Outpatient Therapy, Day 22

Yesterday was the first day that I have driven anywhere outside of my own neighbourhood area for a couple of weeks, since I sideswiped the 18-wheeler on the interstate. I have not had one of those dissociative episodes when driving in a while, so I thought I would take a chance yesterday and drive myself. The weather was just awful. It was pouring and visibility was cut to almost 500 yards/457 metres. I left an hour early just in case and was quite anxious about driving on the interstate the whole way, but I got there OK.

Had the weather been fine, having arrived so early, I could have sat outside and smoked until group started, but I was relegated to sitting in our room for a while before some of the others started to file in. I had my daily check in sheet already filled out since I do it from home before I get there (gives me more time to think and try to remember the details).

After the huge group split we started out “sharing” routine. I volunteered to go first as I had to leave early since I had an early appt with my GP yesterday as well. I had a good report to share and even had a smile on my face that everyone made a big deal about. Afterwards, the therapist commented that I was showing marked improvements exponentially. I think it has a lot to do with my psychiatrist putting me on the Lexapro a couple of weeks ago. I asked the therapist if she could mark some time for me after one of our sessions as I want to talk with her about my discharge from the program. While I have made huge strides over the last eight weeks (it was eight weeks ago today that I tried to commit suicide), I knew it was getting to the point that I could no longer afford to be in this program. Yes, my insurance is helping, but 10% of this, that, and the other adds up with all of the appts I have been having. I feel that my seeing my individual therapist now, along with my psychiatrist should be enough to continue with my recovery. I do not necessarily want to leave the group, but I have to make some decisions financially.

I cannot believe it has been eight weeks since I tried to commit suicide. The whole memory seems like such a hazy nightmare to me. On the one hand, I want to forget about everything. Yet, I have to remember it all to keep where I am at now in proper perspective. I have made some huge strides since then and I cannot forget this. So much has changed for me. There are more evenings than not where I can be in my house all alone at night and be safe. I am not sure what “normal” is supposed to feel like, but I do know that I am not as profoundly depressed as I have been. It seems that my bipolar is slowly being reigned in. The positive aspect is that I haven’t swung onto the manic side since starting the Lexapro, a valid concern my psychiatrist has as giving anti-depressants to bipolar patients in a profound depression can kick off a manic episode since the anti-depressant can kick you over to the other side. I have been carefully watching for that. I am getting more sleep now than I have been, and my talking does not seem to be any more excitable than normal. When I am manic, that is the first sign I can spot. I will get on the phone with someone and not shut up the entire time and I talk fast and excitedly. So far, I do not see any evidence to that.

Could it be that my bipolar is finally coming into balance? I am almost afraid to think that one aloud. Once my bipolar is in check, then I can start looking at my borderline personality disorder issues that, for obvious reasons, have been put on the back burner. I can continue that work with my psychiatrist and individual therapist, although I am not sure how to begin that whole scenario. There are some deep-seated issues that I have to work out, and this is going to take some time.

Meanwhile I am socialising more. My friend A called me as she was leaving work last night to check in with me and I asked her if she wanted to stop by my house on her way home. She enthusiastically said yes and I thoroughly enjoyed having her visit for almost 90 minutes. It is so nice to have people with whom I can talk about every day things. This is one area that I have seen positive changes in me. I am not isolating nearly as much. Right now, all my socialising is one-on-one; I have not tried to be in a group of people yet outside of my group therapy sessions, so I am not sure how I am going to handle that. I am going to try to start attending the NAMI meetings (National Alliance on Mental Illness) that take place Monday evenings right around the corner from my house. It is going to be similar to group with a different twist. According to the facilitator I spoke with the other day, there are only about 10-12 people that attend regularly and I will not have to say anything if I do not want to. I imagine I will just sit quietly for the first couple of meetings until I can get the lay of the land.

