The Week I Almost Lost My Shit

This week was rough. Just plain rough.

Let me tell you a little something about "vicarious trauma" or "secondary trauma."

It sucks.

The basic idea is that when you are told about traumatizing experiences, the amount of empathy you feel causes you to also be traumatized.

I've known about this for a long time. I never doubted that it was real. I've experienced mild bouts with it. Usually I am angry for a few hours then force myself to move on.

This was different.

I can't give specifics, but I can say that I cried.

I cried for days.

I had to journal about the situation for school, and I cried.

I would think about the situation, and I would cry.

Then I got pissed at myself for crying.

So I became angry.

So angry.

At everything.

Eventually all the emotion in combination with my lack of sleep and own stress, kicked my ass.

I literally was overwhelmed by emotions.

There was no room for my emotions because I felt like I was feeling the emotions for everyone else.

So I cried.

In the bathroom at work.

Not even kidding.

After talking with one of my supervisors (I have 3 currently, ha!) I was able to identify what was going on. Then I was able to address it.

So, with extra sleep, extra "me" time, and purposefully working through the trauma...

I feel better!

I'm back to my peppy, happy, crazy, and funny self. I feel normal again.

I'm sorry for being so negative for a week, but if I do that again tell me to go to bed and take care of myself. It will be worse while I continue with this schedule, but hopefully I'll be better able to cope after this internship wraps up. I'll have more time for sleep at least.

Thanks for still being my friends. I'm so very lucky.

Nun?

Can we just get real about dudes for a moment? 

Like 100% Authentic Stefani, type of real?

K, great!

I hate them.

I hate dudes. 

But I like them. 

Trust me, being straight is not a choice. I'm just wired this way. 

If I could choose to be gay, this may be the time. 

But no thank you. 

I hate the fellas cuz I like the fellas. 

Here's the issue. 

I seem to have "Treat me poorly" written on my forehead.

I like to think my type is douchebag, so that's the issue. 

BUT I don't think that's true. 

I think I'm the problem. 

BUT I can't figure out what the fuck is wrong with me. 

I'm fucking perfect. 

I make my own money. I work hard. I'm understanding. I'm fun. I'm nice. My face is alright. I'm getting into better shape (Seriously, who wouldn't want to get in on the ground floor of that??? I should be smoking hot pretty soon.).

I'm sure I have flaws. I just can't bare to face them at the moment. 

Regardless, at some point shouldn't I get treated like a decent human being? 

I really don't expect much. 

You know... 

Like text if you decide to cancel plans. 

WAIT! WAIT! WAIT!

I just figured it out. 

I'm so amazing every dude thinks I can read minds. 

Maybe I should make it more clear, that I can't. 

Maybe then they'll realize appropriate times to use their phones.

And the sad part (and probably my biggest piece of the problem) is that I require people to remind me I'm worth more. 

Fucking pathetic.

It's true though. 

I am worth more. 

I don't deserve that shit.

And I'm sick of it. 

Think it's too late to be a nun? 

Don't anyone dare to seriously answer that.