D to tha N to tha C

Yeah. So the city I work/play in is hosting a big 'ol political convention here next week. It's a no holds barred opportunity for the city to showcase itself not only to the president (who has been here several times before anyway) but to the many people who think Charlotte is somewhere in Virginia and is just a po-dunk stop on the side of a highway.

I digress.

My role in this liberal love-fest actually has nothing political about it. though if you ask my family I may as well be escorting the Pres. down to the podium to make an acceptance speech -- (o_0)

Anyway-- it's all hands on deck at the agency these days. 12 hour on/off shifts, no vacations allowed... you get the idea. My role is a bit different. Since I'm a "part-time PIO" (public information officer) I've been plopped into the JIC (joint information center)...

everything in a paramilitary style operation is very big on acronyms...

My specific role in the JIC is that of "media relations" which means I will be fielding phone calls from the media about the convention or specific events related to it.

sounds exciting right? ...... RIIIGHT?

no. it doesn't.

The problem is, I was pulled into this really late in the game. They've been planning for a year yet I've only been on board for a month, maybe 2? Also, the trainings they have had since I've been on board I have not been able to attend for one reason for another. So I am feeling very nervous and unprepared.

but I am excited to be a part of the JIC and to be in the trenches... even if it means I'm the overnight JIC chick... 2200-0600... ouch.

I even get a snazzy outfit:

sexy.

Anyway... the convention begins in 6 days or so. We open the JIC in 3 days... why so early? I dunno. But it means I'm working all weekend... so, there's that.

However it boils down, election wise, I'm still excited to be a part of history...

even if I will be sitting next to a row of windows that could have molotov cocktails thrown into them by protesters (thanks kind officer harrington for pointing that out today).

365.

It's been 365 days since I've been working in EMS. I suppose this means I'll have to get used to not being able to play the "new girl" card anymore.

When I started this job a year ago I didn't realize how much of a different world this is, or how hard it would be to work/play in what is essentially a man's world. It can definitely be overwhelming, but I try my best to go with the flow. I think one of the hardest things to get used to was to go from being someone who helped manage people and run my own ship to learning how to navigate what is a loose-based para-military style way of running things. There is a chain of command. You don't break that chain easily (at least not in my experience). There is a lot of red tape I had never had to deal with before... I never ever expected that.

But there are so many perks...

I think the most rewarding part of the job for me is to meet people who have been brought back from the dead thanks to the efforts of my new co-workers. I'm pretty sure if I were a paramedic (yes-- I know, nightmare scenario) I'd have a pretty solid god complex after my first save.

For example-- today I spoke with a patient who went into cardiac arrest and was brought back to life and is now a happy grateful human being. He actually told me that he wishes he could tell the President of the United States what a great job our crew did and have him thank them as well. That's a pretty solid compliment right there.

I've also been in touch with a woman who performed CPR on her husband for 8 minutes. She saved his life. I mailed her the 911 recording (per her request). On it you can hear her counting chest compressions.  She's frantic and out of breath. It's chilling. She never gave up. Not for a minute. She says the EMS crew are the heroes... but I nominated her for an award anyway.

I had my annual review this week. It was so much better than what I dealt with in my former life-- which basically means as that it didn't end in tears, so I consider that a positive note.

I know there are people I work with who have been at their jobs for close to 30 years. While I don't ever want to think that far into the future (beyond squirreling away money in my 401K) I could see myself getting comfortable here, taking on more of my own stuff. Helping bridge some gaps that desperately need bridging... things of that nature.

but I suppose I'll just have to take it one day at a time.

This is only a drill...

As I've been stumbling through the stressful/fun/crazy world that is EMS, I've had a few chances to do some pretty cool things I never thought I would. So far, I have a brief list:

• Ride on an ambulance in a non-patient capacity
• Witness tearful reunions between people who should be dead, and the crews who brought them back to life
• Participate as a 'patient' in a mass-casualty search & rescue operation

It's this last one that I've been meaning to write about.

