Time for loneliness, already?

Once I wrote about my fear of getting infected after a needle stab and one of my readers wrote me an exhaustive comment about it and my perception of it, how I saw it distorted when I talked about fear of the death. She wrote me that the death was not actually what I was afraid of but loneliness which foregoes it in that case, was.

In that case, in every case.

There is so much frustration that I carry within myself because things aren’t working out as planned and my time is running out. Not only my time, but everyone’s else. I hate it when I wait for my day to end because I can’t do anything good for myself or for anyone else. That is the same pattern as life passing. Life equals time. If you just sit and watch it goes away you’re already dead.

Life is passing either way, but the time should be spent as best as it could be.

My time is passing in other people’s dirty mouths day by day. They swear, they don’t want to listen, they blame you for things they don’t want to acknowledge etc and that is – fine. It is a job. Some days are great, some other aren’t. But you’re not your job, you finish it and you come home, sit and relax, watch TV, spend some time with your friends.

I am so lonely.

I have time for myself and I can’t share it with anyone. No one wants it.

Couple of times it happened that I was sitting in a company of couple of friends of mine and they were all chit chatting but no one actually asked me how was my day or what am I doing these days but also I couldn’t flow in the type of conversation they were having or ask anyone anything. I just sat there. Those weren’t my topics and I weren’t their participant.

I came back in my town after studies ended and I sadly got it – I have no one here. I can hardly fit in here after all those years. From the moment I came back I just keep facing obstacles where ever I get. I miss Capitol again.

The two closest friends here are those who I love but we simply can’t work out anymore. And I can’t stand it. Sometimes I have the feeling that they are eating me.

Today I cried a lot. I can’t explain why. It just happened. I’m so unsatisfied. And that dissatisfaction comes from my loneliness. I can’t pretend to be someone else just to fit in. I saw that I’m different from my two friends but I never wanted for those differences to become barriers. I always tried to encourage them to finish their studies once and for all, to feel pretty and to be more confident and be more free spirited and less closed minded, to smile more and be funny a little more, but no, every time I’d try to propose some reasonable change or thing to do they’d just slap me down with some idiotic excuse like: “we don’t deserve a good time”, “we are not pretty and attractive enough”, “no one likes us”, “we’re transparent for other boys”, “everyone’s avoiding us”, “we don’t have good company”, “we shouldn’t go anywhere”, “oh, no, I don’t know what to do with my exams, I hope it will be finished soon”,”we’re so unsuccessful” etc.

What irritates me the most is the thing that all of their insecurities are named under the same “WE”. There’s no us. I’m not ugly, I’m not unattractive, I’m not lazy, I’m not stupid and I do deserve a quality free time. I do a job for no money that can at some point become high risky and often is stressful, because all of their (patient’s) screams and tensity I carry with myself and live with it although I can’t actually feel it at it’s fullest now. I’m not sitting at home and waiting for my time to pass while I avoid studying for the exams that should’ve been done long time ago. No one’d give me that amount of money in exchange for doing nothing about it. I have no time for myself because I can’t sit alone in a bar or travel alone to relax myself. I need people who’d encourage me and also those who’d accept my help and advice and accept it as something good. I don’t want to put anyone down and I hate when someone is doing it to me just because they’re too lazy to change themselves into something better. It’s easier to think that you’re ugly and unsuccessful and just let things be as they are; if they fix by themselves – oh, goody; if they don’t – oh, misery, I’ll die alone feeding ten cats.

I hate lack of action. I hate when people don’t want to take care of themselves. I hate when they’re lazy and blame all the others for their own misery, but at the same point they’re stressing their closest people. Why do you tell me that you’re ugly, that WE’re ugly, unsuccessful, saw as transparent by other males? Whenever I mention how I miss Capitol one of them says to me: “Well, it’s not like you actually enjoyed there, you never found a partner there, right?” Is it all there is? A partner? The Capitol is not a personal ad, a finding mate site or something like that.

“We shouldn’t go anywhere, we don’t deserve it. We never went farther than town outskirts” – it is the answer whenever I suggest that we should go somewhere for a weekend or a vacation, but at the same time they point at people who actually do travel or spend their time in a suitable way.

I see it as a constant circle of underrating. It is not ok to underestimate yourself but if you do it, then do it to yourself but don’t do it to other one who’s trying to help you in a decent way.

