Can I, can't I?

CAN I, CAN'T I?

I've been searching the internet to see if there are any nurses/caregivers with mental health issues. I was relieved to find out that indeed, there are. Obviously, it requires a lot of work and support and maybe ain't doable for me personally, but we'll see about that. At least it isn't completely off the table.

And I can picture that for myself, I guess. With good counseling. And/or medication. That someday. Maybe. I'll get there.

But right now? I am conflicted. I think I should leave this job. Get better, I don't know, somehow. Get diagnosed, treated, counseled. Then, maybe, see if I can make it.

And sometimes I think I should just leave social services for good. Or any other job with responsibility for vulnerable life.

I am holding this question for the time being, sitting with it. Can I work as a caregiver, can't I?

Whatever answer I'm gonna get to, I know now something that weren't true yesterday: that IT WILL BE ALRIGHT. As long as I have insight. And support.

I know that if I end up a helping professional, I will always have to be very careful and constantly work to maintain "sanity". And I am okay with that.
And if I end up realizing that's more than I am capable of, I can picture myself doing any other kind of job, being a translator could be great perhaps, but really, whatever would be adequate to my capabilities.
I can totally see myself as a janitor or factory worker, and happy. I know that it will be alright either way. I just need to be aware of my issues and capabilities and work, be humble, be disciplined, and move, with appropriate support, towards the right decisions for me.


Also, the things I yelled at myself last night, that I was a vulture attracted to disability in order to maintain the lie that she was fine, that I was prejudiced against people with mental health problems and dehumanized these people? I am not taking those back, just putting a question mark there. Not trying to exculpate myself, really, just ready to, with brutal honesty but without self-flagellation, search my soul.


Light at the end of the tunnel already?

So, all in all, maybe it's just me trying to see some kind of a light at the end of the tunnel, quick, but I do think that I am getting a bit better.
Before? When I was unwell? I used to survive on Courtney Love.



These days it's Ingrid Michaelson.



To me, it's a good change. Yes, I am all over the place, detached, out of control and drowning in emotion. But still, weirdly, okay, somehow.

Well, apparently, my symptoms are definitely no better. They are worse, if anything.
 But I have a different attitude. I can't actually come up with a worst-case scenario that I am not okay with. I can picture myself living alone for the rest of my life, going to counseling, perhaps hospitalized a couple times, perhaps medicated, hopefully holding down a job of some kind, or not. None of that seems awful, anymore.

Yesterday I wrote about my "greatest fear" all my life has been "going crazy". The image of myself, wild, checked-out, both dangerous and vulnerable, people staring, completely unaware and unable to control myself.

Today, it's different, the image is different. Having mental health issues is just having mental health issues now. Nothing horrifying about it. Challenging but manageable. I think what I was REALLY so terrified of was the thing that I was but couldn't see - destructive/dangerous or at least weird/embarrassing, without realizing that.

I gained insight into my condition lately. That's a huge thing. I am surprised about what a relief it is. Just yesterday, it was so fucking heavy, I fought not to realize, not to see. But now, I am okay. I will work on this. I am glad for being able to realize it, even though I can't do/don't know how to do anything much about it yet.

I'm going to be fine. Even if I am going to be, you know, NOT fine. I know that deep down, I will always stay me, and stay positive.



***

Also, let me tell you how today went. I've never felt as embarrassed as these past couple of days before (and trust me, I know embarrased). I am so unbelievably awkward. Just utterly unpredictable. I don't do dangerous things, or rude, nothing like that. I just say some super-weird stuff. I have extreme derealization, it's like floating somewhere, not really in charge. Like I am just witnessing my own actions, no, that's not accurate, like I am just observing my own thoughts, or, like, like I was thinking, acting, through a thick layer of something. All seems blurred and unimportant.