Embracing Boundaries: Finding Support and Peace

Ever hear the saying “Blood is thicker than water”? It’s often used by someone in an attempt to show that people who are related by blood should have a higher priority than others, and maybe should have ultimate access to your life. In reality, people who are related by blood are simply that, related by blood.

I’ve had to learn the hard way that people don’t care about me in the same way, or the same amount, as how I care about or love them. Because of a lot of trauma, I don’t want anyone to go through what I’ve had to go through and have to go through it alone, like I have for a lot of it. I tend to give all of myself to someone or to a situation, only to walk away drained and alone. I have no regrets when it comes to the help I’ve given anyone. I only wish I had learned to set boundaries earlier in life.

Boundaries are a life preserve. A boundary is like wearing gloves on an EMS call. Gloves protect me from my patient, but it also protects my patient from me. A boundary does the same. It protects me from giving too much of myself away, and protects someone else from putting too many expectations or dependence upon our relationship. To put a boundary into practice and then to stick to this boundary takes a lot of work, but can also be frustratingly painful to not give in.

Three years ago, I realized that my sister doesn’t actually care about me as much as I care about her. This happened after a second traumatic event occurred in my life, which I shouldn’t have survived. I began to set boundaries with my sister, which she completely ignored. The boundary quickly tightened up to no communication. But this too, she has ignored ever since. I’ve received anonymous gifts from Amazon, which I returned and then got something I wanted. I’ve received nasty, disrespectful text messages from not only her cell number, but also from spoof numbers, causing me to change my number. I’ve received a nasty message on PayPal with $1. I’ve received emails from multiple email accounts, which now have all been blocked, and the emails are deleted as soon as they arrive so that I never see them. One email will say that she wants to work on our relationship and attempt an apology, while the next email is disrespectful and very hateful after being reminded again of the boundaries. Once when I mentioned the possibility of obtaining a protection order, she threatened to have me committed, claiming to have plenty of evidence, which I found the whole threat to be hilarious. These are just some of the ways she’s attempted to contact me and ignore the boundary.

The biggest thing I’ve learned through all of this drama, because drama is exactly what it is, is that my peace is far more important than having a relationship with my sister. Because of her incident six years ago, I believe it’s made her behavior worse. She’s treated me like scum off the bottom of a pond (or a pool if you are in Shatterproof HA!) long before her incident happened. I personally believe her behavior has gotten worse because that is who she truly chooses to be at her core. She is nice to me IF she wants something from me. I’ve watched her treat her friends like gold (since her incident), but maybe too, it’s because she wants something from them. I hope and pray that one day she decides to become better.

While sticking to your boundaries can be complicated and difficult, seeking support and encouragement when life gets hard will help immensely. Life was never meant to do it alone, regardless of what we are facing. I like the analogy of a pencil. One pencil alone is really easy to break in half. But put that pencil beside a handful of pencils, and it will be more difficult to break. Same goes with life. I know everyone says “reach out”, so saying to “reach out” sounds very cliche. But reach out anyway. Keep reaching out until you find someone who will truly listen and support you in your journey. You are worth the effort!

Distractions

This past year has been full of hard stuff and change. It’s contained heartbreak, deep emotions, and gut wrenching changes. But it has also involved growth and rebuilding.

One year ago today, I was sexually assaulted. Did you know that 80% of sexual assaults are never reported. Although I reported it and confronted him, nothing seemingly has been done. In the process of reporting it, I did learn that I wasn’t his only victim to make a report. But his other victim was a minor. And still, he lives as a free man, at least to human eyes. He knows what he is guilty of, but more importantly, God does too. I would rather face man’s consequences than to face God’s.

I’ve lost a lot of friends, and recently discovered that many have unfriended me on social media. I’m ok with that because it is none of my business what someone decides to thinks of me. If those people have made the decision (I don’t know if they have or not) to return to the phedopile’s church, that is their choice. They know the truth, but choose for themselves what to believe. I’ve also gained more friends than I have lost, and a few of these have become a part of my inner circle.

I’ve been able to take time off work in order to focus on me. During this time away, I’ve done neuro stimulation and Ketamine treatments, which have drastically improved my life. (Maybe I’ll write a blog post about it and be more specific about my experience. TBD) I plan to continue to do Ketamine treatments periodically. I’m learning to make self care a high priority and that it’s ok to say “no”. I no longer need to stretch myself thin or have the approval of others to consider myself successful.

