The biggest question when it comes to the U.S. education system is usually "Is it worth the (skyrocketing) cost?"
We'll cut that short. It's not worth the cost unless you're getting a practical or otherwise "in-demand" degree.
But that's not what has been on my mind about the whole mess of higher education. I think the whole thing needs to be overhauled. First of all, why, with the cost of courses going up every year, do we still require people to take general education credits? What is the value of a liberal arts/"well-rounded" education? For instance, why does a mortician (someone who plans funerals and cares for our dead) need to know how to solve linear equations and to simplify radical expressions? P.S: That's just math 1010!!!
Second, there NEED to be more options! One-size-fits-all will look good on a few people, but who the hell are we kidding when we think it will actually fit everyone? That never works - not in fashion, and definitely not in education. So why are there only vocational schools (that are looked down on for whatever reason) and, you know, college? What happened to apprenticeships? What happened to learning from a master? I'm finding out rather quickly that there are not a lot of opportunities for people who can't do the whole college thing. But why?
Third, it's a sneaky way to separate the rich from the poor. More and more apparent is that, as prices go up, only the wealthy and those willing and able to become indentured servants to the US government can "be educated" and earn that sweet, sweet diploma. Isn't that wrong? Shouldn't higher education be available to everyone at a reasonable price? I dunno. Gotta keep that bachelors degree valuable somehow...
Which brings us to the fourth point: It's built on lies! Your mom and dad probably didn't mean to screw you over by saying that a degree is the best, securest route to happiness and employment, but they're wrong. Maybe it was true in their time, but a degree won't get you jack $h*t a lot of the time these days. Ask the 2 people I know with JDs. Ask the Ph.D in chemistry guy I work with at an $11 an hour job. Ask the thousands of students who graduate with useless arts majors. Ask the more than half of college graduates working at a job that doesn't require a degree. Or look at the 8.9% unemployment rate of those with a bachelors.
It's the elephant in the room! Everyone knows it's broken! So why are we still doing this? It's not working for a lot of people. Nearly HALF of college students drop out before getting a degree. It's not working for HALF of us. The education system is greedy and useless. Let's bring apprenticeships back! Let's drop the dumb garbage from the required curriculum and save people time and money so they can work and contribute to society. Is that so much to ask?
Thursday, February 22, 2018
Monday, February 19, 2018
Changes
It's been a while.
I got a full-time job at a factory nearby. It's so much better than the other factory job. It's a steady pace, time goes by so fast, and I have really good co-workers. They're really good or interesting people. They treat the employees very well.
Things have been good in that regard.
Socially and romantically, it's been a nightmare.
I'm just happy there are possibilities.
I got a full-time job at a factory nearby. It's so much better than the other factory job. It's a steady pace, time goes by so fast, and I have really good co-workers. They're really good or interesting people. They treat the employees very well.
Things have been good in that regard.
Socially and romantically, it's been a nightmare.
I'm just happy there are possibilities.
Thursday, November 16, 2017
Discrimination?
One rule you (should) learn rather quickly as a mentally ill person is to never EVER disclose your diagnosis in an interview. Don't even elude to it, if you can.
I recently broke this rule (he asked why I left DI, what plausible lie would've sufficed?), and the interviewer immediately became uncomfortable. His body position shifted, his face subtly became strained and worried, his voice became sympathetic. Ugh. His concern was that he'd heard "people with depression have a hard time with needing a lot of sleep." He continued "Is that going to be a problem for you?"
First of all, most people with unipolar depression actually sleep and eat LESS. It's not my case (and yet another reason why the GP thinks I'm bipolar), but that's more normal. Second, even after I assured him staying awake from 10pm to 7:30am would not be a problem for me, he still seemed uneasy. It was heartbreaking, honestly. I saw my chances at this job evaporate before my eyes.
It's hard because there aren't a lot of jobs I can do in the first place. This was one of few opportunities that he just eliminated based on his misunderstanding of people with one of my conditions. A bigger problem for me personally is a marked lack of motivation and energy. The only other issue I've had with work is stress-response.