I am still on full-time short-term FMLA disability, but that runs out January 18th. Right now I am approved through December 16th, but I am now going to have my psychiatrist (instead of the group therapist) put in for the remainder of the time to see if they will approve the extension. My psychiatrist does not think I am ready to return to work anyway, and he wants me to start back only working half-days. I’m thinking, with the deadline coming up (yes, I could always convert to long-term disability, but that’s only at 70% of my pay which I cannot afford) I could put a return to work start date for the 4th of January to work half-days until the 18th. I personally think I need more time than that, but I am financially constrained. To tell you the truth, what I dearly wish I could afford is to go on full time SS disability, but I cannot afford what they would pay out, and Medicaid will not kick in until you’ve been on disability for one full year. I cannot afford to be without insurance. Sure, I could get COBRA from my employer, but since I cannot already afford what disability would pay, there is no way I could also afford the COBRA coverage. Caught between a rock and a hard place.©2009

Outpatient Therapy, Day 7, the Gift Bag at My Door, & My Attempt at “Radical Acceptance”

I do not have much to say about today’s session. The therapist is concerned that I am not eating except a small snack to take with my Geodon. She is also concerned about my insomnia. I did not have much to share. Not much had changed from Wednesday, but I was able to report that I was not having any suicidal ideation Thursday night. Very depressed, yes, but I was able to leave it at that. She pointedly asked me if I could remain safe through the weekend and I could only tell her that I have demonstrated successfully one tool, and that was all I could promise her. I also told her that my psychiatrist has requested me to call him for a check-in call on Saturday and Sunday. She seemed rather pleased with that.

In actuality, my blogging has actually helped me with the ideation Thursday night. I spent a good deal of time writing, reading others’ blogs, and keeping up with my LGBTQ-oriented Facebook account (OK, a translation for you straight folks: Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgendered, Queer/Questioning), along with my Twitter feeds.

Something weird happened at break. One of the folks in my small group came up to me and wanted to know why I ignored her after trying to say hi two times. I had to honestly tell her that I really had not noticed her (remember me; I am all about blinders around other people). She started crying and I did not what the hell to do as she did this in front of everyone. Then everyone stared at me. Well, I am sorry that I must have hurt her feelings (I can recognize that from classic BPD symptoms), but I am not responsible for her feelings, only my own. I felt, with everyone staring at me, that I at least had to apologize. I really didn’t want to have to interact with her at all, but what was I to do? It is not as if I go around intentionally trying to hurt someone, or be rude or uncaring. I just simply want to be left alone. Soon enough, break was over so I went inside where both groups join and found my seat on the far wall. I also asked the therapist if I could crack open the emergency door right beside me in case I had to leave the room (I do not want to make a spectacle of getting up and walking by everyone to leave through the normal door). She said that was fine (no alarm attached to the door)

I came home and found this gift bag by my front door inside my porch. Curiously, I picked it up and brought it inside. The attached note said, “For your walks around the neighbourhood…a few things I thought would come in handy.” It was signed from the only church member (outside of my pastor and his wife) that I had been relatively honest with about some things. Evidently she has been reading my blog and noticed my entries concerning with my dissociative states while walking or driving. Inside the bag was some pretty neat stuff. It contained an atlas with very detailed set of maps of my city along with a street index finder. I found my house (conveniently already marked with an icon as there is a large city fire department up at the corner. Nevertheless, I am going to put an X right where my house is anyway because with a past dissociation, the fire department’s presence did not mean anything to me. I’ve even post-noted my relevant pages). It also marks subdivisions and schools—things I pass by on a regular basis. In addition, there was a device with a red blinking LED visible to one km with a range of 180˚. It came with a strap and three batteries. I can attach this to myself to make me visible when I take my late-night walks. There was also an LED pen light with a magnifier lens that only weighs 38g and has a metal clip attachment. The last thing in the bag thrilled me to no end—a new tool. This seven-in-one tool is only 12cm long. Get this—it contains an LED light, compass, thermometer, clock, safety whistle, safety mirror and a 2X magnifier. It comes with a lanyard I can wear around my neck. Now I can be all decked out in LED!

