I realized way to late I was having a post traumatic stress attack. I was rightly accused of a rights violation. I walked in to pick up a resident. I tried to calm her down like I have before. This time the audience was too much for me. I felt like I was a demon. Only because I have experienced it before did I know after what had happened. I cried, I missed my exits. I had another resident crying.
The next Monday I was told I would be reprimanded and not fired with one day’s suspension. It would remain in my record a year. I decided to terminate. How can I ever be sure it won’t happen again? How can I even with my Lord know what is in my future with my illness? This will always be in my mind as I would continue to work there. We bipolar suffer from racing thoughts, highs and lows, (mania and depression). Post traumatic stress disorder is a disorder I can’t control. If I feel attacked it is an automatic reaction. Everyone knowing also, better for a sick person like me to be gone. Well I can’t be perfect with my mental illness. I feel like curling up in a ball eternally. Someone told my boss that if one of her employees did this they would be fired on the spot. That was my reason for it. I would fire me on the spot too. They mentioned all the pluses of me, my loving heart and care. I guess I will have to see what else is out there for me. I know I can’t work full-time it was just too much even though I will miss the wonderful ladies I took care of. I had asked to be have my hours reduced but my manager said it could not be done. This was after another very stressful time of people complaining about a new assistant manager. I wanted to quit then. I should have. After all of it they said I could go back to part-time. I had picked up hours since another employee had been hurt on the job. I really thought I could do it. I was working with one day off during the week and every other weekend off. I still look at it as working for the Lord. He will have to send me somewhere else he knows I can handle. I spent three days in bed thinking of ending it again. He didn’t let me.