He had no idea, but two days before my interview with him, I started my first day at another job. I actually enjoyed it (who wouldn't enjoy putting labels on boxes alone for 6 hours straight?). However, I was moved to a much faster-paced area of the production line and people were unhappy with my lack of experience. I wasn't doing things the way my coworkers liked (they all gave me different instructions), and they were getting frustrated. Which, in turn, made me frustrated. And disappointed in myself. I absolutely hate being the weak link. The negative wheels started turning and, despite every effort to interject rational thoughts, a few tears started seeping out. I tried as covertly as possible to wipe them away and continue unnoticed. No such luck.
Somehow, this girl with some level of authority came over and asked what was wrong. I said: "Nothing is wrong." She asked my coworkers in Spanish, they didn't know. She kind of huffed and walked off. Soon afterward, my supervisor approached with the same question. "Nothing is wrong." I lied. "Just trying to work." She asked if I wanted to go home. "Is my shift over?" I asked, looking at the clock. No. Then the answer is HELL no. "I want to finish my shift at least." I answered. She said "Okay." and she walked off too. Then, my freaking manager shows up. By this time, I'm highly embarrassed and doing my very best to stifle my thoughts and tears, and work as hard as possible so no more attention will be drawn. He asks what's wrong. Slightly frustrated, I reply "Nothing!". He asks if it's because of something from home or from work. It's from neither. The problem is from my stupid brain, but I can't explain that now. "Neither! I wish people would just stop asking!" I'm suddenly taking my gloves off and walking out. On auto-pilot. I'm devastated I'm losing this job like this! That I couldn't even finish my first 10 hour shift. Beyond frustrated with myself. Embarrassed as fu*k. What adult does this?! Needless to say, the car ride home and subsequent suicidal gesture were emotionally-charged and there was plenty of screaming and sobbing.
But yeah, I had no problem getting up at 4am to be there at 6am.
I recently broke this rule (he asked why I left DI, what plausible lie would've sufficed?), and the interviewer immediately became uncomfortable. His body position shifted, his face subtly became strained and worried, his voice became sympathetic. Ugh. His concern was that he'd heard "people with depression have a hard time with needing a lot of sleep." He continued "Is that going to be a problem for you?"
First of all, most people with unipolar depression actually sleep and eat LESS. It's not my case (and yet another reason why the GP thinks I'm bipolar), but that's more normal. Second, even after I assured him staying awake from 10pm to 7:30am would not be a problem for me, he still seemed uneasy. It was heartbreaking, honestly. I saw my chances at this job evaporate before my eyes.
It's hard because there aren't a lot of jobs I can do in the first place. This was one of few opportunities that he just eliminated based on his misunderstanding of people with one of my conditions. A bigger problem for me personally is a marked lack of motivation and energy. The only other issue I've had with work is stress-response.
He had no idea, but two days before my interview with him, I started my first day at another job. I actually enjoyed it (who wouldn't enjoy putting labels on boxes alone for 6 hours straight?). However, I was moved to a much faster-paced area of the production line and people were unhappy with my lack of experience. I wasn't doing things the way my coworkers liked (they all gave me different instructions), and they were getting frustrated. Which, in turn, made me frustrated. And disappointed in myself. I absolutely hate being the weak link. The negative wheels started turning and, despite every effort to interject rational thoughts, a few tears started seeping out. I tried as covertly as possible to wipe them away and continue unnoticed. No such luck.
Somehow, this girl with some level of authority came over and asked what was wrong. I said: "Nothing is wrong." She asked my coworkers in Spanish, they didn't know. She kind of huffed and walked off. Soon afterward, my supervisor approached with the same question. "Nothing is wrong." I lied. "Just trying to work." She asked if I wanted to go home. "Is my shift over?" I asked, looking at the clock. No. Then the answer is HELL no. "I want to finish my shift at least." I answered. She said "Okay." and she walked off too. Then, my freaking manager shows up. By this time, I'm highly embarrassed and doing my very best to stifle my thoughts and tears, and work as hard as possible so no more attention will be drawn. He asks what's wrong. Slightly frustrated, I reply "Nothing!". He asks if it's because of something from home or from work. It's from neither. The problem is from my stupid brain, but I can't explain that now. "Neither! I wish people would just stop asking!" I'm suddenly taking my gloves off and walking out. On auto-pilot. I'm devastated I'm losing this job like this! That I couldn't even finish my first 10 hour shift. Beyond frustrated with myself. Embarrassed as fu*k. What adult does this?! Needless to say, the car ride home and subsequent suicidal gesture were emotionally-charged and there was plenty of screaming and sobbing.