OK, time for an honest reality check here—my perception vs. my reality. This person does want to be close to me—not because of the gifts, but because of the intentions behind them. I wrote her a long email thanking her (I did not feel prepared enough to actually talk with her at that point). In the same email, I told her everything. I even attached two documents on bipolar and borderline personality disorders to help her understand the effects these have on me. She responded with such a kind email; it gave me some contact with another person who now knew me the way I wanted her to know me—no pretence about anything. She let me know that she clearly knew what my boundaries were and that she was not going to be in my face, but essentially would let me make any contact. Fearing that I would lapse into my normative state of isolation, I told her that it was OK to call me, but if I felt I was not capable to talk, she could leave me a vm. I was OK with that, so after reading the email, I actually felt better prepared to call her. I am trying so very hard to reach out, but I can only take baby steps. I fear rejection; I fear abandonment.

Now, onto my next hurdle—trying to use “radical acceptance.” The principles are 1) solve the problem, or, 2) change how you feel about the problem, or 3) stay miserable, or 4) accept the problem. It takes away the “judgements” and removes the “shoulds.”

The hurdle—all of the anger and resentment I have felt toward my pastor for placing the 911 call and coming by the house to show the police my text message. My perception? That he was disappointed with me, angry because I did not call first and ask for prayer before I got in that state, and that he would think less of me. Therefore, I took a very deep breath and wrote down everything I wanted to say before I called him so I could focus and concentrate on what I really wanted to say.

I called his house and thankfully, he answered. I am not really sure what I would have said if his wife had picked up instead…I wasn’t prepared for that scenario. I told him who I was not knowing if he would recognize my voice. Then I told him I had something to say and would he listen to me without interrupting me until I was done. I asked him if he would meet me because there were some things that I needed to say to him alone, that we could meet in a public venue of his choosing as long as I would not be seen as making a spectacle of myself if I got emotional, and it had to be a place where I could smoke (damn these city ordinances banning smoking to even include many outside venues). We settled on standing in the church parking lot (right across the street from me) for this Tuesday at 1630. When I finished what I said, he asked if he could say a few things. I hesitated momentarily—this wasn’t a planned two-way conversation. I wanted to say what I had to say, set the time and place and get off the phone, but I ended up saying OK. He helped fill in some more of the blanks. Evidently there were already three or four police cruisers and the EMS there across the street in the church parking lot before he arrived (I had been told earlier by one of the first responder cops that they parked there with no lights flashing on purpose so as not to alert me in case it was a situation of “suicide by cop”). The cops asked him who he was and he explained that he had placed the 911 call as a result of my text message. They asked to see the text message, but they would not let him cross the street to my house at any point. He told me that the only reason why he came over was that he was very concerned and worried about me. He said he had tried to call me after receiving the text message and I did not answer. Again, the problem with my perception vs. reality.

Am I ready for this conversation? I do not know. I have to find a way to let this anger and resentment go. While it is by no means my only trigger, I have obsessed over this a lot—primarily because I have always respected him. He is a WYSIWYG (what you see is what you get for you non-computer geeks) kind of guy—shoots straight from the hip with no guile. From the very beginning, he has accepted the fact that I am a lesbian and never has judged me. I owe him the same respect.

Well, I still have two days to process this. I am also going to discuss during my group therapy session on Monday. I also have my second appointment with my individual therapist on Monday afternoon as well. My question is am I sufficiently prepared to handle this type of conversation at this point so soon after everything has happened? I need to protect myself and not set myself up for failure. I am trying so hard to reach a point in my life where everything is in balance, but I have to put my needs first—a concept that never existed in my “I don’t give a damn” mode.©2009

Appt with Psychiatrist Week 3

My calendar said that we had our second appointment on the 29th, but I don’t remember that one. I can tell my meds have changed because I found his instruction sheet. He always writes everything out because he knows I may not remember. This visit was on 05 November.