There have been many distractions while I’ve worked to grow and move forward. Things have happened to try to get me to backtrack or change directions. I’ve lost people who I thought were close friends, yet I’ve gained friends who have become my family. I’ve had drama happen with my animals, which in the past would have halted my progress. I’ve also been able to begin taking steps to build a peer support group for first responders. This is slow going, but in other ways, it has happened more quickly than I dreamed possible. I’m supported, both at work and at home, and encouraged to follow my heart’s desires.

Regardless of what you are facing, keep going. Do your best. Don’t allow distractions from other people to keep you from achieving your goals.

Broken Trust

As a paramedic, the community puts a lot of trust in me. When they call 911, I show up at their house. We are both complete strangers to each other. I ask a lot of personal questions in order to document, but more importantly, to take care of them and whatever is going on for them. Then they ride with me to the hospital….something that under normal circumstances (getting into a vehicle with a stranger) should never happen. So, I take the trust I’m given very seriously. I also take seriously the trust I put into other people, not only on the job, but at home too.

I’ve spent the last year deleting people from my life, some of which I’ve written about here, some I haven’t. Before June, I believed that everyone left in my circle were only people I could trust. But June 16, 2023 changed all of that. I had been going to this particular church for a period of time and had become good friends with the pastor and his wife….let’s call them William and Felicia.

I had dog sat for William and Felicia numerous times before, so when William asked me to dog sit on Friday, June 16, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. But that day would be life changing. Long story short, and I may write more about it in later blog entries, William sexually assaulted me. I left there feeling shattered. My trust was shattered.

I didn’t say anything about it for the next week, but then I told a friend I’ve known since college. She told me I needed to go to the police. I knew that, but that thought also terrified me. As a medic, I’ve seen how rape victims are often treated like a criminal, which makes the whole experience even more traumatic. But I also knew deep within that by reporting William and his actions towards me, I would be proving to myself that I was a different woman than I was during previous traumatic events. No longer was I the quiet doormat who would let anybody, including abusers, walk all over me. No. I was stronger, braver, and more vocal than ever before. So, I did just that!

Going to the police was terrifying, not because of anything the police did or said, but because I had to talk and tell my story. But by talking to the police, I learned I wasn’t William’s first victim. I also confronted William and warned others. Some believed me, others didn’t. And that is totally ok. What I told them came as a shock. I was still in shock myself. What had happened hurt me deeply, so deeply that I don’t know that I will ever again totally trust a pastor and his wife. Why do I hold Felicia partially responsible for William’s actions? Because now that I see the red flags that were flying prior to June 16th, she knew exactly what William was doing, what his intentions had been, as well as him having other victims.

It’s been two months. I’m still healing. I don’t talk about it much because I feel like people don’t want to hear about it. I talk about it with my therapist and a select few others. I haven’t gone to an actual church service, because that involves a pastor. I’m having a difficult time trusting people and feeling safe. I’ve been told that the reason I’ve been working so much overtime is because I’ve made work my safe place. I’ve also been isolating. Isolation feels safe, although it can be lonely. I’m hard on myself, maybe more than I should be. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

My Biker Gang

I had wanted to learn to ride a motorcycle for a long time, but any time I mentioned it, someone either talked about how dangerous it can be or I was told I was too stupid to learn. 6 years ago I again mentioned learning to ride to a friend. But this time, I was actually encouraged to learn. I bought a bike and learned to ride.

Then came the part I hadn’t thought of…. I joined a bike club. Some friends refer to this as “my biker gang”. But this biker gang has become my family. They’ve been there for me through a lot. Two major accidents. Breakdowns on the side of the road. Coming to my rescue and trailering my bike home when my anxiety kept me from reaching my destination. We’ve laughed. We’ve cried. And everything in between. I know I can depend upon them. They truly do have my back. I wouldn’t trade them for the moon.

If you are a veteran/military or a first responder, and are interested in joining, look up Thin Line Legion on Facebook or message me. We also have a supporter division for those who want to be in the group but don’t ride a motorcycle.

