... or not so much...

I called back the Human Rights Commission to file my complaint today and was told that I actually did NOT have grounds to file a human rights violation complaint. I wish I had known that before I went and got the developer angry. This is not good.

So now what the HRC told me was that I have to call the building code people back and see if there's anything in the code stopping me from building a ramp. If there is, then there's nothing I can do. If there isn't, then she said I should approach the builders and ask if they would build a ramp at my expense. If they will, great. If they won't then there is nothing stopping me from building my own. If the developer gives me a hard time about building a ramp when I am entitled to, THEN I can file a human rights violation complaint.

Man, this is complicated!

Oh, it's on!

Well, I spoke with the condo person this morning and was told that unequivocally there is nothing they can do to make a unit balcony wheelchair accessible on the outside. He tried to turn my attention to their other non-balcony units of which there are a couple per floor, one being a bachelor pad, which I am not willing to downsize to. So, at this point I mentioned that I had talked to the Human Rights Commission and was told that they felt I had grounds to file a human rights violation complaint. He tells me "well, fine, if that's the way you're going to proceed, do that. Goodbye" and hangs up.

Here a right, there a right, everywhere a right right. Right!

Well, I spoke with the condo developer this morning and was shot down. He tells me that ramping the balcony would not be possible, levelling it even more impossible. I told him that was discrimination, to which he replied it was not. Well, I called the Human Rights Commission, and they agree with me. So, I emailed the developer back and asked him to clarify some of what we talked about. I was extremely upset when I talked to him and when I hung up I hadn't processed all the details. I emailed and asked exactly how high the lip out to the balcony was, and said that if it were only 4 inches, that would mean a ramp of maybe 12-18 inches and I asked for clarification as to whether that was not possible. During our conversation, he had mentioned something about building envelopes and how they were in place to prevent water from entering the condo and causing damage to the buildng. I mentioned in the email to him that a ramp would still have all the water rolling down, and not in the unit. He also said all the balconies had to be uniform. I asked if I could build a ramp myself as well. I haven't heard back from him yet, but if answers me to the negative, then I will go ahead and tell him I spoke with the Human Rights Commission and that they feel I have grounds for a complaint and that the building would have to try to accomodate me.

I have been absolutely unproductive at work today. I've holed myself in with the door shut. I've stopped crying, so that's a good thing, but I am so angry and feel so very helpless... and can't forget tired.

Over and out.

Blahs

I'm having a blah day. It's been one of those weeks where everything seems to be a struggle and not much seems to go my way. I still think this condo thing is going to work out, but let me tell you, it has been tough! I have talked to a zillion different people and organizations in my city with not much positive outcome. I finally ended up emailing the newspaper with my story as I have been so frustrated. I was supposed to meet with the building interior designer on Friday. She didn't show up. When I called her 20 minutes after we were supposed to meet, she answered her cell phone and said "oh, well, I have to go home and feed my kid before she has to go back to school and I really should talk with the architects first before we meet." Don't you think she should have mentioned to me that she wasn't going to meet me when she figured out all that other stuff? She called me back later to tell me she had spoken with the project developer who was not willing to make changes to the balcony plans because "he feels he has already made enough concessions for the building to be accessible". Umm... what the hell???? He's building a building where people in wheelchairs can't get on the unit balconies, nor can they get on the pool deck. What the hell IS accessible about the building? The freaking front door? The fact that it's a 20 some storey building with ELEVATORS?? Well! Thank you very much for your kind consideration in making those amenities accessible. How freaking whiny of me to expect you to actually make the LIVING SPACE accessible. Holy freaking god.

Anyway, on speaking with my brother, we thought building a ramp would be the best way to go. I looked in the yellow pages and found a company that makes custom built ramps. One that would be removeable or foldable would be cool. I'll call them tomorrow to see what they have to say. I still can't believe 8 inches can be such a freaking hellish experience.

So Saturday, I headed to the gym to get my dose of eye candy and adrenaline, as well as to let go of some angst. Instead, Sunday guy is there. I say hello and politely ask him what he's doing there on a Sunday. (I'm very proud of myself for not blurting out "What the hell are you doing here taking the place of beautiful Saturday guy, you bastard?"). Turns out at Sunday guy's request, they've switched schedules for the summer. Former Saturday guy now works during the week when I'm at work. I may not see him until September, or ... ever! This was especially upsetting after last week when I finally had a bit of a longer convo than the previous disastrous one. I had this week all planned out too. Grrrrrrrrrrr!

