday. And this happens often enough to be annoying. Not always on vacation, but sometimes field visits or what not, but I never know until about 9 or 10 when I go looking for her (she’s rarely here at 8). I work overtime, but I don’t get paid for it, no bonuses, no thank you for staying up until 10 pm to get this done. Sometimes she’ll let me know that day that I have to work late. Once she told me at 4:30 on Friday I had to stay and finish one of her projects cause it had to go out that day. She on the other hand had to leave early. This happens enough to be annoying too. How come people can’t just tell me the deadline before an hour before it’s due, especially when they’ve known this for a week or more? I get here at 7 and have to stay until 5 pm because the management won’t let us work a flexible schedule. I mean really, why can’t I work 7-4, my boss works 9-5. I bring my laptop to work because the computer I’m given is too slow to do the work I need it to do.
I’m taking a paycut to leave this place. That in itself irks me. I know the benefits will be better at the new job, but most of them are benefits I had at my last job, previous to this, working at a consultant. I knew all this coming in to this job. Or at least most of it. I was warned by friends of previous workers not to come here. I didn’t listen; all I have to blame is myself. However, the big reason I’m leaving goes beyond any of what I mentioned above, most of which I could live with. So I wanted to get out, and get out relatively fast. And took the first thing that came along.
So, day 1 of Celexa/Deplin mix: I am in a complete fog and have a headache.
Day 1 after the Celexa/Deplin mix: The foggy like feeling has gone away, well sort of. The headache, unfortunately, is still there. I’m exhausted too. I went to bed with the headache last night; and woke up with one. I can’t ever remember doing that in my entire life.
I will try again tomorrow night. I think. I want what I did take out of my system so I can ascertain whether the headache was caused by the medicine or change in weather. I’m leaning towards medicinal caused though; it’s just too coincidental. It also occurred to me that I will be still trying this medicine while on vacation. Won’t it be fun to drive 3,000 miles while my head is in a fog? Should be even more interesting as we are planning on going north on vacation. Snow + foggy brain = fun times, no?
Or I guess I could just reschedule my appointment for after I come back from vacation, and just start the medince then. Really, after 19 years of depression, what’s an extra month? Or I could just go back at my regularly scheduled time and just tell her that Celexa sucked and Deplin is as expensive as hell. Or I could just not go back. Every time I start on a new medicine, I suddenly remember the reason why I hate medicines. Side effects that I hate. Or if no side effects, then knowing that what ever I’m taking has absolutely positively no friggin effect on me kind of gets me down. Well, lots more than kind of.
I have a big deadline tomorrow. I haven’t eaten lunch beyond a couple of cookies in the last two days. You would think I would be losing weight, right? Nope, all I’m doing is getting used to not eating. Somehow the familarility of not eating is um, comforting. How sick and twisted is that? Though that hamburger and fries do sound good right now. So, great I now am starting to lose my appetite.
Oh yeah, and the depression: it’s still there. The only good thing about the Celexa was instead of focusing on how depressed I am, I focus on how much pain I’m in AND how depressed I am. Sort of like that old trick that my dad used to play. Oh, you skinned your knee, here let me punch you to take your mind off the skinned knee. Didn’t work then; doesn’t work now.
So, I have a question, why do doctors in general want to reinvent the wheel? Why is it I can’t go in a doctor’s office and tell them I’ve had a test done, and they believe me with the results? Why do I have to go and have it redone, me and my insurance company paying the bill? Hmmm… and people wonder why medical costs and insurance costs are high. When I have to have a test redone each time I start a new doctor just because with no other reason than that, it starts to get danged annoying.
Why should I trust doctors if they won’t trust me? Everytime I trust them, I get hurt. I put my heart in to it, just to be hurt. For once someone else has to go out on a limb for me first. Someone has to prove to me that there is a reason for me to trust them before I will trust them.
And then again, maybe I should just start lying and say I’ve never seen anyone before about the depression besides my current counselor. If I do that, then at least I’ll be taken more seriously. Nope, I have no problems with any of my previous doctors, because after paying all this money for services, I don’t actually ask anything of the doctor. Maybe it would be just better if I never inquired about test results (it’s not like anyone would call me up if something was wrong anyways, so what’s the point in taking the time to keep badgering them about it). After all, I want to die anyways, why keep making sure I’m healthy? Why take an active role in my care, when it’s held against me when I do?
I don’t know why I feel so bad all the time. I was asked that last night. Apparently I’m supposed to be an intelligent young lady, and therefore know this answer. So, therefore I should know why I can go from deeply depressed but stable to not stable in a matter of milliseconds. I guess I should get used to being dumb. I think I’m comfortable with that.
I guess if nothing else, this whole thing has allowed me to be a bit more open with my husband, even just a teeny bit. It’s still hard to tell him some things. How do I admit to someone that I believe genuinely loves and cares about me that I want to die? How do I admit that I’m that selfish, that horrible of a person? How do I tell him about the self-injuring? How I don’t remember a lot of what leads up to being upset?
Underneath the smiles and strongness, the craziness of the thoughts inside…
A coworker brought in a little magnet thing that is a quote from Winston Churchill “If you’re going through hell, keep going” Question: what if hell is infinite? If it is, that just means no matter how much I walk, how much I run, how much I keep going, I’m always going to be there. At least that’s how I feel. Always. I have no hope of ever getting out of hell. Of anything ever working out for me.
Sometimes I wonder if I did something bad that God feels the need to punish me for. I just wish I knew what it was, so I could apologize and I maybe then I won’t be punished anymore.
So, another teary day. It’s hard to wipe the tears and keep going knowing how much everything is breaking inside. It’s like nothing fits together anymore, and I can’t keep this up. I have to be a strong person at work. A strong person at home. But all I feel like doing is sleeping and crying. I don’t want to be a burden to anyone. I know people get tired of talking to me about the depression. Of thinking I’m just a stupid person because I don’t get what is apparently obvious to so many other people. But I can’t help it. I guess I am just dumb.
I’m starting with a new psychiatrist today. About the only reason I am going is because my counselor suggested it. I’ve thought about calling over and over again to cancel the appointment. Heck, I don’t even know why I made the appointment in the first place. Maybe it was more to prove the counselor wrong, that nothing is going to work anymore. I just don’t want to try anymore. I don’t want to have to take any medicine and think long enough whether or not I feel any minute difference. I want everything to end. I want the pain to stop. The thoughts to stop. Me to stop.
I’m sunk unless the pyschiatrist has good forms to fill out. If I have to tell my “story”… well, what is my story. I have a great home, great husband, job, and want to die. I’m selfish because I have a great life and I can’t be happy. Yes, I had a rough life growing up. Who didn’t. Everyone else is getting along okay. I mean what am I supposed to say when someone asks me what’s wrong? I want to die. Why? Hmmm… How the hell should I know. I cut. What triggers it? Well, if I could remember that, I would avoid the trigger, now wouldn’t I? It’s hard going through this life. And it shouldn’t be. I have just about everything I could ever want, well except for 20 million dollars or so.
So what the bloody hell am I missing?