Several months ago, a friend of mine at the agency asked me to come take photos of the class they were attending. For the non-EMS people, it's basically a class that teaches paramedics to pick through rubble and triage victims in the event of something catastrophic like a building collapse (think 9/11).

I agreed to not only take photos for them, but also participate in their final test -- as a victim.

So, naturally, it rained relentlessly the day before. The guys all took the class in the rain -- I participated the next day as a victim -- in the mud. I found myself crawling in very claustrophobic space, wearing a helmet, gloves and trying to protect my department's only operating camera.

Viewing the pediatric scenario.

I may appear a girlie girl in the office when I'm playing the role of "carpetwalker" every day at work, but I really love getting dirt under my fingernails and getting muddy. So this was right up my alley. So after crawling around in the various scenarios I watched my friends and co-workers run theirs.

They had to crawl into a dark, black maze that was filled with smoke and package and pull a patient (a real person-- not a dummy) out of the maze blind.

Ok, so I am frankly amazed on a daily basis at the skills of my co-workers. But that day was especially cool. I poked my head inside that black box and couldn't see a damn thing. These guys had to work as a team-- a blind team-- to strap the victim to the backboard and drag him out. It was really fascinating.

The guys.

So-- after their scenario, we went to grab food and wait for it to get dark (and give me a chance to have a giant margarita to prepare myself for tight spaces).

There were approximately a dozen 'victims'-- including myself. After we were given our 'injuries' and doused in fake blood and made up with bruises, we were given our assignments. (sidenote: Yes, fake blood does come out of t-shirts and khakis-- but NOT lingerie)

Only one other person there worked at the Agency with me-- and we met for the very first time, then dove into a tiny spider hole together. It was so damn cold and muddy. He and I were laying on a yoga mat underneath a concrete overpass (that was barely 3 inches from our faces) in the mud, and I started shivering -- violently. So, about 25 minutes after I met my new co-worker, I was getting very friendly with him, stealing his body heat. It was quite a moment.

Fortunately for me, I was the first one dragged out of my hidey hole.

This is fortunate for several reasons:

1. I was freezing.
2. My co-workers-- the ones taking the course-- threatened to cut off my clothes to do a "thorough search" for injuries if they were the ones that found me. They weren't.
1. sidenote: I've been told several times since I started this job almost a year ago that I'd better never get in a wreck in our county-- the clothes will go even if it's a fractured finger. It's a paramedic threat... they all think it's a hilarious joke. :)

Anyway, I was the first pulled out-- so I got a firsthand look at all the other rescues-- and got myself a warm blanket and some lysol wipes to clean off the fake blood (there was a TON of it). The class leaders turned on loudspeakers to add noise. This wasn't just any noise-- it was noise that you would hear at the site of a building collapse: sirens, jackhammers, screams, large equipment being moved, etc. It was deafening. I don't know how they managed to work through it-- but they all did. They never stopped.

I tried to stay out of the way of the crews as they were working, but I was so completely fascinated by everything that was going on I couldn't help it.

I enjoyed the hell out of it.

The tour.

I gave an agency tour to a kid and his mom last week. Agency tours fall to me basically because they're in my job description, even though I am really not great with kids. A tour typically entails me walking people through our building, showing them our simulation lab, the ambulance bay and our 911 dispatch center, etc.

So my tour last week came after a string of particularly crappy work-related events that were beyond anyone's control. Just file them under "shit happens"... I honestly think the tour could not have come at a better time to help cheer me up.

The mom pulled her autistic son from public schools where he was not getting the proper attention he needed. She is now homeschooling him and wanted to show him all the kinds of community helpers there are. This includes the police, fire department and of course our paramedics.

Her son is somewhere around age 10 (I think, I'm not great with judging the age of children based on size) but functions on the level of a 5 year old. He was thrilled with the trucks lined up in  a row. I asked a paramedic who is on light duty to help show off the truck for me, since that's not really my area. Matt was super patient with the kid, Patrick's his name, and took time to show him the truck inside and out... turning the lights on, then off, then on at Patrick's request. Patrick took a ton of photos with his camera. One photo of each side of the truck, with lights on and off.

