Post by Eira on Jul 26, 2016 17:07:15 GMT -5
In the interest of full transparency, I need to be very honest (and terrifyingly vulnerable) to the fed. If you'd prefer not to read into my personal business, please just accept my apology at how screwy things have been lately and stop reading here.
No, really, this is like EVERYTHING.
Alright, so here it is.
It's been mentioned here that things have been hard for me on the IRL front. What I've tried very hard to do is keep PCW entirely insulated from that, but events over the past month or so have thrown into sharp contrast just how poor a job I've been doing at it. Even though I've said very little here, and not even much on Facebook, PCW is feeling the effects being as I'm essentially in charge at this point.
The TL;DR is that we went over two months as a family of eight with no income.
In February, Mike (the non Murdoc partner) had a mental break bad enough that I had to pick him up from the mental health ward of a local hospital. He was deemed unfit to work until he was stabilized via medication, which is still in progress. He requires a fairly high dose of 2 medications, which need to be increased slowly. We still had one income for a while, but then place Shann was working for did a series of layoffs and that was gone as well.
No income. Eight people. Five kids. No on-site washer/dryer, so only the laundromat is a place to do clothes. Handwashing stuff in the sink and pinning it on an outside line on the second floor balcony of a lead-paint coated 6 floor apartment building? You do what you gotta do, and parents always do for their kids, but it feels like a special kind of shitty when you can't even afford to do basic things. Let alone the normal fun summer stuff families like to do.
Food assistance stalled out because they had to verify Mike's lack of employability. This meant in a lot of places we had no or very limited food. I've gotten up at 4:30 in the morning to get a good spot in line at the food banks. I even shamefacedly admit to having stolen on a few occasions to make sure my kids ate that day. The adults (one of whom is diabetic) will usually eat once a day, and sometimes not even that if resources are too low. It has been that bad.
We got a 7 day notice to quit - the first step of the eviction process -on my fucking birthday. Appealing to the landlord hasn't worked so far, despite all efforts short of offering to suck him off. I have filled out more fucking paperwork than any person should ever have to in their lifetime, to the point where I feel personally responsible for at least a percentage of world deforestation. I have had to ink that much goddamn dead tree - which drains hours from every day and week.
Appointments for Mike's mental health issues and the social worker angling him back to employment that I MUST attend as his advocate because otherwise the appointments are unproductive. Appointments of my own for chronic pain, degenerating spine, and most recently the appointment to finally admit to my doctor that yes, I will accept treatment for mental health.
I've had episodes of dissociation lasting more than 48 hours - with sleep breaking it up. I've woken up from anxiety attacks that have heart palpitations so hard it feels like Buck Brochamp is doing reps in there. I've had auditory hallucinations (hearing Shann snarl "you fucking bitch" at me in the kitchen when the man was legit just making a sandwich saying nothing). I've had visual hallucinations (Mike's head did a fucked up horror movie glitch twitch thing with me looking right at him - scariest shit ever). Kelli & Eira aren't diametrically opposed and both their own flavor of insane just because I think it's fun... my head ain't right, folks, but it's a high functioning sort of ain't right. Most of the time.
I have gone well beyond "I cannot even."
I am unable to can.
I don't know if there's someone here who is able and willing to step up and take over for what I'm clearly disappointing people left and right on, or if I can get more time to settle things, or helpful suggestions, or pretty literally anything else.
Because this isn't working.
This has gone past not being fun anymore, this is actively detrimental to my currently unstable mental health. I have been doing my best to remember things, keep track of things, and make sure everyone's having a good time... and it's just not happening. On the last card alone I booked someone who wasn't supposed to be booked, eagerly posted a card within a day of the late results only to be told I shouldn't have because I fucked a return angle, and then somehow managed to screw up an entire OTHER angle because neither myself nor anyone else I was working with on things remembered what else had been planned.
That's just this card.
So now I have 3 irritated handlers, and those are only the ones I've actually heard from.
Please understand that none of this is in ANY WAY meant as "poor me" bullshit (and me avoiding saying anything for so long was in an effort to keep from being seen that way, because this is a LOT of negative static), and I'm not saying "FUCK YOU GUYS, I'M OUT"
I want this to be enjoyable for everyone, but I need some kind of suggestions, or understanding that I am doing the very best I can.
I'm not ultra-efficient like Rick Majors.
I don't know wrestling like Shannon.
I'm not an experienced fedhead like A Ghost in the Wind.
I'm creative as fuck, and my lack of e-fed experience is often a bonus because I manage to throw together things most e-fedders wouldn't think of... but that's not enough right now. I'm making all the effort I can, and I'm STILL disappointing people, I'm STILL screwing things up, and the only reason I even give a flying fuck at a rolling, rainbow sprinkled donut about it all is because I'm trying to help people ENJOY the game, not fuck it up for them.
Outside of attachment to Kelli/Eira and their stories, the only reason I'm still here even writing this message that has me tearing up like a little bitch behind my keyboard is because this community means a great deal to me. I've said before how this is a rare "safe place" for me, and that's the truth - and I want it to be here. I want to keep doing these things and building these stories, but...
I dunno. This is where I'm at, guys. This is me doing the best I can right now. If this isn't okay (and I understand if it's not, because let's face it, shit's been screwy lately) and someone else wants to step up, I'll go ahead and #OccupyASeat.
This is me coming to you, the entire rest of the fed, telling you things even some of my closest friends and family don't know, in order to apologize for how crazy things have been. I really have been trying my best with this. I just need some breathing room, and some patience from the fed.
