I think I understand now why people commit suicide over financial issues.
No, I don’t have any ideas along that line, but after being hounded for money so much recently—and knowing that we will NEVER escape this mountain of debt—I am in complete sympathy with those who feel that only death will solve their problems. Today, one bill collector called my workplace and told the dude who answered the phone it was about a potential garnishment. Can you believe that shit?!?
I may be massively in debt thanks to medical and other bills, but that doesn’t give a collection agency the right to disclose that information to ANYONE, let alone a representative of my employer. To say that I protested this vigorously would be the understatement of the week……I spoke with the caller’s supervisor and for once was glad all calls are monitored and recorded. I didn’t use a single swear word, nor did I even raise my voice (thank you, Zyprexa), but I did let the man know in no uncertain terms that I was furious and would be making a complaint about that agency to the proper authorities.
Besides, I can’t commit to anything right now because I honestly don’t know how much longer I’m going to be at this job. Try as I might, I can NOT put it all together…..I’m doing better with what little of the computer software I’ve been taught and only need minor cueing, but I’m having a hell of a time running up and down the halls (curse this fucking toe!!) and then trying to remember to make detailed observations of the nursing home residents and their surroundings.
Now when I was a working nurse, I could do a hundred assessments just by looking, listening, and talking with someone for five minutes. But I’m so nervous, and so awkward with the laptop (‘scuse, me, “tablet” as they like to call it—it certainly is as heavy as a laptop) that you could belt me upside the head with a MacBook and it wouldn’t change the deer-in-the-headlights look on my face. I know. I’ve seen myself in the mirror a couple of times.
So after an exhausting day of trying futilely to keep up with my trainer and feeling like a complete doofus, I got caught in a squall crossing the parking lot to my car, and nearly drowned before I could even unlock the door. The wind was blowing so hard that the rain was literally coming in sideways, and not only did I get drenched but so did the inside of my car, which had the effect of instantaneously fogging up the windows. I drove home wet, cold, discouraged, and fuming.
But ever the optimist, I have to say that I’m a lot better than I was a week or so ago, when I was ready to pack up and flee the country. I’ve been on the Zyprexa for eight days now and it’s had the desired effects. I STILL don’t like feeling so flattened, but flattened means I’m also not a) having suicidal ideation over the sad state of my financial affairs; b) in a blind rage over the collection agency’s misconduct; and c) giving up on myself just because this job makes me feel utterly incompetent.
Whatever happens from here on out, I’ll never regret having tried it. It takes a lot of good stuff to be hired by a government agency for something like this, so I really can never again put myself down as a loser. I just don’t happen to be suited for the position, nor is it suited to someone with the kind of physical and psychological baggage I carry around.
That’s what my mind says. I just wish somebody could explain it to my creditors!