But yeah, I had no problem getting up at 4am to be there at 6am.
Friday, November 3, 2017
Like
We all have our passions in life. Today, I got to talk about mine!
It started with an article about Richard Ramirez; The Nightstalker. Basically, he would go out at night and enter unlocked doors of homes and bludgeon (beat, rape, sodomize) his victims to death. His crimes were horrific, but I think what fascinates people most about him is his little following of girls. Yeah...this guy brutalizes innocent people in the worst way, and yet the girls adored his good looks and mystery so much that they'd flock to all his court appearances.
Anyway, this article was more of a criminology perspective of why he did what he did. Interesting as hell, of course. I took a criminal profiling class (they hate that term, btw) from a retired FBI agent with the Behavioral Science Unit. Basically, I learned that a) people don't just "break". b) the difference between a psychopath and a sociopath is that the psychopath is born without empathy and the sociopath is conditioned to lack empathy. c) my husband's ex is literally a sociopath, and it helped on all the tests because I just had to list attributes about her. I'm not kidding.
The article theorizes that Richard Ramirez is a sociopath who suffered alleged physical abuse from his father and had 2 traumatic head injuries - a dresser fell on his head, causing a laceration in infancy, and getting knocked out after being hit by a swing (he suffered seizures from then on). To top it all off, his mother worked in a boot-making factory and was exposed to chemical fumes when pregnant with all her children. All of his siblings suffered defects. And, to me, if a mom would put all of her kids at risk after seeing the damage to the first ones, there was neglect. Or a low IQ. Most devastating, in my opinion, was that he was shown photos of raped and murdered Vietnamese women by his soldier cousin. When he was 13. Developing sexually. They think this made a connection in his brain between sexual arousal and violence. He became aroused by violence.
So fascinating. I still think he should be punished for his heinous crimes, but I also sympathize. Did he really have a chance? A lot of comments (from those who obviously didn't read the article) claimed: "I had a bad childhood and I didn't kill anyone!" or "It's entirely his choice. Doesn't anyone take responsibility anymore?!". Silly. And true. A LOT of people suffer messed up childhoods, and yet don't kill anyone. So we need to examine these guys and figure out what makes them different. What is the tipping point? A gene? A personality trait? Different brain shape or chemistry?
I could go on and on. And I did. I just took poor Stephen on this ride, rambling on about my theories and branching into different crimes. I remember a lot of different crimes. Lots of details. It's a neat party trick.
But I was actually somewhat excited about something. I feel things when I talk about this kind of stuff. I love criminal justice. I really love just how intricate and unique each case is. Justice bends to suit every participant. There is real, raw emotion from all parties involved. Or sometimes a lack of it. All very interesting. All real. It matters. It all matters.
I just wonder if that's why I like the things I like. Because it makes me feel. It saves me from the constant boredom and emptiness. Music, crime, epidemiology and thanatology. It's so stupid, because that's the way everyone works, I think. We all like what we like because it actually gets our attention. We actually find those things important in some way. I don't know. So simple. So obvious.
It started with an article about Richard Ramirez; The Nightstalker. Basically, he would go out at night and enter unlocked doors of homes and bludgeon (beat, rape, sodomize) his victims to death. His crimes were horrific, but I think what fascinates people most about him is his little following of girls. Yeah...this guy brutalizes innocent people in the worst way, and yet the girls adored his good looks and mystery so much that they'd flock to all his court appearances.
