Archive for the employment Category

The Unemployment Olympics Winner…or finding work when disabled

Posted in disability, employment, working with disabilities with tags , , , , , , , on May 9, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

So like you know how I am always saying we have 8o people applying for one minimum wage position?

Kennel Assistant
Country Club Kennel
Franklin, IL
Your application status
Submitted 13 days ago
You applied
13 days ago
Job listing is currently
Other Indeed applicants

Yes, 63 other applicants for the kennel job. Many of who likely have kennel experience, current positive references and recent employment references.

I think this is where I get so frustrated. It isn’t that I am not trying hard enough, it is that I am literally in rural rock and a hard place territory. So perhaps I’m not unemployable, I’m just not heavily desired as an employee.

But it proves what I say is true and that I am applying for the positions. I have a few apps still open but some are closed meaning I didn’t get it and that’s a bummer cos I don’t need the money to put gas in my shiny car and run around all summer socializing or buy designer clothes or fancy computer or gamer equipment.

I have a child to raise, alone, no child support, no coparenting, just me.

That is why every job failure stings so much. Were I doing it for shallow or selfish purposes, maybe I’d deserve rejection. But my motives are pure, my determination strong as iron. The one handicap I have going against me is neither physical nor mental. It is an economically oppressed rural geography.

I am gonna keep trying. I have the best reason to stand tall and hang tough and I call her Spook. I am all she has and I am gonna prove to her, and to myself, and all my detractors, that I can do better for her, for myself.

spook and me tree





Nothing. Matters.

Posted in depression, employment, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , on May 7, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I applied last week at the minimart here in Armpit cos he was needing someone to work 10 to 20 hours a week. Pays $9 per hour,cash. I hated the one gas station gig I ever had but I was willing to try.

Today I see he has hired two new ladies and is training them. That stung. So being blunt as I am I asked why he did not even give me a trial shift to see if I was hireable.

He was apologetic and explained, my theft charge appeared on my background check and corporate does not entrust handling cash to thieves. He was nice and professional bout it but it all boils down to the same thing.

I am unemployable. And everyone saying get a job and help yourself has no grasp on my reality.

I made one bad choice over 15 years ago. I did my legal atonement,I got help for my mental state,and I have NEVER taken anything again.

No matter. Can’t be a cashier. Cannot do anything in healthcare,daycare,schools. Even fast food wont have me.

My kid is never gonna get her summer vacation to Six Flags cos I fucked up years ago.

The world does not forgive or forget and when you are just trying to keep your kid fed,your cats free of fleas, and buy medications…to be so rejected time and again…

Nothing matters. Actually, a lot of stuff matters but right now, I can’t do a damn thing about it since you gotta get hired to hold a job and you can’t make them hire you. Now that I am demoralized and filled with self loathing, maybe I can  go to bed. I took 100 mg Trazadone cos if I don’t get a few hours solid sleep, I am gonna lose my fucking mind from exhaustion. That isn’t whining, that is basic science. I need rest to recharge.

That matters. Sadly, it, too, is one more thing I seem to have absolutely no ability to help myself with.



Depression, Anxiety, And Poverty Should Be Considered A Viral Epidemic

Posted in employment with tags , , , , , , , , on April 14, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

Happy Sunday.

We woke to blowing snow and 32 degrees on April 14th. I shut the heat off as it was in the 60’s yesterday. My kid was unamused to wake up with icicles on her toes.

Today is Doomsday. Not looking forward to a 20 mile drive into town and if the donor is a now show, then I’ve wasted what little gas money I have and will have a despondent child on my hands. If he does show up, it will take every bit of me fighting my own nature to call people for being blatant phonies and liars.

I’d like to say thanks to the people who have helped us a little toward our fundraising goal to keep our power/heat turned on. You guys know who you are and how much it means to me and Spook.

Direct donation or gift through paypal here.

If you want the sordid story and a heartfelt video, that is here on gofundme.

