I had a good day. My shrink left me a message stating he sent me a 90-day refill of Prozac. Yay! I talked to my former section leader from my first permanent duty station in the Army. She’s the first female leader I ever met. My part of the conversation entailed explaining my decision to quit the VA. The rest was her giving a brilliant lecture on common sense, followed by a few compliments to my intellect, chased further by utter disbelief in how one can be so smart and (ignorant) at the same time.
It made me sweat a little while Skyping. I could easily stand before 45 and elaborately flip him the bird with a goofy grin on my face. I couldn’t stand in front of my former SFC (Sergeant First Class) and do anything I knew was wrong, rude, or improper in any way. I understand it, but not fully. It’s based on respect, but it’s a particular type. It’s bestowed with confidence, a bit of awe, and incredible loyalty. Suffice to say, I’m not quitting the VA. Instead, I’m going to make it safer for me to get care. I purchased a handheld voice recorder. I’ll bring it with me and use it when necessary.
I’m fairly sure once it’s seen the grapevine will spread the word, and I won’t need it any longer. The vast majority of people who work there are not racists. I only know of one and suspect another. It pisses me off how just a few ignorant fucks can cause me so much grief. My SFC reminded me of the POC wearing the uniform right now. I don’t want any of them to have to put up with this shit when they return, especially if I can do something about it. So I will. I’m quite pleased about the refill. I’d love to have my creativity restored, but avoiding severe episodes of depression is better. No contest.
Glad you had someone who could support you. She sounds pretty great!
Thanks!