My meds have changed again. Now my Geodon has changed from 240mg at bedtime to also include taking an 80mg dose in the morning along with a new drug called Provigil @ 200mg in the morning to help sharpen my focus and concentration. Its primary use is for the treatment of narcolepsy, shift work sleep disorder and excessive daytime sleepiness associated with obstructive sleep apnea. Other potentially effective, but similarly unapproved targets include the treatment of depression, schizophrenia, and disease-related fatigue. I guess my disease-related fatigue is the insomnia due to the depression

His primary concern is that I can keep myself safe. He has always been the only one with whom I’ve been able to be completely honest. I have been seeing him since June, 2000 when I was first diagnosed with BP (BPD didn’t become diagnosed until 2005 after my previous attempt at suicide). Aside from wanting to keep me safe, he is very concerned over my lack of sleep. He told me that I couldn’t expect to see measurable progress until I can overcome the insomnia. He’s also concerned about my weight loss. I’ve lost eight pounds since 28 October because I’m not eating. The only thing I eat is a small snack when I take my two doses of Geodon because it has to be absorbed with food.

Today he increased my Lamictal to 200mg QD. My short-term goals are 1) work on severe depression with medication changes as needed, 2) directly deal with my persistent suicide ideation as depression lessens and while my coping skills are still effective, 3) work on my rage issues as my depression lessens, and 4) work on my isolation as the depression lessens. He knows I am in the OP Therapy program Mon-Wed-Fri, so I am to call his office on Tuesdays and Thursdays and request a call back so he can check in with me. He also wants me to call his service on Saturdays and Sundays for the same purpose. He wants to keep me safe, and feels with this constant monitoring, if needed, he can make a med change on the fly. I couldn’t ask for a better psychiatrist. He gets me. And he said that once my bipolar balances out, he wants to work on my borderline personality disorder. He is more than just a psychiatrist. The time he spends with me and what we talk about is better than any individual therapist I’ve ever seen. I’m very grateful that the circumstances back in 2000 brought us together.©2009

Outpatient Therapy, Day 6

I couldn’t resist this video. It actually had ME chuckling a bit! It’s well worth listening to for you group therapy gurus out there!.

Yesterday I was a little more active about filling information on the daily check-in sheet we use for “sharing” (gag). I was able to verbalize and demonstrate (what they are looking for according to my treatment plan) three skills I have been using to further my treatment.

You know how I mentioned that I can be out driving my car and all of a sudden I don’t where I am, how I got there or how to get home? (which only causes an anxiety attack to no end). Well, what I’ve come up is this plan: I Google the map from house to location (and also do a return map) and I keep that in my car. I study the map so I know what exits to pay attention to if I’m on the interstate. I have been using “mindfulness” (skill #1) by concentrating hard on where I am at all times, mentally checking off the exits. In addition, I will call the location ahead of time (even if it’s been a place where I have gone before) and ask for prominent landmarks that I can start looking for as I approach the location. I mark these landmarks on my map.

When it comes to more locally centered destinations, I can zoom in on Google and it will note landmarks (restaurants, gas stations, churches, etc). It’s still up to me to study them ahead of time so I don’t have to be looking at them while I’m driving. I’ve have even had to resort to do this when I plan to take a long walk around my neighborhood. The other night, when I just wanted to get fresh air, I Googled the diameter of the area usually a minimum of a two-mile stretch (residential, no populated landmarks) and made notes on the map with regard to street addresses to go with the street names and would place arrows to make sure I would know how to get home. In addition, I take my walks when it is very late at night—no traffic, no noise. You might wonder if I’m taking a risk doing this so late. All I can say, pity the fool who wants to fuck with me whether he has a gun or knife. Besides, you’ve heard the phrase, “suicide by cop,” well, couldn’t this be just as easily “suicide by rapist?”

The other immediate issue I have been working on is facing being around a large group of people. When our whole group therapy rejoins us for the second session (we always split into two smaller groups for the “sharing” session), I can’t handle the room that is now filled of people. All of the chairs are taken. I can’t sit next to someone, or even be in close proximity. My coping skill has been to “retreat” (skill #2) where I find a chair alongside the wall, as far as away from the table that is possible. Again, I use “mindfulness” when I start freaking out and the walls feeling like they are closing in around me. I simply close my eyes so I don’t have to see anyone and just zone on what the therapist says. Sometimes I have to use my “deep breathing” (skill 3) when I actually have to open my eyes and look at the white board, or have to participate in the discussion (my extent of participation is usually having to ask her to repeat what she just said because I don’t understand something, or my poor concentration is acting up).