I’m Still Human

After a particularly difficult call, in the times I’ve told someone outside of the first responder community that I was struggling with it, I’ve been told in many different ways that if I couldn’t handle it, I should find a different career. Somebody even suggested I talk to a career coach to find something I love doing and would be good at. But wait a minute! Why would I talk to a career coach to help me find something that I love to do and would be good at, when I’m already doing what I love AND I’m good at it?

Being a paramedic is pretty much the hardest thing I’ve ever done. The schooling alone is difficult, to the point that many don’t make it through. Then going into places that a lot of people can’t stomach the sights or smells or sounds just in order to help a complete stranger. Dealing with vomit, blood, poop, and who knows what other fluids. The diseases a first responder is exposed to would make a “normal person” cringe.

Why would someone do this? Why do I do this? I do this because I don’t want someone to feel so alone in the midst of whatever battle they are facing in the same way I’ve had to do and be. I do this because most of my life, I never had anyone fighting for me. I never had anyone who truly had my back. I want those I come into contact with to know that they aren’t alone and that someone does truly care.

I had a particularly difficult call recently involving 3 children. Work did a debriefing but it felt more like they were checking a box than doing it because they actually gave a shit. People were in the debriefing that shouldn’t have been, which made people uncomfortable to talk about feelings. The whole experience added to my anger involving the call. I tried talking to a couple of coworkers that I trust, but when I got responses such as “keep your head up girl” or “I believe in you”, it made me feel as if I wasn’t allowed to be human and feel my feelings and emotions. So I haven’t talked about it.

Yesterday, my motorcycle group met to hang out and have our monthly meeting. When I was going to leave, one of the guys asked if I was ok. I was thankful and a little surprised that someone noticed. I told him “no, I wasn’t ok”. He had me put my stuff down and sit in a chair until everyone else had left. Then we talked. The biggest thing he said was that I can’t change what happened in that call, but I can change things on my next call. I know I did everything I could for the child I transported. And he’s right, I can’t change the outcome. But I can make a difference on the next call, on my next shift.
Honestly, it was a relief that someone noticed I was struggling, took the time to listen, and allowed me to be human.

Fear, Forgiveness, and Family

There is a song called “Fear Is a Liar” by Zach Williams that talks about all the lies the devil will throw at us in order to keep us from reaching our full potential, in one way or another. This song has meant a lot to me in the last several months and has prompted this blog entry, in a way. So here we go….

A little over a month ago, I drove to southern Ohio for a 3 day retreat put on by SAW(Save A Warrior). It’s for veterans and first responders. It’s free for those attending because of their generous donors. Check out their website saveawarrior.org if you are a veteran or a first responder. If you have questions and want to talk to somebody, I’ll be glad to answer any questions. They also have a lengthy, very involved follow up program. You aren’t just kicked out the door and told “Good luck!”.

Before I left for this retreat (Cohort 0194), I had to have 2 emergency contacts. They were the only two who knew the total truth of what I was doing. IF I had told somebody else anything, I told them I was going to Ohio to visit a friend. It was the truth, just not the whole truth. I really did meet a friend, 9 friends actually. I just had to meet them first.

The 3 days were intense and emotionally/mentally exhausting. In order to help us focus and get more out of the process, we were required to turn off our cell phones for the entire time. When I turned my phone on Wednesday afternoon, I had over 40 messages either on Facebook or text message. At first, I was in disbelief because never in all my life had that many people noticed or even cared that I was out of town or not available. But then, as I began to get more information, I realized that people had literally thought I had gone missing.

This still baffles my mind. I had told who needed to know what they had needed to know. And that should have been enough. But a fiasco was created out of a non existing mountain and drama, chaos, and fear were the result.

Two people, let’s call them Sara and Katie, contacted multiple people on my Facebook and told them either that I was suicidal or that I had offed myself. At one point, they changed their story saying I had ridden my motorcycle to Ohio and was lying in a ditch somewhere. IF they had truly been concerned, asking “Hey, has anybody seen Pickles?” is one thing, but contacting people and telling them lies is another, and a HUGE issue. But their behavior created panic.