My washroom project website is not showing up in Google. Not sure what's up with that. I've gotten no replies about it. Blah.

Oh, and I went to see The Breakup today. Blah.

On a non-blah note, I met up with this woman from a writing class I had taken. We are going to meet every couple of weeks in an effort to keep the motivation to write and bounce stuff off each other.

Tomorrow's Monday. Blah.

Red tape sucks

Well, I am no further along than before on this condo balcony issue. I haven't actually been able to speak to anyone, only leave multiple messages left and right. I called back the Paraplegic Association and got some more contacts. They actually look quite promising, but who knows. The sales rep. has put the condo I'm interested on hold, but it can't stay there forever. I am discouraged, but not done yet. They have chosen to mess with a social worker, unlucky them!!! En garde!!

DIE DIE DIE!!!!!

In case you may not have noticed, I'm a little angry today. I went to see Condo rep woman on the weekend to bring her my list of questions. One question was regarding the balcony. It will have a hump to get out, about 1 foot high. I asked if they could make it level so I could have access to my balcony. She said she would fax my questions to the builder. She called me today to tell me she heard back from him and that the balcony access would be an issue. They could not make the balcony door level due to potential water damage leaking in the apartment. I called an Independent Living Centre to ask if anything could be done. She said "basically, no". So then I said, "so, that means that people in wheelchairs can never have apartments or condos with balconies?" She said "basically, yes". So finally, I asked "what if I decide to renovate it myself?" She said "you can't change the structure of a building or they could sue you". Nice. I then called the Canadian Paraplegic Association. The woman I needed to speak with wasn't there so I left a message. She returned my call and left me a message giving me the name of someone who, she said, "knows everything". I will give him a call tomorrow. I just can't believe this. This is a new place that they haven't even begun to build yet! I'm also going to call the building code people. There has to be something that can be done. I am incensed!!!!

Idiot

I am an idiot. Sure, I have 2 BAs, a BSW and an MSW, but it doesn't matter. I remain an idiot. I went to the gym today. Hot gym guy was there! I hadn't seen him for almost 2 months, so I assumed he had either changed shifts or left. I had kind of given up hope of seeing him again. Very disappointing. So today, when I arrived and saw him, I was so flabbergasted, that I could hardly speak in sentences. He wasn't at the counter, but in the back room and I could see him through the window. He saw me and came out to the front. Our conversation goes somewhat like this:

Me: Hey
Him: Hey, how's it going?
Me: Good, you?
Him: Good. Is it hot out?
Me: Yeah, very.
Him: Really? It was cool when I came in.
Me: (rummaging in my bag) I can't find my swipe card.
Him: It's ok, I can enter you on the computer.
Me: Oh, wait, there it is.
Me: (having swiped in) See you in a bit.
Him: Yeah, see you.

(.... an hour or so later, as he is talking to someone as I leave)

Me: Bye, see you next week.
Him: Yeah, bye.

Of course there are a ton of things I think to say now! But nooooooooooooooooooooo! Did I say "Hey, haven't seen you in a while, thought you had changed shifts"?? Noooooooooo How about "Hey, how's it going? Where've you been?" Nope! "Hey, how's it going? You know, I don't know your name..."??? Uh uh...

Can I borrow someone's social skills, please? I seem to have bruised my forehead.

Condo dilemmas

So, I've decided to buy this condo. However, I'm still vascillating between 2 choices. My big dilemma is such: I can buy a small condo with a parking space that I can rent out monthly, or I can buy a bigger condo with no parking for pretty much the same price. I don't have a car. A parking space can, however, add to the resale value of the condo should I decide to leave one day, which I very well will do, especially if it's a smaller condo. My brother is trying to convince me that I shouldn't buy a condo without a parking space, as not many people would want a condo without a parking space and selling at a good price could be difficult. More space would, however, be nice. Hmmmmmm.......