His mom seemed thrilled with their visit, and she says Patrick got a lot out of it. I hoped it was true, and didn't think more of it until I got a little package in the mail today. It was a thank-you card from Patrick's mom, and 2 handmade cards from Patrick, 1 for me, the other for Matt.

Mine's going on my desk, to remind me why I love my job if I'm ever having a hard day (though those days are few and far between)...

A PR girl and 2 paramedics walk into the homeless shelter...

I am shocked, SHOCKED I tell you. I forgot to relive for you the best part of my past month.

Being a former TV news person, I'm not used to having Christmas off, much less other holidays like MLK Jr. day. So, I decided why start now? While all my carpetwalker counterparts were sleeping in on MLK day, I was riding along with a crew on a truck/ambulance. This required me being there for the entire 14 hour shift... and waking up at 4:30 am. Needless to say, I was almost late and ALMOST missed the truck.

So, I rode with a Medic veteran and a newbie to Medic. These two have only been partners for a split second. Both are very nice and easy to talk to... and not bothered by seemingly endless, obscure questions from a nosy PR girl...

I digress.

So, we got our first call immediately... a psychiatric call at the uptown men's shelter... now, this place is a real gem. I used to pass by there each and every day when I worked in TV. Most of these guys are fine. But there are several who like to play frogger with your car... which can be frustrating when I'm half asleep and caffeine deprived...

Anyway, the call was a guy saying he was having suicidal thoughts. So off we went. I will take this moment to say I have never been more relieved when I heard the firefighters (who got there before us) tell me the patient was walking out to the truck, and we wouldn't have to go inside. I would have gone inside, but I really REALLY didn't want to... The first thing the patient said when he got to the foot of the ramp and saw me: "oh, I see I've got some eye candy for the ride"... does this sound like a guy having suicidal thoughts? No, not quite... but who are we to judge...

He wanted to go to a hospital that couldn't have been further away... and I had to endure him making passes at me for about a third of the way. The paramedic I rode in the back with said he would have stopped him if he went too far talking to me... but the smile on his face when he said it left me slightly skeptical. I had to pull out the "well my husband wouldn't really like if I went on a date with you" card. I said this as the paramedic turned on the vent to get the rank body odor smell out of the truck...

This patient proceeded to tell us about his new fiancee who is deaf, but he did not know she was deaf for the first two weeks he was dating her... yes. you read that correctly.

Anyway, we walk into the ED and immediately the nurse says "is that 'so and so'" I replied yes... and she told us he only comes there to socialize, and to put him in the waiting room... even though he said he was having suicidal thoughts... that's a big no-no, and I'm pretty sure it's not legal, but what do I know about medicine? They even had a poster on the back of one of their doors that says "if 'so and so' comes here, call his legal guardian immediately and put him in the waiting room.' Me and the guys agreed that cannot be legal ether...

After that we spent several hours parked in a harris teeter parking lot... where I caught up on my sleep. From there it was boring, routine stuff... about 6 calls that somehow all involved the 3 of us getting into a teeny elevator with the stretcher. Not easy. I also got to see one of the guys start an IV line on a 100+ year old man with the flu. His thin skin and hard to find veins were a problem and he actually said "I'm not going to make this on the first try."... but he did, in the back of a moving truck. I was impressed, but as we've established, it doesn't take much to impress me...

All of this was very mundane to the crew I was with. They were bummed it wasn't more exciting for me, but I had fun... I guess it's all about perspective, and being called eye candy at 6 am.

Ernest.

Ernest is apparently our newest Medic "resident"... and by that, I mean he's the latest cadaver that's in our anatomy lab. At least, that's what one of my new paramedic friends tells me. He says he got to do a procedure on Ernest today... of which I know nothing about, but which I'm sure was very exciting.

