(TW: Trauma, New Baseline, Medical BS)
Is it just me, or does it seem like the new year rolls around, just as soon as you feel like you’ve gotten used to writing down the last one on the paperwork at your doctor’s office? It’s always when you get used to change that more change happens, and then you have to deal with new change.
If you didn’t know… I don’t like change. Like a lot of neurodivergent people, I find change to be hard, and sometimes almost impossible. So to have gotten through 2022 without what some people would call “too much” trauma, is kind of a win for me. But that’s just it though, there was trauma. A lot of it.
In 2022, I chose to take on one of the biggest challenges, for me personally. In February, I decided that I was going to take my tax return of the year, and finally do something fun. I drove up to Winnipeg in April to pick up Angel. It was my first time outside of the USA, my first time driving cross-country, and doing so by myself. It was also my first time in Canada, ever, which was more exciting than I thought it would be. From there, we drove back to Illinois, and spent Easter together as a family, and the next week we were off.
Together, the two of us drove through Iowa to Utah, where we got to see, and meet our favorite band, Citizen Soldier in concert! Meeting Jake and the band was lifechanging, and they even gave us signed drum covers from the show once they found out how far we’d driven just to see them. They are honestly the sweetest people, and I feel beyond lucky to have gotten to meet them. (I had never driven through mountains before, and it was terrifying but, honestly it was worth it.)
While out in Utah, we got to stay in a gorgeous hotel room (after a mishap with our original room) and that just made the experience so much more amazing. We also went to Midway Crater, where we spent an our in the most amazing hot springs. (Another first.)
We drove back through Denver, making a trip that I always wanted to do with my Mom, so we could go to Voodoo Donuts. A place we saw on the Food Network, years ago. We got the voodoo doll donut, as well as pictures of the storefront with a Mountain Dew for mom. I like to think that she was with us in spirit. From there, we got the heck out of dodge.
We were both homesick, tired of mountains, and feeling the elevation sickness unlike anything we’d expected. Maybe that’s our fault- but we aren’t mountain people, so how were we to know? The drive back through the mountains was something else entirely. We got rerouted multiple times due to the fires out that way, and that was honestly, a scary experience. One that, like all of the bumps we faced along the road, we handled together.
An experience that, I honestly, wouldn’t change for the world.
I wouldn’t trade my co-pilot for the world.
We laughed, cried, and sometimes snapped at each other- as people who are close sometimes do. After all, in February, our friendship will officially be 18-years old. 18-years strong. 18-years unbreakable. We came back to Illinois different, changed.
But that wasn’t the only change this year. I also lost my job of 5-years due to a lot of ableist, unfair bullshit. Things that get businesses shut down, and job boards involved, things that if spoken about and put online… well, let’s just say that business would no longer be in business. I am petty, with a capitol P-E-T-T-Y, and I could put those things online but, I won’t. I want to tell you that it was a good job but, as the months have gone on, I realize just how physically, mentally, and emotionally draining and damaging it was. Never again will I work for a “boss” who would rather allow their workers to be abused verbally and emotionally, than actually get involved again. One who would so easily throw away a good worker after 5-years based on false information, and based upon a lie with no proof.
Personally, I think the truth behind it was that I was getting sicker.
Because that is one of the changes that I have gone through this year. My health has been declining. My pain has increased, my mobility has decreased, and with it so has my tolerance of bullshit. She (the boss) probably noticed that when my version of customer service went from “sure, you can abuse me all you want” to calling her when things went sour, and expecting her to fix problems that had been overlooked for a long, long time. I also stopped being the person who, you could call 5-minutes before a shift started, when someone called out, to fill in. Because honestly… I just couldn’t do it anymore.
I was expected to be at work the day after major spinal surgery, twice. The day after my gallbladder was taken out. The day after nerve blocks that should have had me at home, in bed, constantly. I was expected to work shifts that did not belong to me, at last-second notice. Even though I had family obligations, doctor’s appointments, and other things that I needed to be doing. But I was the one who lived the closest, didn’t have kids, no husband or spouse, so even if I said no or that I couldn’t I was still coerced into doing it anyways.