Getting away with murrrrrrrderrrrrr

I was thinking today, as usual. It would be totally logical if all the murderers out there were disabled. Really, think about it. How many times in your own lives, have you gotten away with murder? Ok, well, not literal murder. But people with disabilities seem to have this reputation for being innocent and completely incapable of committing any wrong or mean acts. I mean, we're too busy being brave and courageous and absolutely inspirational, right? What a FANTASTIC cover!! It's absolutely brilliant. Can't you see it on A&E's Cold Case Files now? "Really, I can't believe it. She's been my neighbour for over 15 years and she's just lovely. What a trooper, going to work every day in that adapted transport, waiting patiently every day for her driver to bring her to work. Imagine that, she works too! I mean, who would have thought she'd have the time to work, wait for her transport AND commit these heinous crimes! Apparently she even volunteered too. You know, I think we should go easy on her. She's really such an inspiration. And, you know, if I had what she had on her plate, I'd probably snap too. God bless her. I'll miss her. She was a wonderful neighbour."

I had to pick up a parcel today. While waiting in line at the post office, I was thinking that no one at that post office had ever asked me for I.D. Ironically, today they did. But it's so rare, that the chance they'd notice you on that one particular day that you decide to commit murder would be so freakishly slim.

Now, by no means am I endorsing murder, and certainly not suggesting that all you disabled people out there get right on that. But, I'm just saying... you could probably get away with it. Not that that's a good thing. Really.

I did see one of those A&E shows, probably American Justice, where the killer actually was disabled. And, let me tell you, it was rather exciting! He was caught and went to jail, as he should have, but I really thought it was great to see a person in a wheelchair portrayed as something other than bloody wonderful. I hope that in some sick, twisted way that made sense. Now if the news would do a piece on beggars who use their disability to gain sympathy, and, in turn, money and what a crock that is, or even something more useful such as how inaccessible our damn cities are, or even a story about a disabled person that has NOTHING to do with disability, instead of wasting their time on stories about people with disabilities who are labelled inspirational because they do what non-disabled folk do every freakin' day, I'd be even happier.

Is it too much to ask...

to be able to see just one televised story or newscast about disability that doesn't use the word "special"?? Enough with all this "they're all so inspirational for living" crap already. Sigh.

And to be fair... daddy dearest

I just spent 15 days with my father in Italy. Italy being as inaccessible as it is, meant that those 15 days were pretty much 24/7 as well. My relationship with my father is not an easy one either. In many ways it is easier than with my mother, as I am more similar to my father in many respects. But what complicates the matter is that I am my father's favourite and he showers me with attention that he does not give my brother, and I cannot stand it. It was a VERY uncomfortable 2 weeks. Well, the first week was okay, but during the second week, I reached my limit. I am all torn with emotion. See, my father is very intense. Quietly intense. He's always asking me how I'm feeling and hugging me, etc. On the one hand, I commend him because he had a difficult childhood and showing his emotions is difficult. He and my mother divorced when I was 5 and my brother was 8. For the next 15 years or so, I was kind of my father's companion. I was unequivically the most important thing in my father's life. He didn't have any serious girlfriends for that time. I was shy and reserved and didn't have many friends, so my weekend was spent solely with my father. We went to dinner together, to movies.. everything was just us two. As a child it didn't bother me too much but there was this one evening that we both remember and our interpretations are both different, though my father does not know that. He was picking me up from my mother's on a Friday night and we were going out to dinner. He leaned over to give me a hug and a kiss and I backed off and said "not on the first date". I must have been about 9. Now, my father has never been inappropriate around me, so I don't mean to imply anything of that nature. However, I do feel that our closeness has always been a little inappropriate. Inappropriate in that it was too close and intense for a father/daughter relationship. It's not that he sees me as anything other than a daughter, but in many ways I felt like his companion. He relied on me, and I had no one but him because I had few, and sometimes no, friends. He tried to give me as much love as possible and probably extra attention as a result. But I feel it was just as much, if not more, his own need, than mine. He was lonely, not very self-assured, and had few friends. Although many people liked my father, he didn't let them get close, or he doubted their friendship, or didn't see that they liked him.

As I came into my teenage years, I started to resent this closeness a little. I resented that my Friday nights were at home playing Scrabble with my father rather than going out with my friends like most kids. So, I pushed him away. When I was about 15, my mom moved cities and I went to live with my father. For the most part, it worked out well, as I wasn't getting along with my mom then. I lived with him for the next 10 years or so. He finally got a girlfriend, but this didn't change our dynamic much. I was still very much the centre of his attention, and I still pulled away. Then my stepmother came along and all changed. All his attention got diverted to her. I resented her, didn't like her. It all had happened so quickly, there was little time to adjust. She was living in another country, so before they got married and she moved here, I had only met her once. My father and her moved away after 2 years of marriage. Ever since the marriage, the time spent with my father is very awkward. It often ends up in tears. There were more heated discussions and anger at the beginning, but now it's mostly him trying to be close, me pushing him away and big tears seconds before I leave. This is what happened in Italy.