I bathed this morning for the first time in 9 days. I may be a worn down depressive busk and basketcase but I’m not giving the donor the satisfaction of seeing me that way. He’d take credit for ‘destroying’ me when fact is, the depression and anxiety have been plundering me for so long, and with the money problems of him not paying support, and Spook being such a volatile kid…That is what has worn me down this far. Not him. My psyche isn’t so weak as to be deterred by romantic rejection. Been there, done that, keep buying the t-shirt every few years then burning it.

I need to jet by mom’s before our meeting today, she has some black dress flat shoes I can use for my job interview tomorrow. I only own tennis shoes and combat style heavy metal rocker chick boots, so…thank god me, mom, and my sister all have the exact same large ass foot size.

Pretty nervous about the interview tomorrow but the lady told me there could be an issue with my past even if it was over 15 years ago but she’d like to talk to me anyway. If I go in expecting little, I won’t be disappointed to be told ‘thanks but no thanks.’

I’m getting pretty disgusted with the flaming hoops involved in just applying to flip burgers or serve subs. Personality tests, audio clips to grade the customer/employer interaction, video clips in which you get 5 seconds to reply to a hypothetical situation coherently…Starting to feel like you gotta be a brain surgeon to be ‘sandwich artist’ material.

Fonal thoughts…

Yesterday there was a brief moment in which I felt sort of happy with our lives. I get left to my own devices, she has some friends, I get along with parents in a civilized way, we have a home, a car, she has a swingset and a bike and scooter and we have our cats…It’s not always bad. It’s just scary when you think how close you are to losing it.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. If I could make my gratitude go viral and infectious, I would.

I have met some amazing kind and generous friends through wordpress and I love you all for being my support system, my friends, and sometimes, even my ‘panic button’ to text when I start crumbling. You guys are pretty amazing and I may not always feel I deserve it, but I sure as hell appreciate it.

There’s the family you’re born with and anyone who reads my blog knows mine is not supportive or very helpful.

You guys here on wordpress are the family I have chosen because you are supportive and helpful and you seem able to cut through the layers of gruff self protection I’ve encased myself in…and you see the troubled but basically decent person inside and you accept and appreciate me for it.

You will never in a million years know how much this means to me and I thank you and send you all the love in the world.

Do Or Die Time-Please Repost, Share, and Help Any Way You can

Posted in depression, employment, health with tags , , , , , , , on April 13, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

job search screen shot

So I started a fundraiser, in addition to setting up paypal
to take donations.

I am also going to put in some photos to show my monthly income, how many months we have been without any child support payments, and proof that I AM looking for work.

We need to be shown some love, guys.

Please please please…This is to keep the power turned on, it’s very important. Plus legal fees, the cost of a new psych doc, and to afford the newer treatments insurance won’t cover…THIS IS IMPORTANT.

Happy Caturday and bless you all.

Yes, Mental Health Disability Is A Thing

Posted in depression, employment, employment wanted for the disabled with tags , , , , , , , on April 4, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

This morning my daughter said, “You’re not disabled, you don’t even have a broken leg.”

And so begins with rampant ignorance surrounding ‘invisible illness’.

I never once claimed any physical disability. My mental disability claim was only granted after years of trying to apply, being rejected, endless strings of jobs I could not maintain, and finally a medication interaction that caused brain damage. They did not just hand it to me. I jumped through flaming hoops for years. And it wasn’t even my idea, I have racked up two more dozen of bad references for jobs I am not stable enough to maintain, were it not for counselors and psychiatrists endlessly pointing out that I tried my best, I was legitimately disabled by my mental disorders.

There’s not one member of my family who doesn’t scoff at the notion of me being disabled. Because it’s invisible and not ‘in your face’ like visible disorders and such. Now my own child questions me even though she has witnessed firsthand just how much I struggle daily with my disorders. I can’t say it doesn’t hurt. I also can’t say I am surprised. The narrow mindedness of society to accept that which they cannot see visibly or understand intellectually boggles the mind. This goes for other invisible illnesses, too. Some people are on the autistic spectrum but because they are functional, people don’t consider them disabled. Fibromyalgia is a pain only you can feel inside, so it too is scoffed at. Chronic fatigue, debilitating deteriorating diseases, migraines, arthritis that limits your physical ability…Invisible to others so…must not exist. Must be malingering and lazy.

