The Day I Lost It.

Well here we are again. I just took a second to read through the very few posts I've got on here, and realized I REALLY should keep up with this on a weekly basis. I know there's a whole heck of a lot more that I've encountered that's worth remembering, including the following story.

I visited a school last year to interview a boy about possible domestic violence going on in his home between his mom and her boyfriend. Typical, really. What I was really trying to figure out is if the boyfriend was still in the home, and getting that from this little boy (I'd say he was around 8 years old....possibly 9) would help determine whether we needed to step in and help resolve the situation.

Well. I got to the school and asked to see the kid, and the school had a different first name on file for him, but they knew who I was talking about. So that was strange, but helped me realize the mom had changed his name, possibly to avoid having contact with the boyfriend, or allowing him to find them. Good move, Mom. 2 points for you. The interview commences.

One thing I always do is ask kids who they live with. This boy tells me he lives with his mom and sometimes his sister. Me: "What's your sister's name?" Boy: "Sissy." Me: "Oh OK you call her Sissy? What does your mom call her?" Boy: "Stupid."

Mind you, I've been talking to this boy for a few minutes already, the whole time with his back facing me. Because that's how he turned to sit when he came into the room? No. Because that's the direction the chair was facing, and he just didn't feel like turning it around. So his back is to me, and my co-worker (again, Tricia) is actually behind me. The second this boy tells me/us that his mom calls his sister "Stupid", Tricia starts to lose it. And I mean, trying not to laugh because it's unprofessional, but can't stop laughing because this interview is about to fall completely apart and we both know it, so it's time to laugh harder. I can hear her behind me, holding in her laugh, so naturally I start to giggle. And then it becomes uncontrollable for a second, but we manage to gain our composure. Or, Tricia manages to quiet her laughs long enough for me to ask the kid who his dad is, or if his mom has a boyfriend or husband. And it begins again...

This boy tells me that he has a dad, but that he died. Now that's not funny, so the laughs immediately stop, and we're able to be serious. Me: "Oh no, how did that happen?" Boy: "He died in the war." Me: "Oh, gosh. In the Iraq War?" Boy: "No. My mom said it was World War II, but I think it was World War I." Hysteria back. In full force. I'm trying to keep the interview going with this boy, because I still don't have what I need, and he eventually tells us that "It's not funny! I'm not lying!" and we both agree, but are still laughing, and at this point wiping tears from our cheeks. This had to be the most unprofessional, uncontrollable, ridiculous moment I've had during the course of this job. And it remains one of my favorites :)

Luckily, this interview took place near the end of the school day, and the secretary had to tell us that the children were being dismissed and he had to get his backpack and go home. Well, we didn't have good contact information for his mom, but knew his grandma would be picking him up from school, either in a brown truck or red Firebird. We told the boy to get his backpack and come back to the office so he could take us to his grandma's car to get his mom's phone number and most recent address. A few minutes passed, and still no boy. In the parking lot, though, was a red Firebird, with a woman in the driver's seat and a little boy in the passenger seat....who looked strikingly similar to the little boy we just sat and laughed at for 20 minutes.....trying to crouch down and hide from us as he sees us walking toward the car. Needless to say, we got his mom's phone number, and through the investigation we determined that he was safe at home, with no violent men in his life. 2 thumbs up.

Again, I tell you, this stuff cannot be made up.

A day in the (not so normal) life.

Perhaps I need to have better self discipline if I plan to use this blog as my memory regarding the craziness I encounter every day. A bit has passed since I last posted, and I've already forgotten the majority of what I've encountered, but here goes another "day in the life..."

So we made a few visits today to a few houses with semi-normal people. Semi, meaning not so much. First house wasn't bad, but was definitely mentally exhausting. It's amazing how easily confused I can get when other people are talking gibberish, thinking they actually make sense. What I'm still fascinated by is how people are so quick to think they'll get me to change my mind about what I'm saying but I don't budge, then when I tell them everything they don't want to hear, they end up saying "yeah I see what you mean. that makes sense." ?? Now I'm not complaining, but how can somebody be SO SURE about what they're saying, and confident that I'll do what they're asking me to do, then with a few circular conversations about the same topic with different wording, they're convinced that I'm right. Of course we all know that I'm always right, but the level of influence that comes with tone of voice and just the right amount of confidence is incredible. Oh, did I mention the pictures of the penis the woman at the first house showed us, accompanying them with "This is what my ex-husband was sending to what he thought was a 12 year old girl, telling her it was him". Had to tell her that if those pictures were him, I wouldn't be going to talk to him ever in life. She claims they weren't. Doesn't take away from the guy still being a creep.

