From "Memories" on Facebook...
Honestly, I have no recollection of what exactly I did that was such a "FUBAR" event. Only thing I can think of is that I dropped an F-bomb on a customer. Of course, at the time in 2008, I was sleeping on a friend of my older brother's place, I was sleep deprived due to having sometimes only 2 or 3 hours of sleep every night, and then waking at 6am every morning, followed by being at work at 8am later in the morning, followed by waiting to start my shift at Sitel which would've been 11am. My shift would end around 6pm or 7pm. Then, because my brother often feels like he's the only one who has EVER worked a "real job", in his view, we all (roommates, my brother, etc) would listen to my brother gripe about his day. Often starting with "I had this one customer...." and as for the validity, or whether he was embellishing his stories (I believe it was the latter), he would babble on the whole night until 1 or 2am. This went on from November 2007 to about late April/May 2008. Which would lead me to an all-out venting to my brother, and subsequently having to be admitted to a hospital in May 2008, followed by my walking away from my job (figuratively & literally), which would then end up being the last job I worked over 10 years ago.
Whatever the "FUBAR" was, it probably was the catalyst for all of the events leading up to my eventual hospital visit, twice, and then losing my job. Not long afterward, I moved to Colorado to live with mom, and that was a rough couple of years at first.
Still, though, I don't remember at all what the "FUBAR" was, but I'm glad I'm not in that type of work anymore. Now, I just want to focus my efforts on becoming a musician. To what degree or extent is yet to be determined, but regardless, the events of late 2007 through almost mid-2008 made me realize my brother is an asshole! And not just an asshole, but one who is aware of his narcissism, and sometimes enjoys it. Like a sociopath. Probably gaslighting people in his path, including yours truly.
When my mother wants to bring up anything regarding my brother, I instantly become anxious. I tell her I don't want to talk about my brother about anything related to his ... life or lifestyle. My therapist believes that my reaction to my mother bringing up my older sibling, describing my inability to trust people as a result of being harassed & bullied from K through 12 (right up to HS graduation day June 11th, 1998), my surviving abuse of all kinds as a child, are all what she considers consistent with PTSD.
Anyway, the FUBAR incident is something I must've blocked out. I can't recall anything about that day. Of course, because I had no real outlet to vent, and I didn't have my journals to write in, either online or manual pen/pencil & paper (which I've hidden, because nobody will get to read that shit when I leave this world several decades from now), I don't have any record that can give me clues to what it was. I'm fairly certain it was the incident in which I was "randomly selected" for a drug test, and when I was told "You popped positive for codeine!", I was furious with Sitel at that, because it was part of my prescription pain killer medication. I was suspended for 3 days for something that I was legally taking at the direction of my primary doctor.
I'm so very lucky I walked away from that job. I had fantasized about bashing in my brother's head with a frying pan. He often came home so blitzed out of his fucking mind, he wouldn't have seen it coming or had time to react. I'm glad I didn't carry out that fantasy, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't have nights where I was really considering it.
At this point, though, I wish I could go back to early 2003, and help get my doctors to start thinking outside the box with their pain management methods. I wish I would have considered removing my eye much sooner, like around 2003/2004-ish. Finding out there were indications of detached retina, chronic and acute hemorrhaging, and the baerveldt implants for my glacuoma being too big for the eye were part of the reason I was consistently having days & nights filled with such awfully severe pain. And very little compassion from my older brother didn't help me at all.
Remember, according to my older brother, NOBODY works harder or as hard as my older brother. Nobody has a job worse than his job. And of course, when it came to my work, my job, he didn't believe I did ANYTHING close to what he might consider "hard work", because again, NOBODY works as hard as my older brother.
Just thinking about that year doesn't give me any "happy thoughts". It's hard to not want to have a "mental health day" where I accept that I have deep feelings that can't be simply "cried away". The only way I can ever get better is if someone does the one thing I know that they'll never do. Apologize!
And even if he/she offered the apology, I have strongly held doubts that they'd ever be sincere. And would I be willing to accept it at all? Probably not. The urge to punch my brother in the face multiple times might be overwhelming.
*sigh*
Some things just shouldn't have gone the way that they did in 2007 and 2008. I honestly feel that year(s) had been the start of my decline in health, especially my physical health, my emotional health, and my mental health, and not having access to mental health resources were a challenge in Southern Nevada, especially in Las Vegas, NV, and not having access to social outlets to let me vent more often also didn't help me one bit.
This, among other times in my life, are the reason I wish I could go back in time, change events in my life, and seriously violate the Temporal Prime Directive. I'd violate the shit out of it!
When my mother wants to bring up anything regarding my brother, I instantly become anxious. I tell her I don't want to talk about my brother about anything related to his ... life or lifestyle. My therapist believes that my reaction to my mother bringing up my older sibling, describing my inability to trust people as a result of being harassed & bullied from K through 12 (right up to HS graduation day June 11th, 1998), my surviving abuse of all kinds as a child, are all what she considers consistent with PTSD.
Anyway, the FUBAR incident is something I must've blocked out. I can't recall anything about that day. Of course, because I had no real outlet to vent, and I didn't have my journals to write in, either online or manual pen/pencil & paper (which I've hidden, because nobody will get to read that shit when I leave this world several decades from now), I don't have any record that can give me clues to what it was. I'm fairly certain it was the incident in which I was "randomly selected" for a drug test, and when I was told "You popped positive for codeine!", I was furious with Sitel at that, because it was part of my prescription pain killer medication. I was suspended for 3 days for something that I was legally taking at the direction of my primary doctor.
I'm so very lucky I walked away from that job. I had fantasized about bashing in my brother's head with a frying pan. He often came home so blitzed out of his fucking mind, he wouldn't have seen it coming or had time to react. I'm glad I didn't carry out that fantasy, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't have nights where I was really considering it.
At this point, though, I wish I could go back to early 2003, and help get my doctors to start thinking outside the box with their pain management methods. I wish I would have considered removing my eye much sooner, like around 2003/2004-ish. Finding out there were indications of detached retina, chronic and acute hemorrhaging, and the baerveldt implants for my glacuoma being too big for the eye were part of the reason I was consistently having days & nights filled with such awfully severe pain. And very little compassion from my older brother didn't help me at all.
Remember, according to my older brother, NOBODY works harder or as hard as my older brother. Nobody has a job worse than his job. And of course, when it came to my work, my job, he didn't believe I did ANYTHING close to what he might consider "hard work", because again, NOBODY works as hard as my older brother.
Just thinking about that year doesn't give me any "happy thoughts". It's hard to not want to have a "mental health day" where I accept that I have deep feelings that can't be simply "cried away". The only way I can ever get better is if someone does the one thing I know that they'll never do. Apologize!
And even if he/she offered the apology, I have strongly held doubts that they'd ever be sincere. And would I be willing to accept it at all? Probably not. The urge to punch my brother in the face multiple times might be overwhelming.
*sigh*
Some things just shouldn't have gone the way that they did in 2007 and 2008. I honestly feel that year(s) had been the start of my decline in health, especially my physical health, my emotional health, and my mental health, and not having access to mental health resources were a challenge in Southern Nevada, especially in Las Vegas, NV, and not having access to social outlets to let me vent more often also didn't help me one bit.
This, among other times in my life, are the reason I wish I could go back in time, change events in my life, and seriously violate the Temporal Prime Directive. I'd violate the shit out of it!
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