part a

so. big announcement: i am changing jobs soon. like, very soon. like, monday.

this has been a while coming; i’ve been scouting on the dl for several months now. there are a myriad of reasons for this change that are all separate but all the same.

when people ask me why i’m doing this, i’ll say the polite, politically correct, short form answer: i need health insurance. part time work doesn’t provide medical insurance, retirement, paid holidays, pto...you get the idea. i’ve been working 50 hour weeks from 7-5 M-F but can’t afford to buy insurance off the exchange but i make too much money to qualify for state health insurance.

i made the change to get health insurance. it’s polite. it’s simple. it’s true.

it’s a comfortable, socially acceptable, easy answer.

i worry so much about not making other people uncomfortable. i worry about not being “that person” at events. i don’t want to be the debbie downer. i spend so much time thinking of the simplest, best way to say things so i’m not a burden to other people. maybe a little bit of truth mixed with plenty of jokes and some self deprecating jokes. i try so hard to minimize everything. make it palatable small little perfectly proportioned doses of “my crazy.” 

that’s literally what i call it. “my crazy.”

the real reason, the fraught with terror, over-analyzed decision and thought behind this change, all the circumstances that piled up to this...they’re ugly. they’re messy. they’re complicated. it’s all the worst stuff. no one wants to hear that. no one wants to hear my sob story. everyone has their own shit. this is mine. i just need to learn how to deal with it better. suck it up buttercup. it’s bootstrap pulling time. don’t you dare burden other people with this. they all have enough going on. 

these are the things i say to myself. and i do. i keep it to myself. i have maybe 3 people that know what’s been behind this. like, REALLY behind this. 

and this is such a hard thing to say, but someone has to start saying it because i don’t think i’m alone in this and that’s heartbreaking if other people feel this way.

here we go.

i have pervasive suicidal thoughts.

i'm changing jobs because i need medical insurance. i need to be able to get back into therapy. i need mental health care.

like, I NEED mental health care.

i’ve been struggling with pervasive, intense, can’t shake it suicidal thoughts for a year now.

chronic pervasive suicidal idealization. 

up until may i had state insurance and was seeing a great therapist weekly.

in may, my financial review came up and since the last renewal a year ago i’ve had a MAJOR change in household. when my teenager lived at home we both qualified for state provided health insurance. when my household changed, it disqualified me for coverage. that meant no more therapy. which i need to deal with the whole reason there was a change in household. that’s a fun little infinity loop.

since may i’ve really struggled with a growing pile of things i need help sorting through. my over thinking, self hating brain has just been spiraling. the CPS reports i had requested from my case back in december finally arrived. it’s pretty hard to read the interviews and reports and the things my own kid said against me. i’ve really been struggling with why my own kid would say such blatantly false things about me. blatantly. false. told them i had multiple pimps. told them i’m an iv drug user. told them i abuse him daily and put out cigarettes on his arms.

none of those things are even in the smallest portion even a tiny bit of truth.

the report goes on for several pages and there’s some really ugly things. and people signed off on this. the grandparent he’s staying with signed off on these reports. and do people really believe this about me? they signed the papers. that means they didn’t DISAGREE.  he’s telling all these people just horrible made up things. how can my own child hate me that much? how can my own kid want to hurt me that much?

man. that gets into some pretty. ugly. corners.

i’ve also been struggling with just- existing. when you live alone there’s a LOT of quiet time. that’s a lot of thinking time. that’s a lot of time to finally process YEARS of trauma. that’s a lot of nights realizing how you respond to things, decisions you make, roadblocks in relationships...all the things. all the parts in life that have been hit by the ripple effects of years of stuffing trauma away. of just getting through it. just keep going. don’t think about it, just get up and go to work. take the kids to sports. do the school meetings. get the groceries. keep things working.

and then when you stop and all those ripples catch up it quickly turns into a tidal wave.

things have been rough at work too. one of my bosses and i have VERY different viewpoints on life. it’s challenging to work for someone who is staunchly opposed to all the basic parts of my life: LGBT is a lifestyle choice (and a wrong one). women’s rights are just an attack on men. vaccinations, religion...we’ve had some interesting discussion.

and don’t get me wrong, it’s not an openly hostile environment. it’s not in my face very day. and i know, work is like family thanksgiving dinner: never discuss politics, religion or relationships. but that’s where i spend 80% of my life. those are almost exclusively the only people i talk to, ever. and people need connections, conversations. 15 minutes chatting with a coworker so i’m not completely isolated all day every day is necessary. but sometimes you learn things about people you can’t unlearn.

i’ve also realized in the last few months just how bad my anxiety is and how far back it goes. i don’t think many kids lay awake at 8 years old counting to sixty over and over and over again while staring at smoke detectors to make sure the damn thing blinks and is working WHILE simultaneously planning 2 different escape routes. i don’t think most people spend HOURS, DAYS, YEARS going over every interaction with friends and strangers trying to suss out all the wrong things said, all the ways i potentially offended them, all the “weird” things i said that will make them never talk to me again. added bonus: the whole ghosting trend in dating has really not done me any favors.

it’s been a lot. and somewhere, in the back of my head this whole time, the WHOLE. TIME. is the though: maybe you just shouldn’t exist anymore. look at all the bullshit surrounding you. think how much better things would be for everyone else if they didn’t have to listen to your bullshit. omg. you’re such an energy drain. don’t you dare talk to anyone. they don’t need to worry about your dumb ass. don’t say anything to panic anyone. just figure out a way to not exist. i have notes saved in my phone like this:

“wouldn’t it be ironic if the loneliness from cutting all the abusive people out of my life is what ends up killing me.”

i slowly and repeatedly sift through all the ways i couldn’t off myself: i could never leave a mess for some poor unsuspecting person to clean up after anything involving a gun. besides i hate guns. i couldn’t take pills. some poor first responder would have to deal with that. i can’t do anything that some unsuspecting person would have to encounter.

then it shifts a little- whatever i do needs a body for verification so my life insurance will pay out. i have friends listed as beneficiaries that could really use the money...as much as they would be mad at me, i have a decent policy that could really change some lives.

but yeah, i think about death on the daily. 

i’m not so much thinking about a way to die as much as just not being particularly attached to staying alive. 

it’s exhausting. it really is.

but i’m working on it. i’m changing jobs. the environment will be better, i’ll have benefits, and i’ll be able to walk to work. that’s a pretty good hat trick of mental health and self care.