What is it they say about poking a sleeping bear with a stick?

Oh yeah, DON'T DO IT, DUMB-ASS!! Well, apparently, that's exactly what I've done. Most of you guys know my story, a little over three years ago now I was a bit "too" honest with a strange therapist (mine was on vacation) when I when in for a med check (because mine were BAD ju-ju and I wanted off them) and I ended up with a four-day, three-night stay in the Hotel California (as I like to call it). Granted, I wasn't in the best headspace BEFORE that little "incident", but since then, I've been on a personal lockdown ever since.

By lockdown, I mean I only left the house to go to work and the barest of necesssities. It was over a year before I could take my road trips again and they were sparse. I haven't been to Disney since 2016. And, because of events that happened in said "hotel", I've slept on the couch ever since, despite numerous attempts to return to sleeping in the bed. It had been three years of a very quarantine kind of life, even before Covid.

Then, the joy that is Covid came along and the rest of the world joined me in my lockdown. For a while, I liked the fact that I could go to work without traffic, or go to the store to pick up my groceries and not encounter an entire parking lot full of people. I stopped trying so hard to cover up my "weirdness" because I didn't need to...there was no one around to hide it from. I didn't have to worry about getting out anymore, so I didn't have to work on my "people skills" 24/7 and I just kind of "forgot" how to use them.

But then the death toll started climbing and I noticed that, even though I work in healthcare, the people around me weren't taking it seriously. As someone with OCD, germaphobia has NEVER been an issue with me...it is now. The lack of mask-wearing by everyone else, made me more paranoid and more scared to go out when the initial scare ended (what little it was in the beginning here in the South). Despite the rising death toll, the fear in that initial wave has never gone up (except in me). But around here, that initial "quiet time" wave was short, so when the traffic picked back up, so did my fear.

Now it's gotten harder and harder for me to go pick up my groceries. I have to park facing away from the door to avoid seeing all the people without masks. Getting gas for my car is worse. I'm even having panic attacks trying to get out of my car to come into work, because I know what I'm walking into...a building full of people who could care less, unlike me. And, worst part of all, those so-called "people skills" that I've learned to fake enough to get by my entire life, without those few weeks of keeping up practice on them, has somehow completely dissappated to the point that I can't remember how to "fake" even appearing normal anymore! How does that happen after an entire LIFETIME of building those up?

What little release I did have was my road trips, and Covid has wiped those out since February, so there has been no escapism at all. I've become more and more isolated from family (not that I had many to become isolated from). I've found myself unable to leave my office when I am at work, which causes issues when people around the lab need things. There are numerous projects I need to do that aren't in my office, but they aren't getting done because I've created a little prison at work as well. If my intern is around, I get him to do it, if not, I find a way to drag it out until he is here. Yeah, it's that bad.

For someone who was already emotionally crippled by a set of events that happened three years ago, suddenly, with Covid, I found myself in a state that is pretty much a non-functioning adult. Every single day is such a complete struggle, I constantly have to remind myself what I'm struggling for. Yes, I could just file for disability and stay home forever (which would make me emotionally happy), but that home would be the trailer I currently live in (so it would be a life of poverty and not one I would really want if I dive too deeply into it). Or, I could continue on with my path, drag myself out of the door every morning (which is what I do), so I can work towards getting a "real house" and have a comfortable place to come home to. But lately, that doorknob is getting harder and harder to turn every single day.

That is why, I started looking around for therapists again and, unfortunately, because I live in po-dunk Arkansas, I ended up back with the people that locked me up in the first place. Thankfully (or so I thought), they have new people now (including an Asper specialist), some of them have moved back to their old building I was used to (including the Asper specialist), and they are doing tele-health (although I don't know for how long, as she likes to keep reminding me (over and over again) that I will one day have to step foot in that building again...which I don't think I can do).

But then, I actually STARTED the therapy. And, after two sessions, I am now almost regressed to the state I was in the moment I left the "hotel"...you guys remember, when I couldn't even leave the house, or sleep, or eat? The nightmares are back with a vengeance, I have numerous panic attacks per day, and I'm pretty much terrified of my own shadow. I chose her because she was the best to deal with my particular issues, but we don't seem to be dealing with those...all she wants to focus on is the joy that was the Hotel California.

Last session, she pretty much told me that, although she is "willing to work with me", she really couldn't help me because she thought that I had too much "trauma" from my "hotel" stay and I needed to see a trauma specialist. At first, this pissed me off because, technically I was screwed up before they locked me up (or else I wouldn't have gone to therapy in the first place)...they just made it hundred times worse, Covid made it a thousand times worse and, thanks to just two simple therapy sessions, now I'm a million times worse! Then I checked out the place she recommended and it's OUTRAGEOUSLY expensive!! I live in a bloody trailer! She's aware of this (because I emailed her and chewed her out about it), but thinks it's "medically necessary" and "I need to find a way to afford it". Uh, ok, I'll just go rob that bank now.

