Pubbing a bit later than usual this week. Not sure why.
Turns out I can make my boss happy, all he needs is perfection. In the process of emotionally detaching from my work. I see it this way, I am perfectly capable of being kind, empathetic and listening to my patients when they are in front of me AND THEN giving myself some emotional space when I am reading over their records and putting things into the data capture system. I have no obligation to be as invested and tied up in their journey when it's just me, their chart and the computer. Framing this as 'appropriate usage of emotional resources' rather than 'You cold heartless jerk, care all the time!' is helpful. Other than that, things proceed apace. I continue to be absolutely aghast at the lip service paid to mental health in American medicine. Be sick, or be crazy, definitely don't be both. And definitely don't be broke AND sick AND crazy.
This is the first holiday season after my parents are officially divorced. Looking at the current calendar, I have three thanksgivings to go to, two of which I am cooking a sizable portion of the food. My dad had no intention of doing anything for the holiday, and would have spent it alone were it not for my efforts. Go me, I suppose.
Being patriarch this young still sucks though. If there is to be any semblance of cohesion in my family, it seems that it must start with me. Everyone else is either too young, too emotionally unstable, or has too many obligations it seems. Or maybe I'm just the one who gives the most fucks.
I am ever thankful for my RPS. lil I am doing my best to follow your advice. Defining my own family unit is helpful in times like these. I take care of my household, and then do the best I can with everyone else, and that's enough.
I was absently browsing housing rentals on craigslist and found a too good to be true listing. After exchanging a couple of emails with the 'owner' and doing some digging (How can a house be listed both for sale and for rent? ) and contacting a real estate agent, I found out it was indeed too good to be true. There's just no way a 3BR3BA in a major metropolitan area could rent for less than several thousand a month, especially in this super boojie college town.
I'm a little disappointed with myself that I allowed myself to get so excited, fantasize as much as I did. The thought of having space, a fenced yard, raising another leader dog... Well, it was a really bright, shining fantasy that made me really happy, and the resulting hopelash stings like a bitch. In an effort to make something positive out of it, I realized that within a few years I am going to likely be in a position where I am looking to buy a house. I'm not currently in that position, but there are things that I can do now to improve my position later. So, in an effort to get something useful out of this, I set up an appointment with a friend of a friend who does mortgages. We're gonna get lunch and have a discussion that amounts to 'Other than getting rid of as much debt as I can, and building up as much of a down payment as I can, what can I do over the next few years so that I will be able to buy a house?' and see where that leads.
It's difficult to not just let this turn into bitterness. Working on it anyway. Productive bitterness is better than just sitting and fuming, I think.
Every now and then I get these flashes where it feels like all the progress I've made is washed away. I am the same guy who made some of my most inflammatory posts. Instantly, (thankfully only for an instant) I put the worst possible spin on everything that I'm doing/everything that's going on. This doesn't persist, but it does happen. I've been considering re-starting therapy, I have an open invitation from my last counselor to come back whenever. Maybe it will go away on it's own.