I've been at Medic since September, and have yet to have the privilege of venturing into that lab. It's not that I wouldn't love to, I just haven't been invited in, and it's kept behind lock and key so I can't exactly 'accidentally' wander into it.

I hope Ernest, whether that's his real name or not, knows how much the donation of his mortal remains is helping our crews train. It's really an awesome thing to do.

My great GREAT uncle died from advanced melanoma last year. It came on fast, as far as I can tell, and he was very sick for a very short time. He donated his body to science. To Vanderbilt University in Nashville. He wanted the doctors there to use his cancer-ridden body to learn what they can about melanoma.

As someone who had melanoma, at the ripe old age of 21, my great great uncle's generosity is really especially awesome to me. My mom didn't even tell me it was melanoma until after he died. She was afraid it would freak me out, which it did. My translucent skin didn't take well to the sun, but growing up on the coast, what choice did I have? Now I've got a pretty scar on my arm where a mole used to be, and I thank myself each day for being so smart to recognize it had morphed into something scary looking... now I'm an advocate of mole checks and sunscreen... and a hater of tanning beds (though I never used one myself...)

But my uncle's donation has me thinking. I've always wanted to be cremated. The whole having people stare at you dead and then be buried in a box thing isn't really my style... but now I'm thinking, what if my body could do others good too? The possibilities are really limitless. Organ donation, my eyes could help someone else see... or whole-body donation... nurses, paramedics or doctors could use my body to learn new skills and help give better treatment to the living...

or if my melanoma comes back one day, and finishes what it started, maybe I can end up being the reason some researcher finds a cure for the disease... and singlehandedly save thousands... maybe.

EMT.

One of our paramedics told me a story the other day about a cardiac call he ran involving a very young girl. The child was younger than 2, and had a heart complication. this paramedic described how he was in the back of the ambulance, with this girl dying in his arms, praying out loud to God in front of all the firefighters that he would get his IV line placed in time before she died. He did it, and she improved.

Yesterday, I was in the back of an ambulance on a ridealong. We were transporting a very sick 91-year-old man to the hospital. He had the flu and a rising temperature. He was dehydrated, needed fluids. My friend, the paramedic treating him, took the time to show me how to put together an IV, and then demonstrated how to place it in the man's vein. He explained everything to me, teaching me. He explained how hard it was to start a line on an old person because their veins roll, their skin is thin... then, while in the back of a moving ambulance, on an interstate at 60 miles an hour, and even though he clearly was nervous, he landed the needle in the man's arm perfectly and got him the fluids he needed to save his life.

I've decided I'm going to take the EMT class. The PR girl is crossing that invisible line between field and the administrative side, of only in a very small way. It's only a semester. 2 nights a week, a few saturdays. I want to have even a fraction of a clue what the men and women I represent do each day. I won't be a paramedic, I will only be allowed to do basic life saving, but that will be enough for me. And, selfishly, I'm hoping it will help me stand out to the crews in the field... maybe I won't be just a 'carpet walker'...

I'm going to school in the fall. I can't wait.

ambulance driver.

Yesterday while running calls on a truck (which I love doing by the way, no matter how boring it can get) we went to a outpatient surgery center where one of the surgeons proceeded to call the two uniformed men with me "ambulance people"... now, until I started working here, I had no idea how much those words stung to the EMTs and Paramedics who risk life and limb for stupid ass pirates (he and his team had just screwed up a woman's colonoscopy) like himself. I was hurt for them. It is degrading and embarrassing to have the profession you're so proud of demeaned and belittled. This surgeon made me fiercely angry.

I was so mad I woke up this morning, still pissed off. I texted the younger paramedic who I rode with yesterday and about the fact that I was still mad... he had gotten over it. He is used to it. Which is fucking sad. I am still angry for him, and for all the other people that asshat surgeon insulted with that one comment.