I suppose the entire points of  doing my blog were to A.) let others with crippling mental disorders know they are not alone, and B.) educate those who simply don’t understand and those who simply prefer ignorance to learning something that makes them ill at ease. If I can make one person feel less alone, if I can educate one doubter, then this has all been worthwhile.

Just because you can’t ‘see’ it, like broken bones, arms in a sling, a pronounced mental deficit, cancer with treatments that leave devastating visible effects…It’s not the the same with mental health issues. You may not see it therefore don’t believe it but you don’t walk in our shoes. You don’t understand what it is like when your everyday is spent pulled under the surface by some unknown force you cannot overcome. You don’t understand what it is like to only look forward to the nothingness of sleep. You don’t know what it is like to be frozen like a deer in a car’s headlight, unable to make the simplest choices, like what to eat for support, or if you have any ideas that aren’t encased in a disorder’s gloom cloud. It isn’t a mood. It isn’t an affectation. This is very real and even if you can’t see it..I live it. Who are you to question my experience simply because it isn’t yours?

Other myths about the invisibility of mental health disorders is that we are lazy. That we are of averge to above average intelligence therefore there can’t possibly be anything wrong with us mentally. Intelligence has NOTHING to do with mental illness. You can be a Mensa member and still have disorders that impact your daily life to the point you simply cannot exist in the bubble of social conformity. We try and try and try and the outcome is always the same. Some call this ‘learning’. I call it having burned every bridge in this small rural area so no one will hire me. If my brain had sent the right signals, it would not have happened that way.

You cannot know what it is like to daily battle your own brain-responsible for every basic function working the way it should- when the information being sent is a distortion. Last week I was convinced a loose doorknob meant someone had broken into our house. Nothing could talk me out of it. It lingered for two days then became one more little thing to stash in a file in my brain. This week, I am convinced that my daughter is ashamed of me because she can’t see my disability and also, all the family says I’m not ‘really’ disabled. She hasn’t said anything about being disappointed but she is quick to point out, “Well, pop pop and grandma say you’re not really disabled…”

I barely leave the house, I haven’t bathed in two weeks, I see no point in my future that isn’t going to be awful, and my anxiety just sent me on a pounding heart ‘someone is outside!” panic prowl to see if someone was indeed out there. It was a cat, of course, but my fight or flight response is so realistic in physical symptoms, you may as well have pushed a guy in a hockey mask wielding a machete at me. But I suppose you don’t see this, even when I am shaking and breathing heavily and twitchy and looking terrified. You see me looking grungy and assume I am a lazy slob who doesn’t care what she looks like.

There are those, of course, who do abuse the disability system. And some of them are fine upstanding citizens. I knew a lady who had gotten a handicapped placard for her car when she had knee surgery. She was still using it 5 years later because she wanted a good parking space. No one questions those people, though. It’s usually some person with an invisible illness who some schmo decides doesn’t look disabled therefore they can’t be and are fakers working the system. Those people exist and they really muck it up for the rest of us who are legitimately hindered by a damaging mental illness.

So just try to open your mind and not be held captive by your preconcieved biases. Just because you can’t see our disability does not give you the right to doubt us. And it absolutely does not mean we’re faking it. Until you have walked in our shoes, that isn’t your call to make. And FYI, being supportive and understanding and empathetic works a lot better in encouraging people with disabilities as opposed to being criticized, questioned, and put down.

And if you are an employer or someone who does the hiring, please keep in mind that even though someone has an unstable past, everyone deserves a chance. Even if their disability requires a daily break to go cry in the bathroom or hyperventilate. You provide accommodations for physical disabilities but not for mental ones. This is unfair and should be illegal, but it only is in theory. Until it is enforced and employers are forced to accept the mentally disabled as they do the physically disabled, you are only adding to our depression and anxiety and feelings of worthlessness. We might surprise you with our capabilities once people stop bullying us, stop putting ‘normal’ expectations on us, and work with us so even with our disabilities, we can work for you.