Now don't get me wrong, I love my father. And ever since he's been married, I have been trying to spend time alone with him, because it happens very rarely. He came and stayed with me for a few days a couple of times when he came to visit and she came a couple days later as she was visiting her kids in the interim. Usually it was 3 days, and that was fine. But also, I was working or volunteering or going to school so we'd usually see each other in the mornings, and then for dinner. So, I had been pushing for 7 years for this trip for the 2 of us. It took that long for him to agree and commit to a time. We planned it over the last 7 months and I was excited about going and spending time alone with him. Then, a week into it I swear to god, I wanted him to die. Ok, not literally, but I wanted to run, escape, be far, far away. And the emotions around this were astounding. They still are. First of all the accessibility issue, as I mentioned... we were sharing a hotel room. So, really, it was 24/7. I am a person who really needs my space. Anyone, if around them too long, will annoy me. I just need to retreat and hide ... often. I coudln't do that here. And my iPod wasn't working properly so I couldn't even escape into that. I would get up in the morning, and cry in the shower so he wouldn't here. I would lie in the dark, crying carefully so as not to make a sound. In the last 3 or 4 days, I wanted to cry all the time.

Now, when my father knows there's something wrong, he gets all intense. The problem was, I needed space. So, the more I withdrew, the more he'd do things like keep eye contact. It drove me crazy. In fact, it made my skin crawl. So, the more he'd do that, the more I'd avoid him, and look to the left, to the right... anywhere, but at him. If he kept it up long enough, I'd finally say "WHAT?". And he'd say "you seem distant". I'd say "I feel like you're staring at me." He'd say "I am". It's his way of trying to get me to talk, to try and let me know he's there. Well, see, I know he's there, because I can't freaking get away! I have never been comfortable with his intenseness. I have never been comfortable with the fact that he seems to find it so easy to give me attention, and resists giving any to my brother. I have asked him numerous times why he doesn't go on a trip with my brother. His answer is that he doesn't think my brother would want to spend time with him. Since I've been back, I had lunch with my brother who told me that on his last 2 of 3 trips to Asia, he has asked my dad to come along, and my dad has decline. GRRRRRRRR!!!!! Why does he spend so much time trying to get close to me as I keep pushing him away, and not bother trying to get close to my brother when my brother invites him in, which isn't often, I admit????? I can't stand it!

Since I've been back, my dad has been trying desperately to reach me. And I don't want to talk to him. I am so angry. But, for the last 12 years or so, I'm always angry at my dad and I'm tired of it, but I can't let it go either. He called me the morning after I returned, but I was getting ready for work so didn't answer the phone. Then he called me on my birthday, and I didn't answer. Today he called me, but I was actually down doing laundry. It's only been 5 days since I've been back (I should mention that he's still in Europe.. he went to France to meet my stepmom who has relatives there). He sounded upset that he can't reach me and said he'd try again while they were still there. Yet, he hasn't tried to call my brother. Each time he calls he says what a good time he's had. Ok, I get it.. he doesn't have to reassure me 5 times already! Then, of course, I feel guilty for being angry. One friend said "so let him treat you like his favourite, why not?". But I can't. I know I can't change him, but I can't accept his behaviour and attention either. I'm tired of the struggle, tired of always being angry at him, but I don't know what else to do. I feel like a horrible child.

Light Bulb

Well, my recent trip has got me thinking. And I think I came up with a pretty good idea. Go to http://ca.geocities.com/mcsting@rogers.com to check it out.

Universal Bad Taste

Ok, this has nothing to do with disability, but I just had to say it (ok, well I'll work some disability in there too). ! I just got back tonight from my trip to Italy and they have just as little fashion sense as we do in Canada. If I have to see one more woman in low-cut jeans that shows butt crack when she sits down, I'm going to puke. People? That isn't sexy!! That is so far from sexy! Ugh.