So, I am using three skills so far that seem to be working to an extent. I’ve developed quite a lot of neighborhood maps, by the way. I’m not one to retrace my steps every night. Since I am still alive writing this, the severe suicide ideation I experience on an all too familiar basis, what I have been doing for that one is to get out of my house, because it seems that being all alone in my house has become a trigger, so I “retreat” and take a long, hard walk. The exertion helps dissipate the wrathful rage I am experiencing at the moment, so by the time come home I am usually spent and exhausted. I simply take my bedtime meds knowing that they will knock me out for about two hours tops. When I wake up, the suicide ideation is usually at bay, even when I go into the other room and put all my “instruments” back in their lockbox for no one to find. I’ve carefully labeled it quite prominently Bank Statements, so no one would even bother looking there if the cops ever had the probable cause to search my house.

I am missing a time block from the time I left group therapy this past Friday from about 1215 until I woke up @ 0135 (you know, when I eventually go back to work, there is no point in having to set an alarm!). However, what concerns me most about the dissociative states is wondering what I do when I am in that headspace. I have to ask the obvious question: what happens if I become suicidal during a dissociative state? Will I have the frame of mind to attempt to use my coping skills? I only have this as a vital concern because the last time I committed suicide I cannot remember almost nine hours (which of course could actually have been precipitated by the incredible amount of ETOH I consumed along with the benzos).©2009

Outpatient Therapy, Day 5

This morning was rather interesting. Did the usual sharing, but when I commented that I couldn’t remember anything from the time I left group last Friday (but that I remembered Saturday and Sunday) she asked me if I remembered calling her Friday afternoon. I drew a complete blank. She said I wanted to meet with her afterwards today to discuss my treatment plan. It was news to me (as she scribbled).
Well, we did discuss my treatment plan. I asked why, under master problem list, it listed merely “depression” and no indication of persistent suicide ideation. She explained that I had not been honest from the beginning about that on my daily check-in sheets, and only just started mentioning it. I tried to explain to her that the ideation isn’t just something I think about here and there, but that I struggle with this almost every evening. The only thing that has kept me alive has actually been using one of the coping skills. I am discovering that my house…my fucking house (or rather, being in it all alone), has become a trigger. I have to leave the house and I end up going for a walk—a long walk. My reasoning? It’s late at night, and walking releases so much of my energy. When I finally get home, I’m worn out—physically and emotionally—utterly spent.

She looked at me and told me that she thought I needed go back inside the Big House—that this outpatient treatment program, in her opinion, wasn’t going to be sufficient to keep me safe. I pleaded with her not to make that recommendation (i.e., have me committed again), that I had shown that I was successful in using my skills. I practically begged her to let me go as long as I made the commitment to her that I would use my skills when I was in that head space. I tried to stay calm, although my heart was banging so hard. However, she relented but there was this look in her eyes that scared the shit out of me. All I kept thinking to myself was to just deep breathe and stay calm. I didn’t want to trigger any action on her part.

When I got home later, I looked at my entries on the blog and, sure enough, there was my entry about Friday that I posted on Sunday morning. Evidently, I did remember at that moment actually coming home, but it doesn’t say anything else about the rest of the day. And today, the last thing I could remember was someone making a comment about the fact that I actually smiled for the first time just before we left group. My mind is so fucked up. I swear there are times when I don’t know what is real and what isn’t.©2009