But now, either by the power of suggestion, or regurgitating all this crap to a member of that "blessed" place, my lack of functionality has gotten so bad, that I now actually have to do something about it. So, before Thanksgiving, I finished the paperwork and today made the damned appointment. I won't be able to afford to go long-term, so I'm not sure where I'm going to have to draw the line. They are not going to be able to fix me at this point anyway, I'm a lost cause, but I at least need to get functionable again. I just hope they can do that before the money runs out.

I did stitch a bit yesterday, but now I'm too tired to post it, so maybe next time. And there's the story of how I ended back up and therapy, and why I'm now worse than ever. Yeah me.

Apparently I'm more screwed up than I thought...

First, the IMPORTANT news...my Sister and Brother-In-Law aren't any better, but they aren't any sicker either (although I can't confirm that). So, I'm not sure if that's good news or bad. But my BIL's Mother, has been battling Alzheimer's for like 15+ years (maybe more), finally passed away on Friday, so one more punch to the gut. Then, this weekend, they lost another good friend to Covid. It's wearing them both down during a time when they don't need it.

Thanks to everyone for your well-wishes though. We aren't really a video-chat family, I couldn't do that myself, let alone get someone else to do that too! Sometimes I have to do it for work, but I always turn the camera AWAY from my face (that might be an issue for someone considering starting a YouTube Channel, right?).

On my front, Friday's therapy session went worse than the first, and I was told that, although she was still willing to work with me, she felt that my trauma from being locked up was too severe of a problem, especially since she works for the people that did it, and if I wasn't willing to go to another in-patient facility (yeah, I haven't shared that with my Sister yet, I figured she had enough on her plate), then I needed to consider a trauma specialist. Apparently, I'm a lot more f'ed up than I thought, and I thought I was pretty f'ed up in the first place! Yeah me.

So I didn't stitch at all this weekend because my brain was running 90 miles an hour. My only two options are being locked up again (although I'm not sure how locking me up is going to fix a problem caused by locking me up) or going to a new, strange therapy place with people I don't know. If I have to physically go there, then it's impossible. Or, I could just quit it all again and live in this current state that continues to decline...oh, the choices.

I filled out the basic online form for the new people, but they have to talk to me on the phone, which means I'll have to actually ANSWER the phone when they call...a feat onto itself, since I don't like talking to anyone anymore either. If they can't do the paperwork online, then there is no way. The place I'm going now doesn't do paperwork online either, I just had an "in" and got around it. There is something to be said for the "comradery" of the medical community.

My therapist also wants me on a much stronger anti-anxiety med, which means...yep, you guessed it, the dreaded shrink aspect. Yeah again. Apparently, the trauma place can do that, but he's a he. I don't do well with men in that capacity, never have. They are lucky to get two words out of me, that's if I can speak at all (which is usually the case).

She doesn't want me to give up and just go on disability, although she realizes it is probably going to be my only option, but she wants to take every avenue she can to prevent it first. I guess I really slammed home the need for a "real house" and I can't do that on disability. Never give a therapist a goal, that's rule #321! I'm once again falling into my own traps! And then she threatened me with the end of Covid, which would mean the end of online therapy sessions, questioning my future role in therapy, to which my answer was, "well, I guess we'd be done because there is NO WAY I'm stepping foot in that building"...yeah, that didn't go over too well with someone who wants to work with you long-term.

So, it's new therapists for trauma, shrink for new meds, keep the therapist I have now for Asper-related issues, and bleed money that probably won't get me a house anyway. It's the ultimate catch-22! I do have insurance, but their mental health coverage SUCKS! I found that out when I stayed in the Hotel California. Granted, at least until the end of the year, I have a HUGE build-up of medical reimbursement (which I have pre-deducted out of my paycheck to cover such things...and since, thanks to Covid, I didn't have all the expensive doctor visits I usually do that drains that dry, I have enough to cover this for now). But next year might be a different story.

Granted, I knew trauma was a HUGE part of this mess, my little "hospital visit" did make all this mess worse, but then again, had they not been pumping full of the wrong kind of drugs because they didn't know how to treat an Asper, I wouldn't have ended up there in the first place. So, here I am again, in this vicious loop of "do I" or "don't I". Somehow, I knew I'd end up right back here at square one. I promise though, I will tell you guys about why I decided to torture myself like this again.