Modern Canadian Water Torture

Remember that appointment that I had at the inaccessible office? Well, I finally had it and my doctor booked further tests to give me the complete work-up to start off his files on me. So today, I went off for an ultrasound (after checking to make sure the clinic I was going to was indeed accessible). He wanted all the internal organs checked, beginning with the bladder. Preparation? No food after I went to bed from the night before. 1 hour before the test, 32 ounces of water. Then an hour of probing on my bladder and stomache. Can you say torture? It was one of the more unbearable situations I have been through, and I've had a few nasty ones. It seemed the technician found every tender spot on my belly and pressed harder. Finally, I was allowed to get up and pee, but then had to come back as they wanted pictures of my bladder full and empty. Major relief, yes, but as you can imagine, with 32 ounces of water, it didn't take long before I needed to pee a 2nd time. And a 3rd on the way home. And... you get the picture. Oy. Ow. Oh. I can't wait for my next yearly check-up!

Rights vs. Reality

I saw a therapist once who told me I had a right to find love. This was so obvious to me it was a "well, duh" moment. But of course I didn't say that to her. But it made me examine my own attitude toward relationships. Yes, I have a right to love, as I have a right to access, to equal treatment, to be an astronaut. The reality is, just because you have a right to something doesn't mean you're going to get it. What good does it do me to know I have a right to be in a relationship with a man if no man I desire thinks of me in a romantic way? What am I supposed to do with that right?

I have asked two men out in my life, both times have been less than successful. They were both via email, so making it much easier to be let down. The first time, he was the one. The ONE. I was crushed, devastated (again, I think I mentioned this in a previous blog. Have I so little to say that I have to repeat myself so often? Oy!). After him, there was no one for years. In fact, even now, I don't allow myself to become interested in someone to that point anymore. He didn't mean to hurt me, but that rejection took my heart, pounded on it with a sledgehammer and crushed it into a million tiny pieces. I have still not recovered, and I don't know how to.

Some eight years later, here I am finding myself in a situation where I've asked out someone else (also mentioned in a previous post). My 2nd choice was very calculated. He doesn't make my head spin. He does not attract me. We don't have much in common. He is safe because of this. He cannot break my heart. In fact I'm sure I will tire of him before he tires of me as a friend. This is already beginning to happen. But he is someone, a body, and fulfills a need.

There is this guy behind the counter of the gym I go to. He works Saturdays. I say hello and we have a little conversation every time I go. But I don't know what else to do with it. I could not possibly ask him out, because he is not safe. I actually care and want something out of it. There's too much at stake. If I could ask someone out without them actually thinking I've asked them out, then maybe I could do it. But then that would be pointless, right?

When my therapist told me I have a right to love, my first thought was no one I am interested in could possibly be interested in me that way so what's the point? Self-fulfilling prophecy, perhaps? Maybe.

I've realized that the least painful way to deal with unrequited love is not to love in the first place. Not to hope, desire, dream, want. Turn right off. I don't want to be there anymore.

I hope you've all had better luck in you being your type's type.

The wheels on the bus...

Yes, more bus issues. Damn, I'm beginning to dread the bus. Today I get to the stop first and am waiting for the bus. Two colleagues come shortly after and we talk about our day. The bus comes and they get on the side door and I go in the front. The bus is crowded today, true, but there was space near me where they could have stood. They probably didn't see it, but they didn't look. So they stayed together for the trip and I read my book. Finally one of them gets off, and the other stays on past her usual stop. She makes her way over to me and asks me which stop she should get off to get to such and such a street. I was really pissed off. And I'm sure it showed. I felt really pissed off that she came to speak to me when the other woman was gone, but didn't bother to make her way until then. Especially since all 3 of us were waiting at the stop together. I know I shouldn't expect people to stay with me, but I just feel it's thoughtless not to. Especially if you're going to come up to me after to ask me a question. I really feel separated in situations like that. I feel saying something is pointless, but people don't understand how isolating it is sometimes to be disabled and have to do things differently than others. Of course my obsessive personality doesn't help situations like this :). Blah!

Mommy Dearest

I remember a few years back having a conversation with 2 disabled friends of mine. We ended up talking about our mothers and realized that we all had something in common. Our mothers were crazy. Overbearing, dominant, guilt-giving, unrealistic crazy. It started me wondering about how many other people with disabilities had crazy mothers. And of course the question that comes from that is.. which came first, the disabled child or the crazy mother? Now, in defense of our mothers, I must say that a) I am certain it's not easy bringing up a disabled child, b) everybody has a bit of craziness in them. Lord knows I do! But my 2 friends and I noticed that our mothers were very similar in this regard.