Second house we visit, after we've sat at the above stated woman's kitchen table for an hour, essentially arguing with her for the entire time, is a family with ethnic names that could've been pronounced the "American" way, but really should've been pronounced the "Mexican" way. This is "my" way of not knowing the appropriate/politically correct way to say "we were pretty much a couple of rednecks in some Mexicans' living room". The rolled "r", accents on the tail end of the names, and spellings that are used for both ethnicities but pronounced differently, are not a good idea to throw at us in 98* weather at 4:00 in the afternoon. I'm not sure how many names Tricia (co-worker) threw at this family before she finally broke down and said "I can't pronounce your/hers/his name right and it makes me mad that I can't say it like you". But I think the best part about it was as we were walking out the door, Tricia asked what their chihuahua's name is. Answer? Fluffy.

Now let's rewind a few days and visit a home with a teenager that has multiple developmental delays. This teenager is a friendly kid, but I really do sometimes wish I could crawl inside his head to figure out what's going on in there. Mid-conversation about being abused, the kid says "Wanna see my yearbook? I have a playlist in there that I think you'd really like. Do you know the band 'Megadeath'? They sing songs like "I'M F!@#$%G MAAADDD!!!" I think you'd really like it". Ummmm, wha? OK kid, let's get back on track here....about the abuse you've been a victim of. Oh wait, but he hasn't been abused, he's bi-sexual and has been a willing participant. "Do you want some Teddy Grahams?" *shoves them toward mine & Tricia's faces*.......

I used to think it takes a special person to be subjected to this insanity and walk away at the end of the day, still able to see the good in the world and get a decent night's sleep--I'm beginning to think oblivion is contagious.

Back Again

I've decided to get back into the blog and start writing to my heart's content. Again, I couldn't figure out how to log in again, and may not remember for another 6-8 months, but I really am going to try to keep this up on a weekly, if not daily basis.

What I really want this to focus on, (since I don't have kids or a pet or a husband to write about), is the every day shenanigans I face through the wonderful world of DHS. I'm hoping to be able to recall most/all of the events from each week, because honestly, it's never anything any person could make up, and most things that happen should be remembered forever, just to allow myself a good laugh every now and then, and to appreciate 10 years from now the amazing life I've had the privilege of living.

With that said, I'll start with today. Went to court this afternoon. Had to be there to hear testimony from a doctor in the Child Abuse Unit at Children's Hospital. Got into the courtroom and had to sit through a few delinquency hearings, one of which involved a teenage girl, I'd say around 14 years old. She was there to see about getting an alternate placement because being at the detention facility apparently wasn't working out for her. Her mom was on speaker phone, asking the judge to allow the girl to come home, promising she'd "be good" and they'd "keep an eye on her" until another placement is found. The judge came back with telling the mom he couldn't trust that her God awful daughter (not his words) would "be good", considering she was facing a probation violation for attacking her dad with a knife. The girl begged to be allowed to go home, and she too promised to be good, especially if they put her on a tether. Judge didn't go for it, and remanded the girl to lock-up until they could find another place for her to go.

Here comes the interesting part. This girl, after begging and pleading with the judge to allow her to return home because she'd be good and she knows she "messed up", ends up refusing to stand up from her chair. She starts crying and screaming "I want to go home!! I'm not standing up!!" and to the Sheriff's deputy "Get off me! Get your hands off me!" as he's trying to get her to stand up and cuff her. He gets her to stand up. Gets one cuff on her. She gets her other hand away, so he slams her into the witness box, face first, smacking her face on the corner of the judge's stand, and gets her other hand in the cuffs. She kept screaming as they took her down the hall and back to lock-up, there was some crashing and banging heard, and the judge says "Well, I think I made the right decision on that one". And called the next case to the table.

In what world does it make it normal to watch all this go down, then continue with the rest of the afternoon as if nothing had just happened?

Stay tuned, kids. A day in the field with a co-worker never ceases to end with some very interesting stories. And some of those stories aren't even about the clients....

From April to September

Well when I last wrote, I was unemployed. I swore up and down I'd have a job by April 30 and reassured everybody who posed the question "What if...?" that they had nothing to worry about as far as my employment status was concerned.