So, below, I've copied a post one of my new friends put on his facebook page. It is a bit long, but well worth a read and will help any laymen understand why that surgeon's comment was so insulting:


If any of you ever wonder why WE (EMT's and Paramedics) hate being called an ambulance driver….. this is why… 

You wouldn’t call a policeman a police-car driver or a firefighter a firetruck driver…. so, why call us Ambulance Drivers……

I am Just an ambulance driver, you say as I am on the scene of a vehicle accident that has a popular high school student that is trapped in the submedged S.U.V. in the creek as I’m standing in chest deep water,freezing rain falling and stinging as it hits the exposed parts of my body. Holding her head above water to keep her from drowning until rescue could get there to cut her free—
BUT I’M JUST AN AMBULANCE DRIVER

I comfort a 89 year old woman who just watch me and my partner cover the face of her husband of 64 years as he lay dead in their bathroom floor—
BUT I’M JUST AN AMBULANCE DRIVER

I am on scene at another mva with mom trapped upside down in her car and her dead sons body laying on top of her without a second thought for my own safety i crawl into the wreckage to take C-spine control and calm the frantic lady—
BUT I’M JUST AN AMBULANCE DRIVER

I get called away from my just prepared meal to respond to the middle of B.F.E to a house with no numbers,no porch light on,nobody waiting to signal us in and they because we took too long only to find out the patient left in there own vehicle ten minutes ago…so we smile and walk away from the verbal lashing only because we are
JUST AMBULANCE DRIVERS

I stand in the middle of the street at midnight on the wrong side of town trying to patch the holes and stop the bleeding of a 19 year old shooting victim with the occasional bullet wizzing past our heads we never break stride because this kids life is in our hands—
BUT I’M JUST AN AMBULANCE DRIVER

Or how bout doing chest compressions on a 16 year old girl who decided this life was more than she could take.Her family screaming at us to help as though we are the ones who did this to her.Her lifeless body flailing about as the tube goes in and IV’s being started, my arms and back burning from the pain of 30 minutes of CPR never once giving up, hoping she would make it through and over come whatever lead her to this bad decision—-
BUT I’M JUST AN AMBULANCE DRIVER

Death is all around me and still i go home to live my life
i get kicked,hit,spit on, bled on, puked on,cussed at and disrespected…
i look into the eyes of a lifeless child at 7am and by 8 am i’m holding my child a little tighter and they know nothing about what happened. i have hundreds of hours of classroom time
years of in the field experience i have challenged death and won.

i’ve helped the helpless
i’ve neglected my family for yours
i find comfort in complete chaos
i eat cold meals if i eat at all
i work with no sleep for days at a time
i miss birthdays,holidays and school functions
i put myself in harms way for a total stranger on a daily basis

ALL BECAUSE I AM JUST AN AMBULANCE DRIVER

I AM AN AMBULANCE DRIVER!!! I DRIVE 90 MPH THROUGH CONJESTED TRAFFIC FULL OF PEOPLE WHO REFUSE TO YEILD RIGHT OF WAY WHILE MY PARTNER STANDS UNRESTRAINED IN THE BACK OF THIS SCREAMING LAND MISSLE SAVING YOUR LOVED ONES LIFE!! NEVER ONCE DOES HE QUESTION MY DRIVING HE KNOWS THAT AT THE END OF THIS SHIFT HE WILL GO HOME TO HIS FAMILY SAFELY BECAUSE I AM AN AMBULANCE DRIVER….

backtrack.

I've realized a huge 6-month chunk has been left out of my lifeblog.

I'll fill my nonexistent readers in.

June 2011: {this is where most of my last posts left off} left my job as a successful tv news producer, after self-destructing and having homicidal thoughts about my boss, leaving my financial fate to my husband... bless his heart.

July-August 2011: spent 3 months in my pajamas being the worst housewife ever... bombed 1 interview for a job I didn't really want anyway...

September 2011: after a phone interview, 2 on 1 interview, a "you do a presentation to us and our boss" interview, AND a "take you out to lunch so the girl you'll share an office will evaluate you" meeting, (count 'em-- 4 interviews) I was hired at a local EMS agency in the pr department, having had no pr experience whatsoever. I thank my lucky stars.