This also goes for those in the mental health field. One size fits all doesn’t work so get to know us before you slap us with a label and decide your version of therapy or treatment is the proper course for everyone. The more this approach is forced on us, the less progress we make. We are individuals and should be treated as such. Again, we might surprise you if given an approach that actually encourages us and strengthens us. Simply getting slapped with a label and cookie cutter treatment only makes your life easier, not ours. Stop making us feel invisible. Our disorders do that enough.

Employment Wanted:Help me help myself!!!!

Posted in employment, mental disability with tags , , , , , , , on March 28, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

The day was passing without too much trauma. Then out of the blue my dad calls and informs me-does not ask, INFORMS ME, that he is sending my brother over to get me and Spook’s bikes to air up the tires and we are to come with and ride them home. It wasn’t that it was a big inconvenience, but with my dad, even puking with the flu, you are expected to drop everything on his schedule, so the ONLY excuse he ever forgives is if you have a job. Single disabled mom doing her best to raise a kid alone on limited income…nothing I do is right, nothing I do will ever be enough. If you don’t work 60 hours a week at age 72, you are beneath him.

And so he blew up on the phone and said, “YOU DO THIS STUFF WHEN YOU HAVE TIME WHEN YOU HAVE A DAMN JOB, YOU HAVE TO SCHEDULE THINGS AROUND YOUR JOB!” Well, I never asked him to bother with the bikes so why this was so imperative to him is beyond me. I tried to say no but was bulldozed, as usual. Until I am able to repay them every cent I owe them, it is never gonna end unless I move far, far away or my dad croaks. And that isn’t being callous, it’s the truth. It’s like the man bought and paid for me with every thing he has given me as a gift or ‘help’ when we needed it. It is maddening and crippling to my self esteem when I AM TRYING TO GET WORK BUT I CANNOT MAKE PEOPLE HIRE ME.

I guess since my 23 year old man child learning disabled brother got on with McDonald’s then me not getting hired is somehow a lack of effort. Or a gun to hold to their heads. And my brother, omg, he’s worked 16 hours in the last 9 days, 2-3 hour shifts each day, no more, and he is gushing how much he loves it and it’s money money in his pocket and it’s easy (yet when I pointed out my kid can take out trash and wipe tables, he said, no it’s more complicated than that). Not to mention he is so ‘not right in the head’ they won’t let him drive anywhere but in this rural area so 6 days a week for this 16 hours they are toting him into town at $4 a day for gas. I don’t think he comprehends after taxes how little sixteen hours a week is. But then if all he has to do is reimburse mommy for gas, I guess he will have quite a bit excess to spend on video games. They won’t charge him rent or food or make him pay license his truck or insure it….So he has the luxury of being so arrogant as if he is really accomplishing so much. He won’t even feed my kid when he has her with him at their house, he’s so attached to the video game system. Yet he works so he’s above me now.

I am so sick of them, and their shit. My kid was about in tears when we finally left, after being pulled inside and essentially bullied into eating even though we had both just eaten and weren’t hungry but again, they wouldn’t take no for an answer. They kept taunting her for not feeling well Monday, for having a headache yesterday, saying does the baby need a bottle then telling her she’s worse than a 75 year old man and she needs to get over it. They are fucking monsters. Socially acceptable ones, which I can’t see as they are such raging racists and classists but whatever, rules are different in Armpit.

So yet again…ANYONE KNOW OF WORK FROM HOME EMPLOYMENT OPPORTUNITIES? I don’t care how mundane, I’ll write technical manuals, I’ll man a porn fetish chat group. I will do ANYTHING WITH MY DISABILITY LIMITATIONS. And please don’t assume the ability to raise a kid and string sentences together means I am not disabled mentally. It’s got NOTHING to do with intelligence.

At least I can say we rode the bikes home and I kept up fine, if anything, I sped ahead of my kid. Impressive for a 46 year old large woman who hasn’t ridden one since last summer. At least winter depression and inertia didn’t cause my muscles to atrophy. That being said, now I have an earache, as I usually do walking or riding, even when allegedly warm out. It’s like BBQ skewers in my ears, that cool wind and breeze. I don’t know many people who get jazzed about doing something that may be healthy, but ends up placing them in serious pain. Earaches hurt like mofo.