Anyway, this article was more of a criminology perspective of why he did what he did. Interesting as hell, of course. I took a criminal profiling class (they hate that term, btw) from a retired FBI agent with the Behavioral Science Unit. Basically, I learned that a) people don't just "break". b) the difference between a psychopath and a sociopath is that the psychopath is born without empathy and the sociopath is conditioned to lack empathy. c) my husband's ex is literally a sociopath, and it helped on all the tests because I just had to list attributes about her. I'm not kidding.
The article theorizes that Richard Ramirez is a sociopath who suffered alleged physical abuse from his father and had 2 traumatic head injuries - a dresser fell on his head, causing a laceration in infancy, and getting knocked out after being hit by a swing (he suffered seizures from then on). To top it all off, his mother worked in a boot-making factory and was exposed to chemical fumes when pregnant with all her children. All of his siblings suffered defects. And, to me, if a mom would put all of her kids at risk after seeing the damage to the first ones, there was neglect. Or a low IQ. Most devastating, in my opinion, was that he was shown photos of raped and murdered Vietnamese women by his soldier cousin. When he was 13. Developing sexually. They think this made a connection in his brain between sexual arousal and violence. He became aroused by violence.
So fascinating. I still think he should be punished for his heinous crimes, but I also sympathize. Did he really have a chance? A lot of comments (from those who obviously didn't read the article) claimed: "I had a bad childhood and I didn't kill anyone!" or "It's entirely his choice. Doesn't anyone take responsibility anymore?!". Silly. And true. A LOT of people suffer messed up childhoods, and yet don't kill anyone. So we need to examine these guys and figure out what makes them different. What is the tipping point? A gene? A personality trait? Different brain shape or chemistry?
I could go on and on. And I did. I just took poor Stephen on this ride, rambling on about my theories and branching into different crimes. I remember a lot of different crimes. Lots of details. It's a neat party trick.
But I was actually somewhat excited about something. I feel things when I talk about this kind of stuff. I love criminal justice. I really love just how intricate and unique each case is. Justice bends to suit every participant. There is real, raw emotion from all parties involved. Or sometimes a lack of it. All very interesting. All real. It matters. It all matters.
I just wonder if that's why I like the things I like. Because it makes me feel. It saves me from the constant boredom and emptiness. Music, crime, epidemiology and thanatology. It's so stupid, because that's the way everyone works, I think. We all like what we like because it actually gets our attention. We actually find those things important in some way. I don't know. So simple. So obvious.
Monday, October 30, 2017
Can't deal
This is going to sound dramatic (when do I not?), but it's impossible to describe another way. I honestly don't feel like I was built for this life.
Contact with "the other man" has been limited. For understandable reasons. And it's not like I wasn't dysfunctional when I could communicate with him, but I was definitely happier than I am now. I didn't realize how much.
It's getting hard to eat. For me! I couldn't do much more than shower before and leave the house at night to get my one meal of the day (fries), but now even that is asking a lot. I have been playing Overwatch basically nonstop. It's not that I love the game that much - especially because I often get stuck playing healer - it's because I can't stand being cognizant of reality. Of my stupid limitations.
I am so bored. I am so empty. The disappointment is astronomical.
Excuse the emo sentiment, but it is literally painful to be alive. I hate being awake. All I can think about is how long this is taking. How I can't possibly make it past age 30. This is too much. Imagine if my life was actually difficult! I'm such a waste of human tissue.
And it's not like I have anything to look forward to. I have PKD, I clearly can't hold a job, I will never get a degree, and I don't want kids. All I ever wanted was a career, since I was 5 years old. And it's just never going to happen. Not in a million years. Yes, I am bitter :)
Contact with "the other man" has been limited. For understandable reasons. And it's not like I wasn't dysfunctional when I could communicate with him, but I was definitely happier than I am now. I didn't realize how much.
It's getting hard to eat. For me! I couldn't do much more than shower before and leave the house at night to get my one meal of the day (fries), but now even that is asking a lot. I have been playing Overwatch basically nonstop. It's not that I love the game that much - especially because I often get stuck playing healer - it's because I can't stand being cognizant of reality. Of my stupid limitations.
I am so bored. I am so empty. The disappointment is astronomical.