April 30 came, and I still wasn't working. So I bought a 1-way plane ticket to Denver and left Michigan on May 28. After 5 solid months of unemployment and only 2 interviews that entire time, I was ready to start over. Ready to re-build my life as my life, not as anybody else's. I had started to feel too comfortable living at home, not working, spending more time trying to help raise my nephews than I was trying to find a job. I was OK with not working. Until I realized I'd be running out of unemployment in June and needed to do something....fast. So I packed up some boxes and shipped them to Denver. Piled the rest of my stuff into my suitcases, and hopped on a plane the Wednesday after Memorial Day. When I bought the ticket, I was ready. I couldn't wait to get out, to experience everything new, to start working and re-building myself.

And then it came down to 3 days before I was supposed to leave, and I almost bailed. I had to call my mom and tell her to remind me why I was moving. I couldn't fathom why I ever thought it would be a good idea to pack up my belongings and leave everyone and everything I always knew to be so safe and comforting. But I knew if I didn't go, I'd regret it forever and would still be in Jackson, wishing I had done what I always said I would do.

The first couple of weeks in Denver were rough. I won't lie about that. I realized I had left a lot more back home than I ever could have imagined. I knew I wouldn't be 10 minutes away from Dave and Ehrin, or 45 from Troy and Adrienne. I knew I wouldn't see my parents every day like I had for the last 7 months. I knew I wouldn't be able to walk nextdoor to Gramma Judy's and have a snack with the kids. And I knew I couldn't just call up Grandma & Grandpa to grab lunch at Anna's and play cards for the afternoon. I was prepared for that. What I wasn't prepared for was the fact that I was forced to realize that I wasn't complete without my family within arms reach. I had to admit to myself that I needed to be with them. I had to own up to the fact that I really wasn't programmed to move away from everybody and start over completely, forever. I wasn't prepared for that. My initial "I'll try it for a year" turned into "We'll see how I feel after Christmas". I wasn't sure I'd make it until May 2009. I would miss Blaine's 2nd birthday, Colin's 5th, Eli's 3rd....and shoot, Grace was born while I was in Denver--she'd be almost a year old by the time I made it home for good, and that would only be if I could land a job back home! All I could really do was hope and pray that everyone in Denver was right, and that my feeling of "What have I done?" would fade soon enough. I wanted it to work. I wanted to be able to say at my 10 year reunion "Yeah I'm living in Denver now...I've been there for 3 years--best decision I ever made." But I didn't know if it would happen.

My first day of work, Ehrin had Grace and it really started to feel like my world was crumbling. I didn't know when I'd be able to get home to see her, if not until Wheatland in September, and I couldn't stand the thought of that. I started looking into plane tickets for mid-July and decided I'd wait for one more paycheck before buying one. Two days after Grace was born, I got a call from the State of Michigan, wanting to know if I could interview for one of the jobs I had applied for back in January. Seriously. I moved May 28th. I got the phone call to interview on June 15th. If only that call could've come 2 months earlier. Needless to say, I booked a flight for the weekend they'd be interviewing and I went home to see Grace and give the State of Michigan my best smile and interview tactics. One month after I interviewed, they checked my references. Two weeks later, on Monday, August 25, they hired me. Perfect. I'd be home in two weeks for Wheatland and could officially tell everybody I'd be moving back. That was the happiest I'd been since before I left home to begin with.

Everybody in Denver thought I was crazy. "But you just got here!" "What do you want to go back to Michigan for? Colorado is awesome." I couldn't give an answer that anybody would understand. My life has much more to do with my family than a lot of other peoples' lives do, I've realized. I'm close to my siblings. I'm close to my parents. Some of my best friends are my cousins. I know that no matter what, I will always have my family to turn to, and nobody can take that from me. People that don't have that, don't understand why it's not possible to leave that behind and be content. I know that I have to do what's best for me, and making the decision to move back to Michigan is probably one of the best decisions I've made all year.

And I can say that I did what I always said I would do. I moved away from home. I got out of Jackson. Out of Michigan. And from that, I learned that I don't belong in any other state. My friends are great, but my family is what I know I'll always have and will never judge me for doing what's right for me. I'm home now. And I'm not going anywhere.

What a difference 14 months makes...

So the last time I wrote, I was at work. Bored as usual, I decided to create a blog that after logging out of, I couldn't figure out how to log back into...until today. I'm truly not sure if I'll keep this up, as my daily obsessions with checking myspace and facebook consume most of my energy, but I can make you a promise that I will try my darndest.