Over the past few months I've been slowly learning and acclimating to the EMS world. It's exciting to be a part of such a rapidly evolving industry. It is not anything I ever thought I'd have the privilege to be a part of. I have crossed over from the dark side of TV news. I am now the PIO being hounded by media for information (a very odd thing for me)...

I have tried, maybe too hard, to make friends with the women and men in the field because, even though they don't know it, I feel like I fit in better with them than I do the other office folks... aka "carpet walkers"... We have the same black humor I developed after working half a decade in a newsroom... but most of them don't have a flying clue who I am or what I do... so it tends to be slightly frustrating. I'm not good when I'm left to my own devices...

I walked into our 911 dispatch center one day recently (after working there for about 3 months) and heard someone yell not very subtly "who is THAT and WHAT does she do HERE?"... I was honestly kind of embarrassed. I don't know why... but I think it has a lot to do with where I came from. It was a much smaller staff that I considered family... and I knew everyone... I was the fucking queen bee... and now? nobody even knows my job title or what it means (Community Engagement Coordinator... I deal with the public, yo.)

It is important to bear in mind that just 5 years ago, the PR department at my agency was all but non-existent. It's a growing and changing beast, this business. Yesterday I spoke with a veteran paramedic who has been with the agency since I was 2 years old, and really, before the agency was even an agency. He told me the industry has changed in ways he never thought possible. When he was but a young paramedic, he never imagined there would even be a need for a community outreach person... much less a PR department 3-women strong. I imagine that has to be tough, to see so many changes. But I can't help but think it's for the better, right?

It's kinda lonely in my office without the police scanners we had at the news station... it's too fucking quiet... I find myself making up reasons to wander into our dispatch center just to hear some sense of normalcy.

I've made tremendous progress making friends, I think. Not the "go out and have a beer together" kind of friends, yet... but maybe we'll get there... I hope...

unemployment.

I'm day 5 into unemployment. It's been pretty much what I expected. I wake up, I drink coffee in bed until I feel like getting a shower and cleaning/organizing my house. I'm kind of in a holding pattern. Samaritan's purse said I'd hear about the job I interviewed for by this week. So I'm kind of hesitant to apply for any other jobs at the moment.

Enough about jobs/work/lackofwork.

My parents and sister are coming up today for part of the weekend. Dad's going to drive a NASCAR around the track in concord... it was a birthday present-- because what ELSE do you get for the man who has everything and wants nothing? :)

Matt's little brother Nick is moving in this month. I've been cleaning/clearing our guest room so he can take over. It's a lot harder than I thought to condense 3 rooms into 2. We've piled my Jeep with stuff to take to Goodwill. It feels kind of therapeutic to clear it all out.

I realize the longer I'm unemployed the more boring my writing may become. *sigh*

done.

It's done. This week I turned in my notice to Channel 9. I handed it in and immediately felt this surge of power. A rush. I have not regretted it once. My coworkers all seem thrilled for my newfound happiness. I'm so glad I followed my heart.

So what now? That's a question I've been getting a lot. My boss sent a note to the newsroom making it sound like I'd accepted a paying job with my local habitat affiliate that I have been volunteering with. This is not the case and I'm fairly certain that she just said that to avoid having to tell people that I'd rather be unemployed than work in that dark dungeon any longer.

I want to write. For real. I want to write a book. I want to write for magazines. I want to volunteer even more for habitat. I want to take disaster training classes with the red cross and get deployed to help natural disaster victims who live hundreds of miles away. I want to give back to the world that has given so much to me.

Matt, while he is willing to support me financially, is not so keen on my idealism. He wants me to find a paying job that makes me happy. He is supporting me because not so long ago he was not happy with his job... and I backed him 100%. That's what we married folk do. We have each other's backs.

I have some potential freelance work. It involves linking myself to a former anchor who is known for outbursts of rudeness and complete disorganization... but hey, if it pays the bills...