Outpatient Therapy, Day 4: Treatment Plan and My Diatribe about Pot

Friday was an uneventful day again. I’m glad this program is only Mon-Wed-Fri from 0900-1200. Once the group split, I realized that there were a few less of us in my half. A couple of people, evidently, had finished the program. I wondered when I was scheduled to be finished. As usual, we went around the room “sharing” what was on our daily check off sheet. While I understand that this is the opportunity for the therapist to get a good view of the progress each of us is making from day-to-day, I have a hard time enduring what some of these mentals say. Some of them can just go on and on about nothing, or repeat themselves endlessly as if to really underscore the problem they are having with their “issues.” Yelling “I heard you the first time,” would accomplish nothing. Meanwhile, when it came around to me, I sorta just tonelessly droned through my list (nothing had changed from last Wednesday, except that I was still alive). I did underscore that I am having repeated states of dissociation and time loss. I swear, there are blocks of time where I can’t remember shit. Not that I go into another room and forget why I got up in the first place; I’ll forget an entire day and have no idea what happened (no, I am not drinking any alcohol and my meds have never affected me this way before). Or, I’ll be driving down the road and all of a sudden I have no idea where I am, how I got to that point, nor where I am going. Kinda spooky. Of course, she did some heavy scribbling here. Then I reported back to them how well I controlled myself when the cop came back to my house on Wednesday to answer my questions. Then, break time (I always arrange it so I am the last to report in).

The group as a whole has pretty much figured out to leave me alone while I smoke my cigarettes during the break. If there are too many of them around the covered picnic tables, if it’s not raining, I’ll just walk around the parking lot instead. When we came back in, I found out that the whole group would be together again for the second half, so I just grabbed my stuff off of the table and found my seat along the wall in the corner. A few people in the other half of the group looked at me, and I just stared back with this “What’s your problem?” look while I shrugged my shoulders and held up my hands. That usually works. In fact, I had to smile—one of the women in my half of the group saw me do that and looked at me and gave me a thumbs up sign. At least she gets it.

Then, the door opened and one of the other therapists called me out to her office. She wanted to go over my “Interdisciplinary Treatment Plan.” In other words, what they perceived to be my problem areas and their stated goals for me. Basically, this is how it breaks down:

ADMITTING DIAGNOSIS (DSM-IV):

AXIS I: 296.62 Bipolar Disorder, Mixed

AXIS II: Borderline Personality Disorder

AXIS III: HTN, Asthma, Arthritis, Headaches

AXIS IV: Financial, Social, Occupational

AXIS V (GAF): 50 (explained below)

MASTER PROBLEM LIST:

1. Depression
2. Intense anxiety
3. Work-related stress
4. Low self esteem
5. Impaired thoughts
6. Lack of social support
7. Grief (deferred to individual therapist)
8. Shame/Guilt (deferred to individual therapist)
9. Hypertension, knee pain, headaches (deferred to PCP)

GLOBAL ASSESSMENT OF FUNCTIONING SCALE (GAF): “41-50=Serious symptoms (e.g., suicide ideation, severe obsessional rituals, frequent shoplifting) OR any serious impairment in social, occupational, or school functioning (e.g., no friends, unable to keep a job).” [Alix’s note: this description comes from a manual; it by no way implies that I shoplift…LOL]

LONG RANGE GOALS FOR TRATMENT (Discharge Criteria): Alix will exhibit skills adequate to maintain the gains made in therapy and establish adequate resources to function at a lower level of care.

PRESCRIBERD TREATMENT MODALITIES/SHORT-TERM GOALS:
Problem 1: Alix will verbalize and demonstrate 3 skills used to manage depressive symptoms, such as mood swings, feelings of hopelessness, isolation, low motivation, poor sleep, & the impaired ability to function. (Target date 11/27/09)
Problem 2: Alix will verbalize and demonstrate 3 self-nurturing skills used to reduce and help manage feelings of anxiety. (Target date 11/27/09)
Problem 3: Alix will verbalize and demonstrate 3 skills used to manage current work-related and financial stressors. (Target date 11/27/09)
Problem 4: Alix will verbalize and demonstrate 3 confidence-building skills used to experience an improved sense of self esteem. (Target date 11/27/09)
Problem 5: Alix will verbalize and demonstrate 3 skills used to improve memory and concentration, and decrease racing, irrational, and confused thoughts. (Target date 11/27/09)
Problem 6: Alix will verbalize and demonstrate 3 skills used to strengthen or build a support system in order to experience less isolation. (Target date 11/27/09)

