Speak the truth

Posted on by

6

I’ve decided that I’m finally going to do it. By making this promise on here to you, dear readers, that means that I must follow through.

I am going to file my complaint.

Months ago I attempted to go back my previous field. I was at the job for less than three weeks. I feel compelled to point out that I left of my own accord. I don’t want to get into specifics, but my supervisor was discriminatory about my PTSD.

I was able to go back to my previous position, but I think the whole experience set me back in a number of ways.

Friends were divided as to whether or not I should file a discriminatory complaint. I’ve been torn as well. I let it sit for three months, and I’ve found that I still want to file the complaint. So I shall do so.

Honestly, it’s probably likely I won’t prevail. Not because the allegations aren’t true, there’s just not a whole lot of proof. That’s one reason I was hesitant.

But I decided that even if I don’t prevail people who discriminate need to be called out on it. She will, at the very least, have to respond to my complaint. Even that very act could go towards planting a seed in her brain that her behavior towards me was unacceptable, unlawful and discriminatory. Even if I don’t “win” in the traditional sense I might “win” by getting some people to give better thought to their actions.

We shall see.

Sometimes you just have to ask

Posted on by

8

Christmas in the post-War United States

I’m going to see my sister Cate for Christmas this year! I’ve been singing Christmas carols since yesterday when Cate and I first started talking about it. I think that somewhere in the back of my mind I convinced myself that I was not entitled to have a nice Christmas with family. I never asked her if I could visit for Christmas. I believe I presumed that she was not interested.

It seems like I just eliminated holiday happiness from my list of life possibilities. This year I said to myself, “Why? Why have I decided that the holidays have to be lonely for me? Why do I choose to be alone?” I did not have a satisfactory answer.

I made all these assumptions without even investigating them. The irony is that I was an investigator for a number of years, and I was a good investigator. Perhaps I was only good because I wasn’t investigating myself!

Last Christmas was pretty good, but I was at the residential program at McLean Hospital. I told my sister that I think we can easily top last year’s Christmas since I was at a psychiatric hospital. I think the bar is low. She laughed. I love making her laugh. She’s always been wiser than me, even though I’m older. But, I can make her laugh. She’s a laser-focused type-A personality, and it always feels great to make Ms. Serious laugh.

I just took a chance, and asked her if I could come for Christmas. She not only said yes, but she offered and used frequent flyer miles to get me an airline ticket. I almost cried. I’m turning 40 next month, but I think my birthday present came early this year.

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The high shelf

Posted on by

8

English: shelf Ελληνικά: ράφι

High shelves are handy for placing things that should not be misplaced, but also need to be out of mind until you can pay them attention.

Yesterday’s heavy post came out of my session with Doc. Though I have not changed the fundamental thoughts I conveyed yesterday, I do feel better today.

I am exhausted though, as I was not able to fall asleep last night until well after 2 a.m. After I wrote that post I started having a quick succession of thoughts of all the reasons God should not care for me. Not a good way to try to go to sleep.

To top things off, I received an email last night from a friend (supposedly a friend … ) suggesting that I should not be a writer because it’s a lonely life, I am too sensitive, etc. I don’t remember the specifics of the rest, just that he gave a litany of reasons as why I should not write.

Today I’ve set all of that aside, my thoughts about God’s view of me, and my friend’s opinion of me continuing to write. It’s all on a high shelf, and I’ll deal with it later. Today I need to rest, and get ready for more therapy tomorrow. Oh, yeah, and I have a stupid day job for which I have a deadline on a big project project on Friday. So all the emotional crap gets shelved until the weekend.

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)