A Letter From A Reader

, | Hopeless | February 26, 2017

I have disabling depression and anxiety. I have several self-care behaviors to help with them. I go for massages for my muscle knots and try to exercise as much as possible. I have pets I care for daily and my husband who is an angel of understanding.

Every day I have a routine that helps me keep moving and out from under the immobilizing storm clouds. I feed my birds, my dog, clean the kitchen up. I do my yoga, then sit at the computer with my coffee and go on the Internet.

Humor is an amazing antidepressant and so I always head over to Notalwayshopeless.com and the related sites of Not Always Working or Right, Related, Learning, or Friendly. The rich tapestry of human experience, both positive and negative, helps me stay balanced and in touch with others, even though I can’t speak to any of the narrators of their experiences.

I can only hope that the person(s) who run those sites understand that it is a great thing they do, and though it is anecdotal, what a great window into humanity this is for us all.

Thank you to those who do this, I hope they get to see this and receive my thanks. You keep me not always hopeless.

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A Letter From A Reader

, , | Hopeless | February 26, 2017

I have disabling depression and anxiety. I have several self-care behaviors to help with them. I go for massages for my muscle knots and try to exercise as much as possible. I have pets I care for daily and my husband who is an angel of understanding.

Every day I have a routine that helps me keep moving and out from under the immobilizing storm clouds. I feed my birds, my dog, clean the kitchen up. I do my yoga, then sit at the computer with my coffee and go on the Internet.

Humor is an amazing antidepressant and so I always head over to Notalwayshopeless.com and the related sites of Not Always Working or Right, Related, Learning, or Friendly. The rich tapestry of human experience, both positive and negative, helps me stay balanced and in touch with others, even though I can’t speak to any of the narrators of their experiences.

I can only hope that the person(s) who run those sites understand that it is a great thing they do, and though it is anecdotal, what a great window into humanity this is for us all.

Thank you to those who do this, I hope they get to see this and receive my thanks. You keep me not always hopeless.

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Aim Low, Achieve High

, , | Friendly | January 26, 2017

The movie is over and I need to pee. The men’s restroom is full and the lines for the urinals are about seven deep.

Except for one.

You know the one. The one set about a foot lower for the kids. Everyone is looking at it, but nobody is willing to use it. I’m the sort of person who talks in elevators. I guess it’s up to me.

I stand in front of it. Relief.

Boom! Line six deep behind me. But I’m out without waiting. Fortune favors those who are not shy.

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Like Finding A Needle In A Bathroom

, , | Right | January 14, 2017

I work in a 24/7 fast food joint with a public bathroom inside. The shop is next to a popular homeless shelter, and sometimes, someone homeless would come into the bathrooms to “shower.” We cannot turn anyone away from using the bathroom.

One morning, I come in at five am and our night crew lets me know that someone is in the bathroom. After about ten minutes, I hear hollering followed by banging. It sounds like they’re yelling “yoo-hoo!” and have a real good time. I text my night crew and they said it’s been going on since about two am, but they never saw anyone go in. Knocking on the door, no one replies; they just kept yelling.

My manager comes in shortly after and immediately calls the police. It takes the police officers over an hour to get the man to leave the bathroom. I am sent in to clean up after him, and the walls are coated in dirt, blood, and poop. There is toilet paper everywhere, and about a dozen used needles.

My manager tapes garbage bags to my legs and arms, and right before I actually go in, the police stop me because it’s a crime scene. They take ONE needle, and leave.

It took me about two hours to clean it, and I cried while mopping the walls and picking up dirty needles.

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Giving Them Paramedical Attention

, , , | Hopeless | January 7, 2017

(I’m a fifteen-year veteran paramedic. I’ve just come into work to pick up my ambulance and start my shift when my supervisor informs me that I have been scheduled for a meeting with both Human Resources and Quality Assurance the next morning. These meetings are usually a very big deal, meaning that somewhere a policy or procedure in treatment wasn’t followed, and disciplinary action is usually involved. So, not the best news. I spend my shift talking to my paramedic partner about every call we’d run in the month prior, trying to figure out what might have happened, but nothing pops on our radar. Skip to the next morning. I show up for the meeting and everyone is pleasant and there are some people there, with a small infant, that I don’t know.)

Quality Assurance Manager: “[My Name], do you recognize any of these folks?”

Me: “No, sir. I’m afraid I don’t.”

Woman: *holding baby* “My husband and I were involved in a very serious accident three months ago while I was pregnant… a week away from my due date. You and your partner were the first people on scene; they told us later that you drove up, and dove right in without any hesitation whatsoever. You put me onto a helicopter because I was pregnant and sent my husband by ground ambulance to the same hospital so we wouldn’t be separated. After my surgery and emergency C-section I have a healthy me and a healthy, happy child. The trauma doc told us that your decisions on the side of that road saved both me and the baby. Would you like to meet her? I can’t think of any better way to say thank you.”

(I held that darling little girl for the better part of an hour, cooing and feeding her and getting to know her amazing parents. After a round of hugs and many thanks all around, I was absolutely floored that these people had taken the time to hunt us down to say thank you. It doesn’t happen often in my line of work, but the times it does mean so much.)

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