I think this would make a very interesting study. I love my mother, but I can't be around her for too long before she starts driving me crazy. Bang your head on a brick wall crazy. My mother feels that in order to make friends, I have to be extraordinary. She always said she had hoped I would be an artist because everyone would be in awe of that talent and just naturally want to be around me. That is wrong on just so many levels. First of all, that is naturally coming from her own biased viewpoint. She values art. I do draw. Sometimes quite well. I have a glimmer of talent which my procrastinating nature never really nurtured. But it doesn't matter to me. It's a hobby I dabble in sometimes. Whatever. When I chose social work, she wasn't happy with that. she felt life was hard enough for me, why would I want to listen to other people's problems. It's funny, I see her point to an extent, but it is still narrow-minded. I don't have the patience in my personal life to listen to people who only talk about problems or heck, even only talk about themselves. I used to be able to deal with that, not anymore. However in my professional life, I quite enjoy it. I can separate it because it is my role to listen to them. I am in control as I chose to do this. In your personal life, when you have friends who are too needy (and for a while those were the only type of friends I was attracting), it feels beyond your control. That doesn't mean that I don't want to listen to my friends talk about their problems. Of course I have patience for that, but to a point. I am there for my good friends as they are there for me. But I will also challenge them. If they are whining about the same crap, I will tell them that they are not doing anything to change their situation and I won't be as patient. If they are trying to change their situation and it's just not working, I'll be very compassionate. But, that was a tangent. Back to mothers...

What my mother really didn't and doesn't get is that all her talk about having a great talent to draw people to you affected me negatively. It made me afraid to be who I am, whoever that is, for fear it's not good enough for "normal" folk to like. I was always told to cover up my legs and feet because they are deformed so I'll "look pretty". Same with my weight. "You'd be so pretty if you were thinner". I had to hide as much of my disability as possible and overcompensate for it by doing extraordinary things. I wasn't allowed to be just a normal girl with a disability. I feel like I'm repeating myself as I think I talked about some of this in an early post. But, I am wondering how many of us have mothers who had trouble dealing with our disability. I'm sure most have trouble, but how many have mothers like I describe, who put the onus on us to do 90% of the work to draw others to us and make fulfilling relationships? If someone runs out of their way to open a door for me (which I hate) my mom replies with "I'd love to have someone do that for me, you should just accept it." I find that funny. I'm supposed to be as independent as I can, and possibly more, yet not complain when others help when they think I need it. Her response when I was in high school and had no friends was "keep busy, act like you're too busy to spend time with them."

Then there's the discussions about my brother that comes up a couple times a year. My parents have been divorced for 30 years. My mother still blames my father for not helping my brother more financially. My brother is 3 years older than me and lives with my mother. I take my father's side. He's not perfect by any means. And yes, he and my brother have issues. They are not close. They dont' fight, have no animosity toward each other, but they are not close. I've always been helped financially by my father. I lived with him from mid-teens to mid-twenties. I got more, it's true. But on the flip side, my brother has always been very irresponsible with money, whereas I haven't. My brother worked with my mother. Long story short, he doesn't anymore, but hasn't found a job for himself. He is living under her roof, spending her money. And she likes it. She needs that. She would never admit it though. It's a self-serving relationship, however if my mother were to die tomorrow, my brother would be lost. She doesn't think so. She thinks she's helped him get his self-esteem. I disagree. Whatever the situation, it is wrong to blame my father. My father was harsh with my brother, but he had to be. My brother had his deviant phase and needed to prove he could be trusted again. Anyways, there's lots more to it, but all this to say that when we talk about it my mother always said "the doctors told us when you were born that you'd be fine, that it was your brother we'd have to worry about, being the sibling of a disabled child. He will get less attention and it will be harder for him." I'm sure it was very hard for him at times. And I used to spend nights awake worrying about him and what I needed to do to fix it. I won't do that anymore. I won't go there with my mother. But I really resented her telling me that. I'm a 35 year old woman with major problems to my self-esteem. I have trouble connecting with people. I have few close friends, none male. All male friends I've had have not lasted long, with the exception of one. I have dated one person for a period so short he doesn't even qualify as a boyfriend. I'm insecure, have issues with my weight. Low self-confidence. I yearn for approval. Even with friends I do have, I am never secure they consider me as good a friend as I consider them. I don't say this to get a collective "awww" out of you. I say this to explain. When my mother told me the doctor said I'd be fine, I'm wondering what freaking planet she's on if she thinks that I'm so much better off than my brother. My brother still lives with my mom and has no job of his own, yes. But he has friends. And he is well liked. He hasn't had a lot of girlfriends, as far as we know (he doesn't talk about it... but it's been about 12 years since we've met one), but it's not for lack of interest from them.