Hell, maybe just the threat of the torture might be enough to snap me out of it...I did actually go to Walmart and Target to get groceries and stuff on Saturday...meaning I ordered them online the night before (so I wouldn't chicken out) and picked them up from the parking lot, but it's something I haven't done in two weeks, so it's something, right? Now, if I can just put gas in my car before the light comes on again, then PROGRESS (but I'm not counting my chickens)!

Yeah, that's what I get for using the word "normal"...

This week I had "planned" to share my therapy experience and that whole path with you guys, but life kicked me in the tail in ways I didn't see coming. Literally 20 minutes of me getting to work after my therapy appointment, we got a call that a Covid-positive co-worker's wife (he was sick too), literally dropped dead! She was just 55 years old. Their daughter has it too, but she was infected elsewhere, so she hadn't been in the house. His nurse of a sister stepped in to help him do CPR on his wife, so now she has it too.

But here is where I start to get angry...within hours of her passing, there were pictures on Facebook of him hugging various members of his immediate family, including a negative son (which now isn't) and many others (a lot of which are also now positive) because of all of the outpouring of grief. I would be terrified of infecting someone else, a lot more than worrying about getting a hug from someone. Is that just me? I get that I don't feel grief like others do (and I deplore being touched, let alone hugged, at the best of times), but my lack of empathy gene still couldn't handle knowing I willingly infected (and potentially killed) someone else, especially your own child, all for the sake of physical comfort. That's the part of grief I guess I don't understand. I kind of see it as being more selfish...wanting something so superficial (as a hug) that could potentially lead you to another funeral in week or two.

I could rant forever about empathy (or my lack thereof, or maybe "misplacement" is a better word) and what I think is proper, but ultimately, that's someone else's burden not mine. What IS important was what happened at roughly the exact same time...the ABSOLUTE WORST THING EVER...my Sister had to admit, as we were texting each other about the co-worker's wife (it's a VERY small town and she heard the exact same time we did), that she herself was sick! I think she wasn't planning on telling me at all, because she knew how I'd react (total freak out, of course, I cried the rest of the afternoon), but because of those events, she knew the jig was up and it was fessing up time. And yes, she tested positive the next day, although she thought she just had the flu, despite being exposed a few days before.

It took my Brother-In-Law a few more days, and at first he tested negative, but he got sick a couple of days later and then his test came back positive too. Despite her best efforts to protect him, I figure they were infected at the same time, it just took it a bit longer to grab him. I'm trying to trust what she's telling me, that yes, they are sick, but they are dealing fine, but I'm still very scared. I haven't actually spoken to her (or seen her, obviously), so I can't judge that for myself. It's just a daily check-in text because I don't want to annoy her (and I'm already managing that enough with what little I'm doing).

Her path to Covid was quite different to my co-worker's (he's already had five scares because of recklessness, she had been a LOT more careful...this was unavoidable) and since their diagnosis, they have been super-responsible and staying away from everybody (obviously the RIGHT thing to do), but nurses are the WORST about judging their own symptoms and they are usually the ones who you read the horror stories about (although I bet she's watching her husband like a hawk!). I would gladly take this on instead of her and my Bro. I am trying to stay calm because I know getting freaked out isn't helping her, but I'm also sure she probably knows I'm on the borders of losing it. There is literally NOTHING I can do and everytime my phone goes off, I just feel sick and I'm scared to look at it. They should be at the "getting over it" stage, but neither one of them are. Until I see a series of "today I'm much better" texts along with a negative test for both of them, my brain won't shift gears.

So, on to something else because I am freaking myself out again. I tried to stitch last week, but I just couldn't. And then I decided that maybe it was because I was just done with Maleficent and needed to switch to something else, so Sunday I did. I think it helped stitch-wise, but I still only stitched for a couple of hours before I had to stop because my mind was racing too much. I switched to Alice and the B's, which I left off back in March here:

And, in that two hours, made it here:

Considering the short time limit, I did stitch a lot, you just can't tell because it's so spread out. It really is a HUGE piece!

I have another therapy appointment this Friday, and I honestly couldn't care less, so I guess that's better than the terror I went into the last one with (and the nausea I came out of it with). Maybe, by next week, I can get into my big therapy story and this whole "my family has Covid too" story will be far behind all of us.

I will say though, all my blustering about, "oh, it will take something drastic for the people around here to wake up and take Covid seriously" was literally just that...bluster. Even with a death of a family member and now four employees having had it...not a SINGLE person has either changed their stupid ignornant views or their behaviors, so it's just going to get worse. As someone with OCD who has NEVER been a germaphobe, I'm getting worse and worse by the day as I continue to see medical workers pay less and less attention to their own, or their co-workers and, what I would "assume" (although you know what they say about THAT word) should be the most important, their family's safety. I'm just really angry and scared right now and I guess I want to place blame somewhere, so the idiots of the world it is!