You’re throwing away your precious time because it is easier for you to complain than to do something about it and when it comes to male problem, then you say you’re unattractive. OF course you are. You have nothing to say, nothing good or interesting. You lived in the City for five years and you still can’t name the streets from the old neighbourhood and not to mention something more that was offered there. And after all the advice I gave to you to help you feel better and activate yourself a little bit, all you’ve done was griping me how transparent, ugly and stupid WE are. I have to carry it all out, all those complaints, misery and bad mood, because YOU don’t want to do something to change it.

Last night, one of them told me: “people are avoiding us, like they’re running away from us”. If you ask me, right now – I would run away from you.


 

I feel so alone. Besides feeling alone I also feel like I’m doing things the wrong way. I have strong will to leave this town. I’ve never felt more alone and miserable than I am now. I miss company. The one I once had. I miss so many things and I can’t find them here. And somehow if I stay here I’ll drown. More than anything I’d like to live the life in the Capitol as I used to.

Writing here helps me keep myself together. I have to tell it, to write it down, to analyse it. It’s never unsolvable. But the time flies. It’s one of my greatest fears. I don’t want to regret anything. There are lots of things out there that can be experienced and felt and many people are waiting to be met. I’m afraid of pointless wait. Chances are all around us and it is sad if they’re being willingly missed.

I need someone. One person. One good person who’d be nice to me, who’d appreciate me. Who’d see options instead of dead ends. Who’d live for the moment the same way that I would. I don’t even know who I miss actually. It’s 5:30 already…

Pointless importance

I’m having a bad time.

This week I stabbed myself accidentally on the  needle that was already used. I got panicked. One day had to pass to get a bit of false relief and to convince myself that I knew who was that patient, although I knew nothing actually about her.

I stopped thinking. There’s no need to. If it’s my time – the be it.

Other thing I’m facing during my volunteering is again, inequality and lack of protection. As a volunteer I must listen to present doctor, who’s only 3 years older than I am. In return, I get 0% support from her side questioning some  professional issues.

There was one older doctor who went on a vacation and let me finish the treatment of  one of her patients. The patient came last week, although she was quite distrustful towards me. I explained her that there’s nothing to worry about, although I’m young, I’ve done those things a lot. I did the first step in treatment, and scheduled her for another one. The next time she came she made a complaint about me to another, present doctor, the one who’s a bit older than myself, to tell her how her head and neck are now in pain regarding to tooth therapy I applied, because she’s  neck discus injuries. I tried to explain to her that teeth has nothing to do with head or neck pains. It never happens because of the teeth, so she should see another therapist who deals with this kind of symptoms. BUT. BUT. BUT. I was rudely cut off by my older colleague who said: “Well, she’ll do it faster this time!” just to shake her off. She didn’t step on my side, trying to explain to the patient the real situation, but by that way accepted all what patient has said as true and put me in a bad position as a person who doesn’t know what she’s doing, beside she’s the one who actually mistreated the patient.

So, I finished my part of the job somehow and there was just cavity left to be filled. But at some point of this week patient comes rudely telling again that her tooth is in pain because “a student did it” and that she’s demanding another appointment for the cavity filling, since her ear is in pain also. Then my colleague doctor said: “OK.”

This answer had several meanings. OK – we’ll do what you say, although we are therapists and you’re a janitor in a local school. OK – you’re right, my younger colleague really doesn’t know what she has been doing and no one’s monitoring her. OK – we’ll listen to you and we won’t try to explain it to you in the manner you’d understand it. It is normal to feel some kind of discomfort to pain sensations in these situations, but my older colleague never wanted us to bother with her or her to gain our trust…

Although, the RTG said the tooth I treated was in a good state, filled and non – vital. The patient kept telling that her ear is in pain because of it. My colleague just didn’t want to listen. And I’m in a position where I MUST listen to her… She let patient leave without exploring what is the real problem that is bothering her. Again, it is another confirmation of my bad practice…

The pain patient suffered was real. It originated from some other structure, such us ear, temporomandibular joint or – another vital tooth from the opposite jaw which had pulpitis – inflamed pulp (nerve).