Either way, I'm following my heart. I'm doing something that will open new doors. I will be happy. I won't eat 2 meals a day at my desk. I will have windows to look out of. I will go outside. I will bid goodbye to the profession that has claimed my eyesight and probably a good 10 years off my lifespan. My last day is the friday after Memorial day...

I may not be done with news for good. This may just be a break in the road. In a year, if I get the urge, my non-compete clause of my contract will be up and I can go any damn where I want to produce. Including our direct competition across town which is known for being a much more manageable work environment...

I'm pretty darn pleased with myself.

oh yeah, and I got an amazing new tattoo. It's a section of a stained glass window from a church where we stayed while cleaning up after Katrina. I am so proud of it. It reminds me of the love, trust and gratefulness between complete strangers during times of disaster. It reminds me to give back.

the note.

So, there's this thing with the managers in my newsroom. They only like to send notes about personnel changes out when it's something good, or someone's leaving. I've been there nearly 5 years and they have NEVER sent out a note when they've demoted someone.

So last week, I sent out my own.

It was professional, concise and to the point. No drama needed.

It was a note I should have never had to send myself. My own demotion note.

But after all, they told me I could tell people however I wanted. That is how I wanted to do it. Graciously acknowledging the coworker who got promoted-- and greatly deserved it-- and telling everyone the plan...

Did it suck? yes. I didn't want to do it. But the coworker who got my show deserved that much respect at least...

Meanwhile, I'm continuing to slide down the rabbit hole that is my desire to leave. I told my mother today that I feel like there's a giant magnet pulling me away from that place. Telling me it's not where I need to be anymore. An entrepreneur I sought advice from yesterday lit the fire under me with his "well what are you waiting for?" approach... and what am I waiting for? I'm only young once. I can't be chained down by a dumb job making $47K a year. It's not worth it. There will be other jobs. But I've only got one life.

I've been talking to God a lot lately. See, this is not the easiest thing for me. I'm stubborn. Thought I didn't need him... and look where it got me. The truth of the matter is, lately I've been so overwhelmed with so many things, I just need to put off my burden and lean on him... he's propping me up at this point.

I'm quitting my job. Soon. I can't say this way. I can't stay in such a dark place. I'm planning on putting in my notice mid-May... 2 weeks. Then 2 more weeks and I'm free. I'm never looking back.

I'm scared. It's like... this big thing that I thought I needed to fulfill me... that I thought would make me whole and fill me up turned out not to be that at all. I got up close... got near it, and discovered it was filled with vinegar. Filled with every ugly thing that I don't want in my life.

I don't have another job to go to... I don't even have any solid prospects. But I do have a loving husband who for some reason is willing to put up with my unemployed self and support me in my crazy endeavor to find whatever fulfillment I'm searching for.

I'm thinking of writing a book. I've got a few thoughts mulling around in my brain. That could at least keep me occupied while I search for my next big thing.

In many ways, I'm so lucky. I'm so grateful. I'm so blessed.

So overwhelmed.

I've just got to take a deep breath, and jump.

Help.

something happened, and a switch flipped. I don't love producing tv news anymore. I hoped the feeling would wear off. that it would go away. but it hasn't. It has stayed much, much longer than I wanted it to. it hurts. it kills me. because it's always what I wanted to do... I'm not sure what i am going to do without it.

I loved it. I felt energized and challenged. Now I feel like I've aged 10 years. i have been dragged thru the depths by bad management who can't figure out why people don't want to stay there. why people don't want to watch us. i don't understand why they've watched so long.

i've been reaching out. trying to make connections. i'm not good at it. i am not good at reaching out for help. but I also know i can't write or format a resume to save my life. i have no idea even where to start on my search. fortunately i have many people who love and care for me who want to help. i hope that it is thru them that i can find a new direction.

I want to help people. sounds cliche, I know... but i want to do something with my life that helps improve other lives. that helps society and will reward me not in money necessarily (though that would be nice) but in peace within my soul. i want peace.

right now, i don't have that.

i have anxiety.