Any of this sounding familiar to anyone?

Condo or go home... wait.. I am home!!

I've been living for the past 2 years in a basement apartment. It is not an "accessible" apartment, per se, but it suits my needs for the most part. Having said that, it is by no means perfect. For one thing, I live over the boiler room. Nice and toasty, you might say? Totally overrated, I say. I have had my air conditioner on throughout most of the winter. Otherwise, it would be 32 degrees (90ish for you Fahrenheit folk). When I moved here, I had to find a place to live rather quickly. There were no lists, no services that really were able to help me. I made a gazillion phone calls all with dead ends. I ended up pounding the pavement. Going up and down the streets of the area I wanted to live in and seeing apartments that were in buildings that had no steps. Long and labourious. And utterly frustrating, as 95% of the apartments had components that would not work. 95% of that 95% being problems with bathrooms being too small and bathroom doors being too narrow. So, I thought recently that maybe it's time to go condo. There are some newer condo buildings around. They have a better (cough, cough) chance of being accessible, but even if they are not, I would be able to do renovations as I pleased. So the hunt will start soon. We'll see what kind of concrete jungle it is.

And the winner is...

That list thing really helped. It made me realize what was really important to me. To the uninvolved reader, the lists may seem rather equal on both sides, but after looking at each item, one really stuck out. Stimulating. That was the single, most important factor for me. I think I'd get bored quicker at the smaller job. Permanency isn't everything and I was really focussed on 'can I really turn down a permanent job?'. Well, yes, of course I can. So, I believe (for the moment, at least), that I will go with the non-permanent job in the bigger place.

Add it all up.

Well, I've been thinking. A lot. Last week I started my 6 month (actually 5+) position at my original place of work. I'm really, really enjoying it. It's really made me aware of how much I enjoy this environment more than the other. I was talking to my brother about it last night and he suggested the old pros and cons list of working at either place. So, here goes:

Pros of taking the permanent job:

1. Well, duh.. it's permanent! Benefits! Vacation! Sick days!
2. The staff is great. I get along with them and feel part of the team (well, as much as I can in a group setting, where I'm never really very comfortable).
3. I feel wanted and appreciated. Last week was social work week and, even though I've only been there 2 months, Everyone signed a card for me. It was really nice!
4. I get a lot of support as a new staff member.
5. My boss is pretty lenient.
6. You are always free to apply to other jobs within the hospital.


Cons of taking the permanent job:

1. My foot would be out of the door of the other place.
2. The floor smells really bad sometimes.
3. It's a smaller place and less anonymous. (yes, I put that as a con :))
4. The organization has been in a lot of flux lately. They are in the middle of a downsizing and reorganization phase, which I've heard happens every few years. A lot of instability. Since I've been there, 2 of our 3 doctors have changed, our physio has changed, the social worker will (obviously) change. As well, the amount of time of each job has changed. The physio is reduced from 3 to 2 days. Social work from 1 1/2 positions to 1 full time position. Chances are though that it won't change again in the near future.
5. The cafeteria is awful.
6. The environment isn't as stimulating.
7. There are less opportunities if I ever want to change positions within the hospital.


Pros of staying at the other place:

1. It's bigger, more anonymous.
2. There are more opportunities for permanent jobs.
3. It's a more stimulating environment.
4. They have recently started a supervision program to give more support to newer staff.
5. The cafeteria is great.
6. They have more social work specific learning opportunities

Cons of staying at the other place:

1. The whole bus issue from a previous post... I can now take the bus, but I still feel awkward about it... it causes a lot of anxiety.
2. I'm not permanent yet.
3. My foot would be out of the door of the other place.
4. My boss is pretty tough.
5. Once you take a contract or a permanent position, you cannot apply for another position for the first 6 months of being in that position. Well, actually, technically you can apply, but they don't have to consider you and my boss has never considered anyone who has applied within the first 6 months of being in another position so chances are pretty much nil. This makes it harder to become permanent.


That's all I can think of for the moment. I might add pros and cons as I think of them. Let me mull over it for a bit.