Back to a "normal" track...

Or, as potentially "normal" as I can be...I stitched ONE day this weekend. I FINALLY slept a good full-night's sleep, so I thought I'd forget about everything and get caught up on Lil's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. watch-a-longs and stitch a bit. For those that don't know, Elizabeth Henstridge, who plays Agent Simmons on AOS, is having watch-a-longs on her YouTube Channel, and she has special guests including other cast members (and a lot of the big ones, not just little guys), directors, VFX people, heads of wardrobe, hair and makeup, props, and a lot of other departments. She has them remembering the episode filming, describing their personal paths into the business and what their jobs entail. It's just very informative for, not only the diehard S.H.I.E.L.D. fans, but for anyone interested in the industry in general. I didn't think I cared that much about the behind-the-scenes stuff, but it turns out, after watching her vids, I do tend to be quite engaged more than I thought I would be!

I"m still having issues focusing on stitching, but I left off here last time:

And made it here after about 2.5hrs before I gave up:

Better than nothing, right? Anyway, tomorrow is the BIG web therapy day, which I'm not ready to talk about that whole journey that got me here just yet (it's hard enough doing it in the first place), but I'll try to break it down when I can and tell you guys about how I decided to start this process over again. It may not even work, but supposedly, and maybe because of me, they do have an Asper specialist now who deals with adults, we'll see. I'm haviing enough trouble trying to decide where to even do it!

I could do it from home and just come in a couple of hours late, but then they will be invading my #1 safe space and do I really want that? Or would it be better if I was in my personal space? Right now, my mind is thinking of them as invaders and they would "sully" my pristine personal environment. Plus, I do web conferences ALL the time for work, but never video conferences and there is no place in my house whatsoever that doesn't give away my OCD/hoarding issues, but again, would that be a bad thing for a therapist to see? Then again, if I could wrap my head around the fact that I could be around my comfort things, maybe it won't be so bad going through all this (what I'm considering potential) torture. Worse comes to worse, Bam and Bugs could protect me, right?

Then there is the whole other issue of, if I didn't stay home from the get-go, and actually went to work first, I would immediately have to turn around since traffic is now like a 45 minute turn-around-time (for a 7 mile journey), so do I want to drive all the way to work, spend 15 minutes here, leave, and then come back? That seems stupid, so best to come in later. Besides, as freaked out as I am today, tomorrow I'll be lucky to be able to drive to work AFTER the mess, let alone before AND after! So, me on the roadways might not be the best idea for anyone!

I could do it in my vehicle at work if I go in, but that's my #2 safe space and that's still that "invasion" thinking (but I've already checked and, at home I can't get wi-fi, but I can at work, so it's doable), but do I WANT to do that? I expect I will be loud (I have a LOT of anger against these people) and sitting in a car in a parking lot, in a busy medical area, having a therapy session might not be the best way to do that. And again, I could wind up stuck in the car both before and after the session just from freaking out. Not good.

The only other option is to do it at work in my office (my #3 safe space), but my intern will be here, so I'd have to kick him out for a while. I expect, again, I will be loud, so it's not like others won't hear me anyway and this is a VERY private thing (and this is not a very private place, personal office or not). And, it won't matter how many signs I put on my door or if I put my phone on do not disturb, people WILL interrupt me and this is costing me a fortune, so again, not maybe the wisest choice. If it goes badly, I'm not a fan of breaking down at work, although I have done it numerous times, but I could be trapped here if it goes REALLY badly and not be able to get home at all.

When it comes to this, I'm not sure any locational choice is best, but I have to do something and I have to take that first step somehow. I've had months to deal with this upcoming appointment, but I haven't. For some reason, all weekend I was thinking it was Thursday and not Tuesday, so when they called this morning and I saw their name pop up on my phone, I was shaking so badly I almost dropped the phone entirely. I didn't want to answer it, but part of me was hoping they were calling to cancel my appointment. When she said it was tomorrow and I looked up at the post-it note above my head that confirmed it, I almost dropped the phone again. I should be more prepared for this, but it is what it is, so I guess I'll let you guys know when I come out the other side!

To quote Regina Mills...

"Admit it, you get a quarter from the hope commission every time you say that word, don't you?". I know I use that word a lot here...and in my everyday speech, or I have in the past...not so much lately. Using that word is the side-effect of being a Disney girl maybe, but it's also a very strange trait to have for an Aspergirl with so many other conditions that, not only contradict that mentality, but that have been so rubbed raw, not only from the events of the past year with Covid, but with the past four years in general.