During this week patient visited another doctor who took out the filling I’ve put in that tooth. She took out the material and work I’ve put in it and she doesn’t even know who am I. It didn’t bring any relief. She came back to our dental office, still accusing me of mistreating her. My colleague said nothing in my defense. Absolutely nothing. Patient started practicing her own medicine so she’s put onion in that tooth because she’d heard that it’d help. Also she started taking anitbiotics by herself. My colleague took the treated tooth out, under the compassionate explanation that “she doesn’t want to molest the patient since she really understands what she’s been going through”. Which means that I screwed. I molested the patient. She’s the life-saver.

The tooth is out now. Nothing happened. Pain remained.

But, this patient was also a psychiatric patient… We saw that in her medical record the last time she visited us.

So the situation is like this – a psychiatric patient mislead two of my colleagues in a wrong treatment direction and both of them passed over my opinion so easily, so as my skill and presence. Although the lady wasn’t quite right, she gave them enough information to distinguish which structure is in pain, or better said, which one isn’t.

When I asked my colleague why did she take the tooth out she gave me no reply. She was quiet. I deserve no explanation. No apology. Even if I were wrong I deserve to know where I made a mistake. If I were right, I believe one small act of reasonable communication would be enough. At least. She gives no **** about that patient. Me neither, but I care about my work. I’ve done it and I’ve put an effort to do it right.

It is not about them, those two colleagues, or about me. It is about professionalism. We should be all united under the same goal and treat all the patients same, no matter if they’re insane or not. By listening to each other we keep our profession high without other, laic interfering.

I hate subjectivity. They all think it is about them. That they are important instead of what they do.

Restless

I’ve been reading some posts recently about family and relationships and how complex and related these two can be while shaping one’s personality. Family dictates relationships. Family is the place where we learn how to treat others, how to behave and how to form social patterns. You represent your family.

It is not only about the spoken and directed instructions, but also about imposed role models. There are things that we inherit and the things that we look at or listen everyday, so those become our behavioral models. We adopt them wanted or not and represent them in our adolescence and later in adulthood.

When the models are bad, you’re bad even if you’re not being aware of it. But you try your best still because someone explained and rooted into you that a certain thing is a good thing.

Looking inside myself I can name all the bad things I have adopted from both of my parents. Some characteristics are disgusting for me and I believe that others can see them very well. I’m afraid of it.

I think that in my family we’re all living in an illusion. On one side there’s my mother who’s so transparent. She affects only a little. There’s my father on the other who neglects us. A lot.

Talking about role models what I could adopt from him was poor behavior and relation to others, not appreciating anyone in current surrounding or doing it in a very rough way, selfishness as an usual act, no tolerance and underestimating other people, alcohol issues. That’s what he offered to me.

As nothing is black and white, I can only thank him for giving me the money with which I used to live one fine life here, paid my university and vacations, gave me home to live in. But there’s a gap that I can feel between us and it is so dark.

I’ll explain this as a girl. As a feminine confronted by other man, the close one. When I was about eight years old some of the girls in the class had their hair done by lightening hair strands. I asked my mother to do the same for me, so she took one strand and made it lighter. It was nice and I was so happy and proud to have that strand, but my father called me a slut, although I was only eight. That happened in front of my mother so I asked what does that mean and she started an argue. If you ask me that was a mild reaction of my mother since it ended soon and affected my father 0%. Later on I learned the meaning of the word so I can call this my first unfair defeat.

When I was about 12 he got home drunk and beaten me up with a cable for no reason. He broke my glasses. I told that to my mother and then again she made an argue about it. So when he got sober he made one quiet apologize to me and continued to whistle.  Basically, nothing happened to me in a physical manner, although it looks a bit dramatic, but I felt jeopardized inside. I learnt that he can do that just because he want to and it is ok, and it will pass, but I can’t feel free in my own home. Again I lacked mother’s support.

When I was 15 he took my dog away from me because he wanted to. It was a big one, Dalmatiner. The dog was sad and melancholic in our home because no one would walk him. I wanted but he was too strong so I needed help. Besides, he wasn’t vaccinated. Whenever I asked for money for vaccine he’d answer ironically: “well pay it with your own money”. The dog was always locked in his fenced place in the back yard. He was howling and that bothered neighbors. Twice, he managed to get away. Both times we found him, but my father wouldn’t let go of his idea of how the dog should be kept so he put him in a trailer and drove him to countryside and let him go. I was so depressed. He never listened to me and he never wanted us to take care about the dog although he brought him… Month and a half after that the dogcathers found him. They called father first because he’s a vet. They asked if he’d maybe like to take the dog back since it is a quality breed etc. He told them to kill the dog… This makes me sad even today for various reasons. Not only that he didn’t care about my emotions at all but he didn’t care for that dog either, so he just killed him. If he thought he’d never manage to take care of him, he shouldn’t has bought him at first place.

