Adrift

We lost a client yesterday. She was high risk and had been engaged with our service for some time, but something happened and it wasn't enough. I don't know really what to do or say, and I'm just aiming to be there for my friends and colleagues, but I don't feel like it's enough. I didn't know her personally; I certainly didn't treat her or see her regularly but I did read her case. I use her data frequently. She was in the inpatient unit too, so I'll have to read and reread her case there.

I wish I knew what to do. I wish there was something that I could do. First suicide in nine years at the service.

I just don't know.

I'm so angry, I.....cry?

I am a research assistant for a CAMHS. I work hard, I work fast and I always try to support the clinicians. I found out that there was a Mental Health Nurses Conference coming up, so I rallied the nurses, prodded and cajoled them into thinking about research ideas for presenting until I had four abstracts sent off for approval. All were accepted, and I began working hard. For the SACS one, I wrote the ethics application, I wrote the research proposal, I wrote the institutional approval application, I pulled the data, I will do the data analysis. No offence to the nurse, but I have done at least 90% of the fucking work - and the nurse is appreciative of it because she doesn't understand the process or how to do it. In fact, the nurse manager said that she is amazed and astounded by my work.

So why the fuck was I declined to attend this conference? Without me, the service wouldn't even be presenting. The Clinical Directors justification for this was because I am not a nurse, and it is a nursing conference and there are three other nurses going. No shit. Two of those nurses are going to present a fucking poster. I'm talking about a 20 minutes presentation where I am a named author.

Of course, my ridiculous reaction was to get angry and that lead to crying. I'm not crying for pity, I'm crying because I can't seem to manage not express my anger verbally. Which of course makes me look weak and not professional, the opposite of what I am aiming for.

I want to go to this conference because I have done so much work for it, and because it is my only show of professional development. I have three areas for performance reviews - conferences, grants and publications.

What this basically comes down to is that I feel I am being undervalued because I am not a member of a clinician team, and thus I am feeling like there is really no point to my work there. And because I can't adequately explain my position, I don't know what to do.

I never thought it would be like this. I was just thinking on the weekend that I really love my job, and this notwithstanding, I do. It's just that this is such a big deal.

With all the shit that has gone down so far this year, I wonder what the hell I did that set off this bad portion of karma?

Thank god for vodka and sleeping pills.

Making Myself Happy

One emo post deserves a happy, random one. So here we go:

I really like Auckland beaches. The West Coast is wild and rugged with iron sand that burns you feet for even thinking of standing on it, the waves are notoriusly dangerous and wild with rapidly shifting rips; the East Coast is more sheltered with white sand and gentle rolling waves. I went to the beach this afternoon to meet up with some friends but got the timing wrong so I just sat down for an hour and centred myself. The waves were barely lapping at the shore, the sun was setting and the humidity disappeared. Before I left my aunt's place this afternoon, I noticed that Auckland was hazed over - this only happens when the humdity is around 95% in the late afternoon. But sitting on that beach, all of my worries and stress of the past week didn't matter. What mattered was the sound of the ocean and the feel of my soul being calmed. It was peaceful.

Hell I'm even sitting under a pohutukawa tree! How much more quintessential kiwi can you get?

This looks weird but it's from laying down looking up

I don't think that I could ever live somewhere with no beach. Living in london was torture, and the second I saw the beach coming in to land at Auckland airport, I was calmer and felt more secure.

You wouldn't think that I would be a beach person. Despite being a Dallie, i'm as white as they come. I burn like the dickins in nz and I don't like the transition from being wet to dry. But seeing the ocean gives me a feeling of peace, its part of why I love the drive into work, my motorway goes right along and over the sea.

I have mad skillz - I took this as I was going 100km approaching a corner

The "skyline" of Auckland. Yup - that's the whole city

Sometimes it just sucks

This week has been really stressful with work things and then my cousin was admitted to hospital for a potential ectopic pregnancy (which it wasn't - or rather the intern decided it wasn't), and now my Grandad has been admitted to a different hospital for suspected pneumonia, but they've found a shadow on the lung Xray which warrants further investigation, so he's still there. And it wouldn't have been such a hard week if I had the support of my friends here - but that hasn't been forthcoming. And that sucks, a lot. It's been the support of my friends who are further away that has kept me from loosing my mind. I spoke to my dad tonight who suggested that it was because I take my familial responsibilities seriously - and because I am Dallie (Croatian), family is essential for me but not for others. I try to give others that consideration, but right now, I am struggling with them not living up to my expectations. I will drop everything for a friend in need, and it hurts when it is not reciprocated.

I have to remember to be strong, to let myself feel these things and not bury them. Kia Kaha. I am allowed to put myself and my family first. Kia Mana. The hurt I feel is just a demonstration of the love I have for others. Kia Aroha.

I just wish it wasn't so hard.

Seeing the dirt on the pool floor

Baby K and I went swimming on Friday. Ostensibly because I did promise her last week when I insisted on going to the beach rather than back out west (on the day of the NW Shooting), but also because I'm running a Triathlon in 20 days, and as such all time in the pool is worthwhile. At least that's what I told myself. I spent half the time having a wild creature scramble for my arm in a desperate attempt to not drown, and the rest of the time telling asshole teenage boys to stop bombing directly on Baby K or stop splashing in our faces. Asses.

Anywoo, Baby K swam about 20m on her own! It wasn't pretty but she did it!

Finally managed to get my ass to the gym on Saturday afternoon. This triathlon thing is looming rather close (it's the 20th of Feb!) so I'm thinking I need to do just a touch more work. Ha. I have more swimming planned this week and then running/cycling on the other days. I'm really struggling with it all at the moment because I'm not good at it - so I struggle to not get distracted and enjoy it. It's a huge push for me to even swim 25 m non stop, not because I can't but because I get bored. I swarm with contacts in for the first time, which was exciting for the first 50m, but then got hell boring because all I was looking at was the dirty pool floor in focus. Boo. I'm sure I'll get past it, but for now I must push myself.

I despise doing things that I'm not good at, or things that I have to push myself to do unless I can see that I can make it. Which doesn't really make a lot of sense, because I do enjoy challenges, but I enjoy challenges that are within my comfort zone. Even the sense of achievement isn't enough at the moment. I am the brainy one, not the athletically gifted one. My cousins do really well in both Basketball and Netball, not me. Sitting the gamsat doesn't phase me as much as getting out there and running that Triathlon. I'm so scared of not making it.