emotional Baggage

Expectations From Others

Sometimes, there are little things about having a disability that you would never imagine or believe.

People will always imagine everyone treats me as a human being that deserves respect, love and support and that might feel fair and truthful for some of the time. However, on occasion someone you least expect will throw their emotional baggage at you they refuse to deal with themselves, I gather.

When I’m depressed, I hibernate to minimise fallout on others. I’ve found biting and hissing at others just makes them less likely to sign up for more.

It’s not for everyone. It’s not even good for a long-term solution for anyone with mental health issues. But I like to consider I’m taking responsibility for my issues and not projecting my shit on others. But other times, when someone wants to pick a fight with me, they will throw it in my face that I’m uneducated.

I’m sorry! Did you hear me?

About ten-years-ago I had an OT ask me “How far I made it in school?” I was offended. I finished secondary school. Then completed three years of Tertiary, Arts, sure, however, I’ve since completed a leadership course of which this blog was my project. I also did part of a Certificate IV in assessment and training but don’t even start me on that.

I never had to do a four-thousand-word essay until my first year of tertiary. My art history lecturer thought my presentation on Pop Art and the artists Andy Warhol and Roy Lichtenstein was brilliant. I know it may sound like I’m justifying but!

One thing I would never do is kick anybody when I’m struggling so I feel better about myself. So, you may be able to tell I’m having a hard time.

Sometimes, being one-handed, having half one’s eyesight, not being able to see. Work catches up on me. And as per I’ve some blogging to catch up on. I really don’t like blogging as a reactionary measure because I like to let the dust settle but maybe I need to rant.

Then I foresee many posts to context the ranting. Alas, it is 12.30am, and while this is early, I feel I should call it a day. Unpacking this shit always feels like unpacking dirty laundry.

Can’t Pick ‘Em

More recently when I had my regular carer away on holidays for two weeks, I had a replacement carer. This lady had three shifts that week of more than three hours each shift to cover.

On the Tuesday, I had carer “A”, she quickly unpacked all of her emotional baggage. There is a tendency for friendly banter. She was very new to being a carer and she was telling me all about her husband’s first wife’s impact on her marriage and how he didn’t understand why at her age, she had gone back to study.

She was in her fifty’s and she had chosen to change her career and being a support worker requires qualifications. She was expecting me to be her mental health care provider.

On the way home from this shift, I received a text that this carer “A” would cover the rest of my shifts while my regular was away. I knew I would not cope so put a block on her. It seems to mean, but I’ve worked out in my short time which carers I can cope with and which ones I can’t.