At 21 we shopped together by chance in a local drug market, when he molested a female marketeer in front of me. I was sad and humiliated and felt bad in front of all the people who heard it and saw it. I tried to ask him what was he doing, what is wrong with him when we got out but he just laughed. Later, he made fun of it, of myself and my reaction when we got home…

At the age of 24 I’ve met a boy who I liked at first. But at some point of dating he called me a “gold digger“. I didn’t take it to my heart because I believe you must be quite of an idiot if you call a person you date like that. Soon after that ended I took my Swedish course that autumn, because I wanted to convince myself, beside I liked the language,  that I also have a purpose, that I’m progressing and that I’m good and hard working and that I have a merit. My father’s comment was: ” You’re throwing our money away, it won’t use you, why are you doing it?”. Never mind. I continued doing it for almost two years. At some point in the autumn I was about to go on a friend’s birthday party. It wasn’t that cold although it was October so I wore jeans and jacket and heels. When my father saw me like that he called me “a gold digger”. I’m not sure did he know what that means actually, but  again I felt bad. It is the second time that someone calls me like that, no more no less, but a person who brought me up, who should be my protector and who should teach me how to deal with all those rude comments made by other unknown men, but no, he stepped on their side to call me less worthy, a slut, a person who f***s for money… I felt bad. I was sad and unprotected. My mother drove me to my friend’s house from where we should be heading to a local bar or something like that. I was crying in the front seat. But her reaction again, was indefinite, even awkward. She asked me why am I crying when he meant nothing bad, it’s nothing, he wasn’t serious, those words weren’t as they sound… That wasn’t the only time he called me like that. He did it before. And my other parent never actually acknowledged that and protected me, but she silently accepted it as true…

I’m full of bad experiences in relationships with other men. I’ve never been pretty to anyone, attractive, accepted or smart. Maybe it is true that we seek for our fathers in other men we date. We seek for those characteristics of others that broke us into pieces when we were younger; we want to prove that we are different, that they are wrong, that we are not as they perceive us, that we are good and worthy, we want to heal.

I can’t compensate my bad relationship experiences at home. At home those bad experiences get confirmed and by that mean I get defeated. I am bad, worthless, shameful. Relationship experiences, same as all the other experiences. But why I highlight relationships is because it is the sphere of my life which I somehow can’t conquer, which is unclear to me and full of bad and painful emotions which I can’t explain. People are social animals. We always seek acceptance in each other. It is normal and it is in our nature. We need other people’s support. Those who are close to us. We just need them.

The same thing repeated when I started with my Hungarian language lessons. The father said: “it’s pointless, you’re not smart enough to learn it. I can’t actually see that you’re progressing…”

But I do. I will leave once because my inner self is suffering. I need to protect the kid in me. She’s crying because she’s at her best and again called shameful, offending names by others especially, those who should be on her side. I keep comforting her that she is pretty and smart and good; that she has a big heart and that she is better than all those people who tend to trip her. But still, she can’t be fixed completely. There are things that she’ll bring with herself wherever she goes.

What’s interesting was one dream I’ve been dreaming a lot while I was about 4 or 5. It repeated for years and that’s how I remembered it so well. Beside, it was unpleasant. It kept tormenting me and I couldn’t understand it quite right until recently. It was about my dad and I, we were driving in a car. He parked the car in front of a health center in my town, where there was a small parking lot. We got outside the car when he told me: “Wait for me, I’ll come back for you”. Then he came back in the car and left. I saw him leaving, but it was foggy around me. So I got scared and tried to look up for him and come back home. I was wandering that foggy street. There was no one, it was all cloudy and grey, all the doors and windows were closed, as if it was abandoned. I was still wandering. The scenes kept repeating. There was no one and I was going round and round. And then I’d wake up. It was one of the most unpleasant dreams I’ve ever had and I kept dreaming it over and over again for some time. I would be sad every time I’d wake up. That feeling of being abandoned scared me a lot. Once I told him about the dream, but he laughed at it: “I’d never leave you like that.” So my adult self must laugh to this, in return.