Excuse the emo sentiment, but it is literally painful to be alive. I hate being awake. All I can think about is how long this is taking. How I can't possibly make it past age 30. This is too much. Imagine if my life was actually difficult! I'm such a waste of human tissue.
And it's not like I have anything to look forward to. I have PKD, I clearly can't hold a job, I will never get a degree, and I don't want kids. All I ever wanted was a career, since I was 5 years old. And it's just never going to happen. Not in a million years. Yes, I am bitter :)
Friday, August 25, 2017
In My Heart
Hello. It's been a short while. Things have been a bit different as of late, in ways both exciting and devastating. At least I feel something though.
I haven't been to work much since going off antipsychotics. They're trying so hard to help me, but I sabotage their efforts voluntarily and involuntarily. They want me to see a psychiatrist so I can get medicated and hopefully work a proper schedule again. I want that too, so very badly. However, I am not at all interested in trying more medicines. I'm just done. The only ones that have worked are so bad for you. The side effects are unbearable. At least with what little I'm on now, I know what to expect. The whole situation makes me absolutely miserable to think of.
And I've gotten so angry lately. It's definitely different from sadness. It's not emptiness. It's new. I just don't want to be a victim anymore. A victim of what I am. My life is out of control, whether I'm trying to control it or not. I'm mad that I've wasted so much time trying to fit the mold of others. Of healthy people. I've had a lot of time to think about what I really wasn't and what I don't want. I don't want kids, I've never truly wanted them. I wish I stopped going to college sooner. Sometimes I wish I never got married, and will never marry. I want to be sterilized. I want tattoos. I love coffee. My life would be so different if I didn't listen to or try to please anyone. I realize that I still hurt so deeply from things people closest to me did. Things that can't be changed, and should be accepted by now. But I don't think I'll ever stop hurting, honestly.
But that's where the good(?) news comes in: I've fallen in love with another man. Not to say that I'm any less in love with Stephen, just that I love two people. Life has been interesting again. Maybe even good. He treats me so well and he supports me emotionally. He cheers me up when I'm sad (or at least tries very hard to). He compliments me constantly, and showers me with affection. He's the good boyfriend I never had. We have a lot in common. Most importantly, he makes me feel like I have worth. He, without trying, is slowly patching up the broken pieces of my heart and my psyche. I love him. I'm really not sure where it could ever go, but I'm just enjoying it for now.
I haven't been to work much since going off antipsychotics. They're trying so hard to help me, but I sabotage their efforts voluntarily and involuntarily. They want me to see a psychiatrist so I can get medicated and hopefully work a proper schedule again. I want that too, so very badly. However, I am not at all interested in trying more medicines. I'm just done. The only ones that have worked are so bad for you. The side effects are unbearable. At least with what little I'm on now, I know what to expect. The whole situation makes me absolutely miserable to think of.
And I've gotten so angry lately. It's definitely different from sadness. It's not emptiness. It's new. I just don't want to be a victim anymore. A victim of what I am. My life is out of control, whether I'm trying to control it or not. I'm mad that I've wasted so much time trying to fit the mold of others. Of healthy people. I've had a lot of time to think about what I really wasn't and what I don't want. I don't want kids, I've never truly wanted them. I wish I stopped going to college sooner. Sometimes I wish I never got married, and will never marry. I want to be sterilized. I want tattoos. I love coffee. My life would be so different if I didn't listen to or try to please anyone. I realize that I still hurt so deeply from things people closest to me did. Things that can't be changed, and should be accepted by now. But I don't think I'll ever stop hurting, honestly.
But that's where the good(?) news comes in: I've fallen in love with another man. Not to say that I'm any less in love with Stephen, just that I love two people. Life has been interesting again. Maybe even good. He treats me so well and he supports me emotionally. He cheers me up when I'm sad (or at least tries very hard to). He compliments me constantly, and showers me with affection. He's the good boyfriend I never had. We have a lot in common. Most importantly, he makes me feel like I have worth. He, without trying, is slowly patching up the broken pieces of my heart and my psyche. I love him. I'm really not sure where it could ever go, but I'm just enjoying it for now.
Tuesday, July 4, 2017
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