Category Archives: Anger

Angry At God…

I am feeling pretty angry at God lately. I am angry that He allowed me to have a mother who hated me. I am angry that He allowed me to have BPD, Depression, Anxiety, and other mental issues. I am angry that He allowed me to get a job that I am not getting hours at. Which means I need to find something else. I am angry that I had to live with an aunt and uncle who don’t like animals, so I had to have someone else care for my dog. I am angry that I am so stressed and depressed, I can’t look for another job. I am angry that I don’t have a clue as to what I want to do with my life. I want to be an author but am not motivated to figure out how to publish my books. I am angry that because of how I was raised and other people that have been in my life, I have such low self-esteem that I can’t believe that I am any good or worth anything good. I am angry that God won’t heal me. I know it takes time, but I’m sick of time. I’m sick of trying my best, which is never good enough for anyone else. And it’s not good enough for me either. I should be out there tackling the world, and I don’t know how. I’m just angry that God doesn’t show Him self in an obvious way so that I know He is there. I know there are little things and I see them once in awhile, but right now I need to see Him, because I don’t feel like there is any other hope. I’M ANGRY, ANGRY, ANGRY!!!

Devin

It’s Bedtime!

Now that I’ve been in bed for 45 minutes, I thought of something to write. I was thinking back over the day, and remember something that really gets under my skin. If I don’t write it out, I won’t be able to sleep. One of the residents at my facility, is pretty much mean to everyone, at least all of us caregivers. She will talk with her table mates but otherwise sticks to herself. So at lunch today, while we were serving drinks, I asked her what she wanted, and she told me. At each setting place, there are two glasses (different sizes) and a cup for coffee. Most residents will turn over and specify which cups/glasses, they want their drink in. This resident didn’t do that. I asked her which cup she wanted me to put her drink in. It was like a bother to her that she would need to tell me which glass. She handed me a glass, sighed loudly and said, “stupid!” under her breathe. I took the glass, bit my tongue and went to get her drink. My coworker B, said, “just smile at her, that’s what I do.” Yeah I’ve been doing that ever since I started here. This resident also has a fit if we don’t fill the glass right to, below the rim. When getting her cereal, if I ask her how much milk, she will scowl and glare at me. So I don’t ask anymore. One day I was walking down the hall and passed her. I noticed she had a book on her walker by one of my favorite authors. I commented, “Oh I love her! She’s an awesome author.” To which I got a glare, scowl and shake of the head. Then this resident just kept walking. I was just trying to be nice and make conversation with her. Most residents even if they hate the world, are usually a little nice if I try to make nice conversation with them, but not her. Anyway, it pisses me off that she is allowed to treat people this way. Maybe it’s because she called me stupid for asking her which cup she wanted me to fill, which excuse me, does not make me stupid! I wanted to be like, “excuse me? I don’t help those who treat me that way!” But for fear of making a scene and getting in trouble, I held my tongue. I’ve dealt this way a lot in my life situations. I’m always afraid of making a scene, even in really hard situations, that shouldn’t be happening. This is minor compared to those. I think this pisses me off even more today, because she called me stupid. I know I’m not stupid, but being called that most of my life, it brings up flashbacks from my childhood. Which pisses me off even more.

We also lost one of my favorite residents yesterday. It was her time to go. I’ve gotten used to people passing on, as usually they are in a lot of pain, and I know they are in a better place. This woman though was really sweet and would joke with us all the time. She had fallen and I guess went downhill. She was moved to the rehab side but we all thought she would be coming back to our side soon. It was sudden and unexpected. The other thing that was weird is that on Monday, I was just asking the med aide, if she knew how this woman was doing. And then that afternoon/evening, she passed away. Why was I suddenly thinking about her specifically that day?

Maybe it’s because all of this happened at once, that I am feeling extra emotional about it. I’m not sure. I just had to write it to get it out of my head. Now I need a smoke break and then maybe I can sleep. Here’s to hoping my aunt and uncle are back in bed (they are home again), and don’t come out of there room. It’s not been confirmed whether they know I’m smoking again, and I’m still a bit paranoid about what their reaction will be when and if it gets confirmed.

Here’s to hoping sleep comes fast!
Devin