For the past week, I've practically been sequestered in my house when I haven't been at work (but honestly, I've been that way all year, so not THAT big of a difference, but still). I've not sleeping, except for a hour or less per night, because I've been glued to my screen in terror...watching the vote totals go up and down. There has been a lot of commotion outside with people excited thinking that the incumbent President was going to win, while I've been terrifed that he; a) would win and, b) they would find out I didn't vote for him and come after me. Could I have been overreacting? Sure...but I do live in a trailer park in the far-right extreme world, so I'm not completely without merit.

Late last night, I gave up, took the medicine that, not only helps me sleep, but keeps me seizure free (which I have not been taking all week and I'm supposed to take every single day...a seizure-inducing act in itself, a stupid move on my part, I'm aware), and, as the most annoying song on the planet says, "let it go" and finally slept. Not that I EVER want to risk a seizure, but I've honestly been too scared to sleep. There has been a LOT of talk, around here at least, about the possibility of a new civil war. I'm not sure how much that's been a discussion around the rest of the country (the media has mentioned it), but around here, where the first civil war is still very revered with much love, as well as much anger over its loss (I kid you not), it, again, isn't a fear without merit.

This morning, I woke up at an unusually early hour (maybe a physical response to four days little, to no sleep, or the fear kicked in subconsciously and woke me), but I did get at least five hours, more than all week, and immediately went right back to my screen. But instead of the totals I left (and the ones I've been staring at for two days now) and the sense of dismay everyone has been feeling, I saw the amazing news I almost believed wasn't going to happen and I finally really BREATHED in literally a year!

Granted, we are still in MAJOR crisis as a country and, me personally? I may be able to breathe at least a bit again, but I also have MAJOR issues that have to be dealt with, as does the entire country. But at least I can now deal with them with a renewed sense of hope. Hope for the future, hope that there actually CAN be a future, and hope that things can get better for me, for our people, for our country and for the world. I now have to focus on myself though, and stop using the events of the world as an excuse for ignoring myself, which I know I've been doing.

As we all move forward, there also has to be a reckoning for those who have caused such turmoil in this country. I know there is a large chunk of people who would prefer that the past four years would just go away, but I'm not as forgiving and I need justice. Yes, we all need to join together and heal. I want prosecution for crimes committed by our current administration. I'm not sure we'll get it, but I hope they try.

Also, if this election has taught me anything, it's that there is a HUGE chunk of this country that is completely IGNORANT about their fellow man. I always just thought the "redneck" meantality was just a Southern thing and they were a very small minority, but apparently they are a plaque all across this country. I've been proven so very wrong. There has been this constant mantra in the media this week calling them the "uneducated white working class". I do make it a point to stay away from mainstream media, especially in the past four years (although I am always aware of the top issues)...too much news is just bloody depressing. I take a bit of offense at that label though. Theoretically, I'm in that group...I've never graduated college (despite my MANY attempts), I am Caucasian, I work for a living and can't survive without my job (and barely do on what I make because, obviously, I do live in a trailer park).

Granted, I'm not speaking to a particular party, I'm talking about these groups of gun-toting, so-called "Trumpers" who show up threating people who were voting and the people counting votes. These are the people threatening our democracy, not protecting it. These are NOT the people who voted for him because they think he was the right person for the job for whatever reason they thought that. A person's party choice is their choice and they have the choice to vote for whoever they want. That's what makes this country so great and, this is the word of the week here in the States, a DEMOCRACY!

At the same time, a LOT of people in this election voted against their own party just to get the current administration out, which is a whole OTHER story, but again, speaks to the overall disgust of our country and the joy of our democracy. The Lincoln Project was a massive influence for me to register to vote in the past few months...a coalition of Republicans against the administration. Check out their videos if you get a chance. Even as the election closes, The Lincoln Project will continue on because their work will never finish as long as there are corrupt politicians in office.

But, all things said (as per usual, way too long for me, sorry about that...I'm wordy!), we still have over two more months of, what could possibly be a very volatile administration (I honestly can't see the incumbent being decent, let alone graceful...I see him being potentially inflaming to his own little "rebel army" that could still potentially cause serious issues in this country). I just hope that everyone with a stable head stays orderly and we can come out the other side to the new year and a new dawn.

Congratulations to President-Elect Joe Biden and Vice President-Elect Kamala Harris, and again, let's stop for a minute there...first woman VP AND first woman of color VP (wow to that!). I personally can not wait for the next four years of getting back to normalcy (although it might be a rough road at first). We all have work to do, but we can do it together!