Well, folks, there you have it: all my problems summed up in a neat tidy package! I’m supposed to figure out a shitload of “skills.” Hell, I don’t even know what most of them are. I sure hope that teaching them is going to be part of this program (since I’ve only been to a few, I really don’t know what to expect). I wonder if the target date means that is how long I am to remain in the program. I did find out that my current FMLA medical disability goes through 10 November. If the target date does indicate how long they perceive my need to continue in the program, does this mean they are going to re-file w/the disability group @ work and extend my FMLA? I know that, according to federal FMLA rules, I cannot lose my job. They don’t have to give me my exact job back, but they do have to provide minimally a similar job with the exact same pay scale. If my manager deems that the team can no longer proceed with my absence and brings in someone new to replace me, maybe my replacement position will be much less stressful and require less than 12-14 hour work days.

I’m not sure how I feel about returning to my current position. I love the interaction with my clients and being able to provide my services, but the overall demand of having approximately 150 high-end clients (major revenue-producing companies), coupled with the many ongoing projects in which I manage the majority of the work product (and so many of them all having approximately the same deadline dates) have become too much for me to handle. The mere hours I work have finally exhausted me. I have tried to manage my time as effectively as possible, but all it takes is one little phone call from a huge company to throw me all off track (not to mention the number of voicemails I have to address throughout the day). Meanwhile all those inbound emails continue to flood my account with more demands of my time and “invites” to numerous customer meetings. At the end of the day, when I physically can do no more, I look at what I didn’t finish and how many unread emails I still have that day only to realize that it will snowball into the next accompanied by a new day’s worth of meetings and unread emails. I have had too many people tell me that I can only do so much and to let the rest go; however, I am bound by Service Level Agreements as part of the contract signed with my clients. I am required to respond to their emails/voicemails within 24 hours (in some cases, within only one hour depending upon the problem). I also have to take into account that I work for a global company. While I sleep, Europe and Asia continue to send emails and voicemails. I am slowly realizing that, as much as I want to, I can’t be all things to all people. Moreover, this doesn’t even take into account the many hours of continuing in-house corporate training I must complete (e.g., Six Sigma). Vacation time? Sure, I have 17 days left. I’ve been too busy to take any of those up to now—too many projects always underway. (I actually took 09 amd 10 October as vacation days; however,the evening of the 10th is when the nightmare began).  It’s already the first of November. If I don’t use them, I will lose them (no carry over). Can you imagine how many emails are waiting for me right this very minute? How the hell am I going to be able to take off any vacation time between now and the end of the year? I just can’t do it any more, but with the way the job market is, I simply have no choice to not do it. With what I do, trying to find a comparable job elsewhere is a pipe dream—everyone is downsizing, even my own company.

When I got home from group around 1230, there was nothing to do. Yeah, my house could use some straightening up, a good dusting and vacuum job (at least the kitchen always sparkles). I can’t tell you the last time I actually made my bed. I just sit on my couch and listen to my music. Oh how I miss the old days when I could fire up a number, sit back and catch a buzz. When corporate HR policies everywhere instituted the mandatory compliance of random drug testing, all that went out the door. I never envisioned not being able to light up a joint again. I have a big problem with this whole scenario. Go after the tweakers and the hard ball coke and smack users, just leave us well-intentioned potheads the fuck alone. I never got high before or during work; it was simply my “martini” at the end of a long, hard day. Tell me who doesn’t have a beer when they get home from work (or goes out with the gang)? In addition, the drug test policy doesn’t even address the alcohol issue. I can’t tell you how many times, when I used to work in a corporate setting, I would be standing next to someone who smelled like a brewery first thing in the morning, or those that came back from lunch looking just a little too much bloodshot for my tastes. Why not address that pervasive problem. Their judgment is equally impaired. It’s just not fair.

Well, tomorrow is Monday, yet another group session. I have some questions about my treatment plan. At least I know I have something to do from 0900-1200.©2009