So…internet. Prove yourself useful. Bring us a guardian angel to help me help myself and thus help my kid. And by all means, if you hate narrow minded redneck bullies as much as I do, there is the added bonus of not just helping a disabled mom and her kid, but a big middle finger to the racist brigade.

I am tired of being put down instead of being encouraged and supported by my own family.

It’s time for some sunshine spewing pegacorns.

Did I mention I’d even do balloon porn? I REALLY do want to work but the only way I am going to succeed in the long term is to accept my disability limitation. There is no shame in that and if my disability were physical instead of mental, no one would think twice about accommodating my limits.

So much for the disability act meant to protect the disabled. It does very little for those of us whose minds send the wrong impulse and chemicals and distory our entire view of things. If anything, I should think your own brain not sending the right messages would be the ultimate disability. You can’t excel and wow people to hire you if your brain is telling you life is pointless, you are worthless, and you can do nothing right.

Work from home ooportunities? Internet jobs? Any ideas? Help us relocate and I will come to you and work my ass off…I have to escape this toxicity known as my family. And I am prepared to help myself but…I can’t find myself right now. Can anyone help? Can you just point me in the right direction? Please…


Posted in anxiety disorders, depression, employment with tags , , , , , , on March 25, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

Yesterday’s abrupt crash into the black “I don’t wanna live” territory has not passed. I’m in a different space but in some ways, it is worse than simply being too exhausted to keep at this shit. My kid is home ‘sick’ with a tummy ache but bouncing off walls playing with her cat and on the tablet, in my face every five seconds. She played me, as usual, but it’s only her second absence this semester so I won’t beat myself up too much. She knew I didn’t have enough gas in the car to come get her if she went and needed to come home, so she kind of preempted the “You’re cured, I’m taking you to school now.” thing. Smart little girl. Like, Deadly Women sociopath smart. Scary.

I am ready to scream. I am at my breaking point. I’ve said this many times before but right now, I truly mean it. I’m no longer bullied by shame or embarrassment or people thinking lowly of me. Hell, I’m not even sure having my kid taken away would be a bad thing, I am obviously not in good shape and it could one day negatively shape her views…When I get this exhausted, this frustrated, this hopeless…

I am accustomed to rapid cycling but this abrupt descent into emotional hell…I can only theorize that it is related to some hormonal riot going on inside my body. I can’t even track that stuff anymore because at my ‘advanced’ female age, things that were normal no longer are. I just know the difference between my normal mood shifts and the drastic shifts when I am hormonal. This reeks of hormones.

And it reeks of outside stressors I can’t control. Like my dad. He called me 8 times over the weekend, even though my kid spent most of the weekend at their house during the day so him bugging me for no reason was just idiotic. It’s not like he calls to ask how I am feeling, how I am doing, etc. He calls to talk about himself, his job, his woman, his son, his neighbor lady, their neighbor boy who is like a grandson to them. Their dogs, their cats, their finances, their vehicles. And of course, their granddaughter which they use like she’s their personal accomplishment.She’s little more than an accessory for their overinflated egos. And I am a non-person in their eyes all because I can’t work and am mentally disabled and they don’t agree with that.

I knew living near them would be hell on earth. I KNEW it. Yet when they get busy and leave me alone for the most part and go days without contact…our lives, or my life, is less hellish, so THEY are indeed a huge problem for me. Their close proximity, anyway. In town it wasn’t such a problem. I have come to accept them as they are, narrow minded bigoted redneck Trump supporting racists who proudly fly the confederate flag in their yard.