Speaking again about the idea of girls seeking father figures in other men they date scares me. I don’t want someone to disrespects me. I have emotions and I can say or do lot of things. I’m not just someone. At least I wouldn’t like to spend my life beside a person who treats me just as “someone”or even worse. Knowing that this pattern could transfer to my partner life with someone scares me. I don’t want to live life that way. It is awful and sad. I don’t need that kind of relationship neither that kind of person.

 

Look at me with the eyes of a child

I’m not a political person neither an activist. It doesn’t matter who I am or who anyone here is as long as we’re all progressing.

I don’t love my country. I’m not a patriot.

There’s a song in my language which goes like this: “Ovo je Zemlja za nas, ovo je Zemlja za sve naše ljude. Ovo je kuća za nas, ovo je kuća za svu našu decu…”

“This is the Land for all of us, this is the Land for all our people, this is home for us, this is the home for all of our children…”

 

This home is for none of our children. For a long time now.

Our grown ups hate us. They neglect us and give us nothing but on contrary, they steal from us. I don’t blame only politicians but the everyday people who we see on the streets, who we help, who we work for. They hate us. But still, they want to take all from us. And all of us.

There are two types of young people in my country. One large group tries its best to leave and many of them are succeeding. They might be smart, talented or simply hard working (which is one great trait), but excluded from our biting society and under the impact of many malicious comments and critics by those who humiliated them and left them no other choice. The second ones are those who are still here. They either have no will or no where else to live, so they continue to despair in their own misery, devastated. Or some of them like the situation as it is.cf779a56a414a0cd4bf3c3d568037d06

And the adults, they try nothing to stop the leaving ones, to lift the desperate ones and to give a good example for those mindless; but to mark them as less intelligent, useless and spoiled.

Sometimes they do these stuff directly. What they taught us?

  1. 1. That there is no protection. Someone can steal from you and get away unpunished. That sends you a clear message: your worth is 0 and you mean nothing. Whatever you have or do is worthless. That no one cares for you or your material or intellectual belongings.
  2. That there is no reasonable evaluation. Quality is being pushed aside. You can be God-knows-how brilliant, but you won’t succeed because that’s not important.  What is important is how good you can lie and how many people you can trample by one foot.
  3. You’re a joke. If you’re trying – you’re a joke, they’ll make fun of you.
  4. If you’re young plus woman…That opens a whole new spectrum of ideas how bad you are at something…Balkans… I already explained how much do I hate gender prejudices…. I remember once, I was 23. Police stopped my car, “just for a check up”. Although everything was fine it ended up with molesting, threats and gender based insults just because I didn’t get that I should give them (there were 2 of them) some money. I’m not talking about a fine, but about money. No, I didn’t know I should. But if’d tell someone that I didn’t know, they’d laugh at me, because it is completely usual and fine to give money to the police in order for them not to molest you. Even if you’ve done nothing. It is normal for you to surrender. It is normal for them to take it from you instead to protect you from experiencing it.
  5. That we’re irrelevant and underrated. If you’re on a position, earned by your scholar degree, to give a person advice related to a problem they have – they won’t listen to you because you’re too young and therefore too stupid. They’ll check your legal advice first at fortuneteller’s.
  6. That we have no right to have a home, since they’re selling all of our land.

And we’re bad because we’re leaving.

Our adults left us long before we did.

****

I started to volunteer at local health center. It was everything but voluntarily. Besides that I work for no money, my aunt called me happily to announce that she talked to health center director and mentioned our relation, since they two are in the same party. By her story, couple of months ago she was blackmailed to join the party or else she’ll lose the job. Something similar happened some time earlier when my father tried to trick me to join a party and get a job in Capital.

No one asked me anything.

But my aunt also made an addition in order to remind me to “be polite and behave while I’m in health center, to be good with patients and assistants, because director appreciates it”. That probably means that I’m bad behaved and rude most of my time, but now I must show myself in a very good manner in order to get the job. I must impress those who already undervalued me and the rest of us. 

How do they see me? Do they see me at all?

How do they see all of us?

Am I the person with no option and how funny is it? Do I have qualities at all?

And those often reminders of how should I behave in order to be “better” and “accepted”.

You should be more polite. You should be more polite. You should be more polite…

You should be more polite in order to join the party made by scum so they can provide a job for you since you’re a sack of garbage. Then you’ll be good and useful.

In the Land for all of our children….