#weird days

On the last day I was there, one of the folks I served fell down, and she needed to be rushed to the hospital. I was in the kitchen washing dishes and keeping an eye on the food I prepared as it awaited being fed to those who haven't eaten yet. The fall took place in a different room, from which I've no line of sight to, because it is behind two walls, which also creates a sound barrier. Unless someone is shouting loudly, it's very difficult to hear anything over the water while you're at the sink, unless the sound comes from the dining room or from immediately behind me. So I didn't even realize, while washing the dishes, that anything was wrong, until the shift lead shouted to the other staff for help with what occurred.

I stopped doing dishes then, because something was wrong, and positioned myself near the waiting food, attentive to any requests that might be made to me. That said, due to the fact that food waiting to be eaten was out, I couldn't leave the kitchen; doing as such is unsafe for the other people who live in the house, who sometimes curiously get into things that are not meant for them to get into. So the staff lead and the other staff present handled everything while I kept watch on the kitchen, per standard procedure.

I wrote a statement about what I witnessed on that day, which is also standard procedure. Then, the other day, I got a call from the house manager, asking me to come in today to be interviewed by someone who is investigating the incident. I agreed to come, so today I went, arriving 15 minutes before the agreed-upon time, just in case.

Initially, I was worried that this was some kind of fault-finding endeavor. So I told the woman who came (who was apparently worried that I'd be late, and was then, herself, almost half an hour late...) what I saw (which was very little), and then showed her where I was at the time it happened, where the awaiting food was, and where I positioned myself after I was made aware that something was wrong. I followed standard procedure. The other two who were with me also followed standard procedure. So I wrote a more detailed statement to that end, noting the limitations of my physical position in the house at the time of occurrence, and my dedication to keeping the other inhabitants of the home safe while the other two staff handled the incident quickly and effectively.

As I understand it, the purpose of this was to document the incident in such a way as to make it clear that it was sudden, accidental, and decidedly not the result of carelessness on anyone's part. It is not the expectation that we prevent any and all accidents; we literally can't. It is the expectation that we respond immediately and appropriately to accidents, though, and we did. As I understand it, the data will be used to update support plans and then implement those updates, which is ultimately good.

I followed it all up by advocating, once more, that the staff minimums be raised from 3 to 4 in that house. Hopefully this will be some kind if wake-up call to upper management. But who knows.

I went home and prepared myself the last of that Da Hong Pao tea. Sweetened it with honey, balanced it with a bit of goat milk that I foamed up by shaking it:

I drank the tea and then I ate, and then... a friend sent a meditation that's supposed to help me to feel more calm in my body, and encouraged me to take some time to tend to myself and do the meditation, given all the things happening. So... ya know. That's what I did. I went up to my room, closed the door, shut off my phone, and... tried really hard not to feel guilty about making myself inaccessible. Because normally, I... put a lot of pressure on myself to be available at all times to all the people I'm connected to at the drop of a hat, just in case of... something I don't know what.

...I think I'm going to have to stop putting that kind of pressure on myself though... I... don't think it's very good for me. But it feels like a hard thing to stop doing, because... I think, still, that part of me imagines that I can't be liked outside of my usefulness to others at any given time. And if I'm not available to be useful to someone, then... maybe there won't be an incentive for them to tolerate the annoyance of my presence anymore...?

...Old thoughts are old. But they still manage to get some kind of chokehold on me from time to time. Very annoying. I'm hoping that taking some time for myself to meditate will fill my memories with experiences that prove these fears wrong. I don't live anymore in the fucked-up, horrifying place I came from. And I'm tired of the ghosts of those memories haunting me all the fucken time, so... it's high time that I do something about them instead of cowering in the fucking corner as though I'm still a helpless child in the face of these old shadows.

I suppose I didn't realize just how much I needed time to myself in which I focused on my breath instead of focusing on a screen or on some thing that someone else made, or on someone else's emotional needs, or on the innumerable tasks that need doing in my immediate vicinity, or... any number of things. I didn't realize just how badly I needed to let my physical vessel drop the hypervigilance for once, and let my nervous system come down from high alert.

And... importantly? Nothing fell apart while I was deliberately shifting my focus away from worrying, planning, thinking ahead, or trying to anticipate and calculate all the fucken things all the fucken time. I don't live in a world where I have to cling to shit to keep it from falling apart anymore, because for once, the adults around me are loving and reliable, instead of being emotionally immature, frightened, angry, entitled toddlers stuck in adult bodies, expecting the child who came from their loins to be grateful for every possible opportunity to serve their egos, solve their problems, or be slave to their fucking whims.

Growing up in an abusive, controlling household where you don't count as a human being, aren't allowed to have needs, feelings, or wants, and get violently punished every time you're even slightly imperfect or inconvenient is a real fucking trip. But you know something? I'm the adult now. I get to choose between getting better, or wallowing in, “this is who I am now and I'll never be able to do different because I'm oh-so-set-in-my-ways.” And I've seen what the complacency in the second one does to the people around the person wallowing, because I've been on the receiving fucking end of it, and... I have to choose to do better, because the alternative is me ending up doing to everyone else the same bullshit that was done to me. I won't be like the people who tore me apart for their own comfort, because I'm still putting myself back together, and I don't wanna be the reason someone else has to spend years putting themselves back together.

So I'm going to practice the meditation every day for at least the next week, so I can teach my body that letting go of the hypervigilance is safe. That resting is safe. That not being available to everyone's expectations and requests all the time... is safe.

I breathed life into today's wishes for ya shortly after I was done:

And now... I'm going to play some video games while I wait for my dear friend A to come by for his weekly visit. I don't know exactly what I'm gonna play yet, but... you can hang out with me here when I do:

I love you so much, and I hope you know it. I hope you feel it in all the ways I try to learn and grow in your name, even if I mess it up, or if progress is slow, or if I end up backsliding into old patterns. I'll try to remember that regression is evidence that there has been progress. And... I hope you'll remember some such things while you're trying to learn and grow out there, too.

I'll write again tomorrow. In the meantime, I'll have faith in your safety while you're out and about. I'll have faith that you're on your way home.

The day had started out oddly enough and then had gotten progressively weirder. First, you had walked into class only to find a stack of random vegetables on your desk. There wasn’t even a note or anything. And when you looked around, hoping to find who was responsible, no one seemed to acknowledge it, all continuing with their conversations as if a desk full of vegetables was normal. Since no one else had seemed to pay it any attention, you just ignored it also, tossing them in the trash and proceeding forward with your day.

Random vegetables on their own could be chopped up to some weird prank or an accident. But when you returned from the bathroom during your lunch break, you noticed another weird object on your desk.

Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a lunchbox, and when you had opened it, there was a stench so foul seeping out from withing it had almost made you gag. You immediately slammed it shut and left to take it to the lost and found. It appeared that someone must have left their lunch at school over a period of a few days, and one of your classmates must have found it and had put it on your desk, assuming it was yours.

The final strange occurrence was when you were packing up your bag to leave when one of the kids who sat next to you, Yashiro, had walked up to you after calling your name. He was nervously fidgeting on both feet. Unable to maintain eye contact for more than a few seconds before adjusting his gaze to look at your shoes before he finally spoke up.

“I was the person leaving strange things on your desk.” He explained, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, catching you by surprise.

So it wasn’t an accident after all? Yashiro was doing it on purpose. It didn’t make sense to you. You both hardly ever spoke to each other, why would he leave weird objects on your desk for you. You were just about to press for more answers when he continued. “I left those things for you because...I like you Y/N.” Yashiro confessed.