If you've read to here - thanks. This post is open for questions or commentary, suggestions or whatever it is you need to say. I want to turn this around.
I'm just not sure how right now.
~ Kris Prime
No, really, this is like EVERYTHING.
Alright, so here it is.
It's been mentioned here that things have been hard for me on the IRL front. What I've tried very hard to do is keep PCW entirely insulated from that, but events over the past month or so have thrown into sharp contrast just how poor a job I've been doing at it. Even though I've said very little here, and not even much on Facebook, PCW is feeling the effects being as I'm essentially in charge at this point.
The TL;DR is that we went over two months as a family of eight with no income.
In February, Mike (the non Murdoc partner) had a mental break bad enough that I had to pick him up from the mental health ward of a local hospital. He was deemed unfit to work until he was stabilized via medication, which is still in progress. He requires a fairly high dose of 2 medications, which need to be increased slowly. We still had one income for a while, but then place Shann was working for did a series of layoffs and that was gone as well.
No income. Eight people. Five kids. No on-site washer/dryer, so only the laundromat is a place to do clothes. Handwashing stuff in the sink and pinning it on an outside line on the second floor balcony of a lead-paint coated 6 floor apartment building? You do what you gotta do, and parents always do for their kids, but it feels like a special kind of shitty when you can't even afford to do basic things. Let alone the normal fun summer stuff families like to do.
Food assistance stalled out because they had to verify Mike's lack of employability. This meant in a lot of places we had no or very limited food. I've gotten up at 4:30 in the morning to get a good spot in line at the food banks. I even shamefacedly admit to having stolen on a few occasions to make sure my kids ate that day. The adults (one of whom is diabetic) will usually eat once a day, and sometimes not even that if resources are too low. It has been that bad.
We got a 7 day notice to quit - the first step of the eviction process -on my fucking birthday. Appealing to the landlord hasn't worked so far, despite all efforts short of offering to suck him off. I have filled out more fucking paperwork than any person should ever have to in their lifetime, to the point where I feel personally responsible for at least a percentage of world deforestation. I have had to ink that much goddamn dead tree - which drains hours from every day and week.
Appointments for Mike's mental health issues and the social worker angling him back to employment that I MUST attend as his advocate because otherwise the appointments are unproductive. Appointments of my own for chronic pain, degenerating spine, and most recently the appointment to finally admit to my doctor that yes, I will accept treatment for mental health.
I've had episodes of dissociation lasting more than 48 hours - with sleep breaking it up. I've woken up from anxiety attacks that have heart palpitations so hard it feels like Buck Brochamp is doing reps in there. I've had auditory hallucinations (hearing Shann snarl "you fucking bitch" at me in the kitchen when the man was legit just making a sandwich saying nothing). I've had visual hallucinations (Mike's head did a fucked up horror movie glitch twitch thing with me looking right at him - scariest shit ever). Kelli & Eira aren't diametrically opposed and both their own flavor of insane just because I think it's fun... my head ain't right, folks, but it's a high functioning sort of ain't right. Most of the time.
I have gone well beyond "I cannot even."
I am unable to can.
I don't know if there's someone here who is able and willing to step up and take over for what I'm clearly disappointing people left and right on, or if I can get more time to settle things, or helpful suggestions, or pretty literally anything else.
Because this isn't working.
This has gone past not being fun anymore, this is actively detrimental to my currently unstable mental health. I have been doing my best to remember things, keep track of things, and make sure everyone's having a good time... and it's just not happening. On the last card alone I booked someone who wasn't supposed to be booked, eagerly posted a card within a day of the late results only to be told I shouldn't have because I fucked a return angle, and then somehow managed to screw up an entire OTHER angle because neither myself nor anyone else I was working with on things remembered what else had been planned.
That's just this card.
So now I have 3 irritated handlers, and those are only the ones I've actually heard from.
Please understand that none of this is in ANY WAY meant as "poor me" bullshit (and me avoiding saying anything for so long was in an effort to keep from being seen that way, because this is a LOT of negative static), and I'm not saying "FUCK YOU GUYS, I'M OUT"
I want this to be enjoyable for everyone, but I need some kind of suggestions, or understanding that I am doing the very best I can.
I'm not ultra-efficient like Rick Majors.
I don't know wrestling like Shannon.
I'm not an experienced fedhead like A Ghost in the Wind.
I'm creative as fuck, and my lack of e-fed experience is often a bonus because I manage to throw together things most e-fedders wouldn't think of... but that's not enough right now. I'm making all the effort I can, and I'm STILL disappointing people, I'm STILL screwing things up, and the only reason I even give a flying fuck at a rolling, rainbow sprinkled donut about it all is because I'm trying to help people ENJOY the game, not fuck it up for them.
Outside of attachment to Kelli/Eira and their stories, the only reason I'm still here even writing this message that has me tearing up like a little bitch behind my keyboard is because this community means a great deal to me. I've said before how this is a rare "safe place" for me, and that's the truth - and I want it to be here. I want to keep doing these things and building these stories, but...
I dunno. This is where I'm at, guys. This is me doing the best I can right now. If this isn't okay (and I understand if it's not, because let's face it, shit's been screwy lately) and someone else wants to step up, I'll go ahead and #OccupyASeat.
This is me coming to you, the entire rest of the fed, telling you things even some of my closest friends and family don't know, in order to apologize for how crazy things have been. I really have been trying my best with this. I just need some breathing room, and some patience from the fed.
If you've read to here - thanks. This post is open for questions or commentary, suggestions or whatever it is you need to say. I want to turn this around.
I'm just not sure how right now.
~ Kris Prime