I worked through the dead of winter when the heat went out. Multiple times. And she wouldn’t let me shut down the store and go home, even though there was no heat, and it was -15. I worked through the heat of summer where the AC went out, and it was over 100 degrees in the building. Winter, when the door literally rusted off of it’s hinges and fell off. Or my favorite, when the sewers were backing up through all of the drains, and I was expected to manage that while waiting for a plumber, ruining my shoes, even though I was in a leg brace at the time. -I have receipts, screenshots, and pictures to back up all of these things. My memory may not always be perfect due to my health conditions, and the medications that I take but, one thing can be said for my memory. I have a very strong sense of self-preservation. One that leads me to keep documents of everything for a very, very long time.
I also worked on the night my mom died- where I was terrified, I was going to get fired because at midnight I closed the place despite a car being in the parking lot. Something I will never apologize for because, I got home in time. I got home before she left, forever.
But you know what, that’s fine.
Let her be a toxic, abusive boss because, this year gave me something. I started my journey of getting on disability (still working on it) and I got my first walker/rollator. I got my first wheelchair. I got my leg braces, and I got another spinal surgery. And I was allowed to heal from that surgery- or try to- because I did not have someone ignoring my doctor’s notes, ignoring my needs, asking why I wasn’t lifting boxes that were well over the 5lb limit that she knew that I had.
The amount of things I could say about this workplace would blow your mind. Some good- because when I first started, it was a good job. The owner, my boss, truly seemed to care about us. But in the end, when I could no longer be the drop everything and run, girl. The, go in for a morning shift, night shift called off, double girl. The running constantly, even though I was exhausted, girl… everything changed.
For a while, I thought I missed it.
I thought that I missed it but, I knew that I didn’t really miss it. I didn’t miss the place; I didn’t miss Gigi’s. I missed Megan, Cindy, and Manny. I missed the friends that I’d made there. I missed Kim, Denise, and Frank. I missed Old John- coffee, 2 creams, in a to-go cup. I missed Barb and Warren, one Coke, two straws. I missed Joe, Mr. Modelo, who always tipped whether he won or not, and had the best attitude. I missed the people. I missed my friends. I missed the times that I would sit there, with a coffee, and a good book and talk to the kind people I’d meet. I missed the times where I could work on my writing, and the people who knew I wrote would ask me about it. I missed the good ones.
But I didn’t miss the owner. Because she would rather let people sit there and verbally abuse me, talk down to me, slam their hands on the machines, throw things, and be abusive than protect her employees. She would rather make money than pay us a living wage, even though she knew that with all of the hours, and the strange hours she gave, we couldn’t get other jobs, cutting us off RIGHT at the edge of where she would have to give us healthcare. Most of all, I didn’t miss having problems, and being unable to reach her when I needed help, or guidance, or my boss to just do her fucking job…
And someday, I might tell you all about it but, that day isn’t going to be today.
Angel left in May, and we thought that would be it for a little while. However, due to some things that aren’t mine to tell, in July I wound up getting in the Jeep and taking off like a bottle rocket. She was here with me from July 9th until the 8th of November, when due to our countries respective (and idiotic) laws, she had to go back to Canada, where she didn’t want to be.
Those months together were something else.
Just like in April, when I first picked her up, we embarked on what would prove to be one hell of an adventure. She went with me to all of my doctor’s appointments, was there when I got my EDS diagnosis, and took care of me after I had my second DRG placement surgery. We laughed, cried, and went everywhere together.
Chinatown. Dumplings. Chicago. Milwaukee. Milwaukee Co. Zoo for Family Free Day. Shopping. Appointments. Hospital Trips. Food Bank runs. Cooking dinner together almost every night. Learning how to make BBQ sauce from scratch. Trying new foods together… Gaining my independence back and learning to ask for help. Learning to let her take on half the driving, or more, if she wanted to do it.
This year was… a lot.
More than a lot. In a word, this year was… un-fucking-forgettable.
This year was tough, and stressful but it taught me what I was worth. It showed me what I was good for, and good at, and that I deserve better than a dead-end job that did not value me as a human being, a worker, or anything it else, even though I gave it my all for as long as I could. It showed me who my true friends are, and who the people I want in my life are.
2022 was unforgettable.
Hopefully, 2023 will bring Growth.
Have a safe, Happy New Year.
-Sky
Skyla N. Lambert
Author | Blogger | Bookworm | Growing
E. skylanarissalambert@gmail.com
Leave a comment