Shall I give a recap of the previous 14 months? I continued on with my wonderful job for another month or so before accepting a position at the drug and alcohol rehab facility through Foote Hospital. Hours were 3rd shift, pay was hourly, benefits were equal to what I was receiving already, but the biggest difference was it guaranteed me a steady paycheck. If you know me at all, you know the mess I put up with regarding payless paydays, etc. so this was HUGE. So I worked 2 full-time jobs for a month, trying to use up all vacation and comp time at job #1 before officially leaving the position. After that month, I decided that the crazy hours, less pay, and lack of a decent job description at job #2 did not make up for the guarantee of a paycheck, so I left. Crazy, I know, but the mental state I was in was something I was not prepared for, and my only explanation was that I had accepted a job making less money and working crappy hours.

So, I was back to the grind at job #1, telling myself that I loved what I did and could put up with the questionable stability for a bit longer. Besides, I have my degree in Criminal Justice, not Substance Abuse Counseling. I didn't know how to respond to somebody at 7 a.m. when the fire alarm is going off but they refuse to leave because they're a drug addict and have no logic. Apparently, taking a crap is more beneficial than leaving a burning building. (no the building wasn't on fire...one of the residents just tried cooking breakfast and burned the bacon, but still...)

Fast forward to October. I'm at the eye doctor for my yearly exam, excited to order new glasses and have my insurance pay for them. But before I even see the doctor, the secretary tells me I don't have eye insurance and they can't see me unless I have insurance, or I pay upfront for the visit. Whaa?? Whoah Whoah Whoah. I don't know that I'll actually get paid when payday rolls around, so I definitely can't write a check for a $95 eye exam and $230 glasses. So, I call the secretary at work and she tells me they've been having some problems with the insurance and they're working on straightening things out. So I simply reschedule my eye appointment and follow up with work to make sure my health insurance truly is being straightened out. Long story short, it's April 2008 and it's still not straightened out.

Oh, did I mention I was under the impression at the end of October that things had been straightened out and saw the doctor for chest pains I'd been having? Yeah, he ran an EKG and everything, ordered an ECG for me to make sure my heart murmur wasn't anything too concerning and sent me on my way. I found out immediately after that visit that I still did not have health insurance and there was no answer for why. Currently, I'm awaiting payment for approximately $2000 in medical bills that I acquired between August 31, 2007 and December 18, 2007. I know you wish you were me.

I say December 18 and not December 31 because on December 18, 2007 at approximately 2:15 p.m. I was no longer employed by my job #1 employers. Can't give a reason why, except I was trying to figure out why I hadn't been paid in almost 3 weeks. Nobody seemed to have an answer and I got fired for wanting to know. I guess that was life lesson #2898: if you're employed by unethical, money grubbing scum, don't ask why you're not receiving payment for the 40+ hours you put in every week. I'll be sure to always research potential employer's integrity before applying. Never again will I put myself in the position to be treated so poorly. I deserve much better than that.

So here I sit, April 25, 2008, reliving the past year in a matter of sentences, hoping for a much brighter future. I've had a splendid 2008 thus far, improving my health by exercising daily (most of the time) and eating "right" (gotta be heart-healthy and cancer-preventing!) with a view all too different than I had a year ago.

As I said in the beginning, I'll do my best to continue to update more frequently, but I just can't say what will happen in the coming days, weeks, or months. Or if I'll remember how to log-in again after today...

Trying things out

So I just created this blog out of boredom at work. It's pretty amazing to sit back and think about how my day has gone, only to realize my hours spent here are taking away from precious sleep time.

Actually, I had an exceptionally difficult time rising this morning, as I believe I'm coming down with some sort of weather-change bug. Scratchy throat, runny nose, pounding brain...not so much fun, but I'll get over it...eventually.

I went to the gym lastnight, hoping to erase all calories consumed over the weekend, but something tells me my TGIFridays and Taco Bell are lingering with me for a bit longer. Of course, it never helps to eat two pieces of pizza AND macaroni and cheese after only burning 250 of the 1400 calories consumed before working out. It's an endless battle, but I will come out on top in one way or another. Figuring out how is the tough part.

On another note...I sliced my pinky open with a folder this morning. Damn, that hurt. And what's up with Britney Spears? Do people turn crazy overnight? What the crap...

It's 3:00 now, and I've got one more hour of this bologna to suffer through. Hopefully my 1 appointment of the day will show up. Probably won't. Oh well, I was 2 for 4 yesterday...o for 1 is nothing new. Good thing I'm going to the CJ Career Fair tonight in E.L. Maybe I'll find a new spot.

Stay tuned....