Last night, though, I was reminded of what I WILL NEVER cringe at and dismiss in them. Their complete lack of emotional intelligence. Spook had to say goodbye to the neighbor boy who was her first and best and basically only friend here and seeing her say bye and crying ripped at my heart. (Though my summer will be less stressful, I still never wanted her to lose her one friend.) I called dad to ask that their blabber mouth 23 year old man child not say anything about our neighbors moving because they did it last minute to escape his mom and grandma so they haven’t had time to straighten out their son’s schooling and stuff and if they change addresses, it impacts his schooling…

My dad went OFF on me. As in, how dare I think their precious son would give a fuck where my neighbors went and who would he tell and they don’t give a collective damn. I tried to explain how broken hearted Spook is and he said, “Well, tough, they are gone, she needs to get over it. I was in second grade when one of my classmates moved away and I didn’t cry, it’s just the way it is…”

I told him my kid is 9 and I won ‘t treat her like some 19 year old who is being dramatic. Losing your best friend is rough, especially at that age. His lack of compassion, then relaying it to his woman and her in the background caterwalling about ‘tell Ms. Spook to get over it…”

Their ability to grasp emotion is mind boggling. They are the reason they have a 23 year old man child, because they treat him like little more than a yard work mule then let him lay around the house playing video games and not helping with chores other than walking the dogs. My dad has programmed the man child to ball up his fists and become enraged or hide his feelings until they boil over and he lands in a doctor’s office for meds and therapy. They have RUINED my brother. His only goal in life is to marry a skinny pretty WHITE woman who will do all the housework, as well as hold a job so he can spend all his money on video games, while waiting on him hand and foot and being a hooker in the bedroom. THAT is what they taught him. They recently went out in public and were actively trying to set him up with women. Why oh why would you wish that on the poor woman? My brother has no respect for women, they are tits and ass to him whose sole purpose is to take care of him in every way. Cos that’s what his mommy does. He’s 23 and hands her his glasses and says, “Would you clean these, mommy?” It’s the utterly most creepy shit show and I don’t want the front row seat.

So yeah, I’ve got situational stuff going on, I’ve got financal stress (we’re getting our power cut off in April if miracles don’t happen and there;s not a damn thing I can do about it. Even if I went to work right now full time, it’d be 3 weeks before I’d get a check and the power can’t wait that long so…BREATHE, Morgue, breathe…) I almost envy the neighors getting out of this place even though they didn’t want to leave Armpit and plan on coming back. But is it the town I want away from or is it my family and the simple inconvenience of being so far out of town and my kid’s misery?

I just know I am ready to start screaming…and not stop til my voice konks out. I feel powerless and it’s debilitating.

And looking back at my journals from last year at this time, in spite of all we’d been through in such a short time…I can honestly say at this moment I am MORE depressed than I was then. So my meds are not working properly and I don’t know what else to try and since the nurse seems to have no knowledge of med resistance in patience…I don’t hold out much hope for any relief on the horizon.

Screaming might accomplish nothing but trying my best isn’t getting a damn thing done, either.

So I remain like a deer in the headlights, torn between continuing to fight and the desire to check myself into a hospital where I might find competent treatment. Yet I know two days in a locked ward ain’t gonna fix shit. And it would be ample opportunity for the donor or my ass trash family to swoop in, have me deemed unfit, and take my kid away. The depression has me thinking she might be better off but I know it’s not true. I wish I didn’t feel stuff so deeply, it seems so realistic…until it doesn’t.

Plus side is, if this is hormonal related to edging toward menopause, I am due some ups and downs, so this won’t stick. Depression on the other hand, especially when the weather isn’t improving to aid in the seasonal aspect, it doesn’t really lift. And that is terrifying because if my thoughts are this dark now…There’s really no place to go but down.

I truly do need the sun, moon, and stars to align for optimal functionality. And it happens maybe once a month and is very short lived which makes me wonder if it’s worth it. To find such clarity and peace of mind only to cycle out of it. It’s like, you can’t miss what you never had, so maybe the respite is doing more harm than good.

I am lost. And there’s no search party looking for me so I’m…hopeless. Down. Not yet out but pretty goddamn close.

I just want to feel normal and be normal and hold a job and start living life and give my kid things to improve her life and I can’t escape the depressive prison and get enough focus to make it happen.

Stuck and lost.

And the only job I think I could thrive at, working from home, is a unicorn.

I am a deer in the headlights waiting for a car to slam into me and I…cannot…move.