My two emergency contacts repeatedly told people on my Facebook page that I was ok and that this was a planned trip. Yet, their comments were deleted and ignored. Another friend we will call Beth is local to me and also added a lot to the fiasco. She had two other women drive to my house “to see if I was home”, yet fully knowing I wouldn’t be, because I had told Beth “I’m going to Ohio to visit a friend”. My motorcycle group was on the verge of filing a missing persons report. Someone was talking about breaking into my house to “take my cats” and look for my vin # in order to contact Onstar to determine my location. But I don’t even have Onstar.

Then, when I got home, I had multiple people mad at me for being mad at them for creating a situation that should have never happened. I went away to do some self care, which was absolutely nobody’s business. Most people ignored the truth staring them in the face because they live for drama. They went so far as to contact retreat places in Ohio until someone told them I was there. This also should have never happened and has been taken care of. What was my own personal business was literally announced to the world on my Facebook page.

What I’ve learned from this is that I’m too predictable and the people who are upset at me don’t truly love me. Instead, they love controlling me. I was told at the retreat that 90% of the people in my life would fall away because my growth wasn’t part of their plan for me. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think it would happen immediately or this drastically. This has made my world feel very unnerving and unsafe. I’m a private person, yet mental health is very important to me. And this fiasco sure didn’t help.

Everyone who posted on my Facebook page and chose to ignore the comments saying I was ok are toxic. Plain and simple. If I had posted on my Facebook “Going off grid”, people would have panicked too. I had a conversation with Beth, but I learned very quickly that it didn’t matter what I said to her. I was wrong and she was right. I know that I did nothing wrong. And next time I go out of town, I won’t tell anybody….especially Beth.

This situation reminds me of Joshua and Caleb in the Bible when the 12 spies went into another country to check it out and consider going to war. When the 12 spies came back, 10 of the spies said it would be too difficult to go fight and win. But Joshua and Caleb were all for going to fight. The people of their country listened to the 10 negative spies, instead of the 2 positive ones. Just like this fiasco, people listened to the people spreading lies and creating drama and chaos, instead of the 2 people telling the truth.

The few people who know me the best know that I wouldn’t just run off and disappear. They also know that I’m in more danger when I’m at work and responding to calls than I am driving to Ohio alone. Since the fiasco, I’ve had to make some tough decisions to cut people out of my life because of their choices and behavior. Some will still be in my life, but in a totally different way.

I know this is a long post, but there is a lot to it. I’ve learned that not everyone has my best interest in mind, and that not everyone deserves to be called “family”. Love means you love a person where they are at, even if they have 50 ft steel walls built around them. You love them as they are, not for who you think they should be. I’m still working on the forgiveness aspect, to be honest. What happened really cut deep and hurt. But I will come out of this stronger.

I’ll close with this. A friend suggested I come up with a mission statement. So, my mission statement is this: “Be a badass with a good heart, soft but strong.” And this fiasco just pushes me further in the direction of being a badass.

The Bitch Who Changed My Life

I started working for Durham County EMS in North Carolina in 2008. I had just moved to NC from Michigan, thinking I was going to marry the man I had met on a particular dating site while I was still in MI. But, 4 months after moving to NC, I broke up with him. There is only so much you can learn about somebody while living 800 miles apart. And I did break up with him just before his birthday, that way, I wouldn’t have to buy him a gift and fake being a fan.

Breaking up with him though, left me knowing absolutely nobody outside of work. I was struggling in more ways than one, and my preceptor at work noticed. My preceptor and I had a love/hate relationship. She was intimidating and I was quiet and timid. She took advantage of that and would scream at me in front of our patient, then would scream at me more when we arrived back at the station. Her name was Corolla, but in my head I called her Cruella, like Cruella Diville. It was mean, but it was my coping mechanism. Having to work with her got to the point where I turned in my resignation letter. But my employer asked me to reconsider and said they’d put me with a different preceptor. They did this, but eventually I was back with the first.

One of the two best things this thorn in my side did for me was teach me how to write a strong narrative. The other was to give me the phone number for this chaplain she said could help me deal with my current circumstances. And, the last shift we worked together with her as my preceptor, she did tell me that I did a good job. It left me speechless!

At this point in my life, I wasn’t fond of anything religious. That is a topic for another blog one day. There were other chaplains in this county who would stuff religion down your throat when you went to them to talk about a bad call, and since I was a female, one of the chaplains in this other group would pass me off to his wife, who wasn’t in any way a first responder. I didn’t want religion. But I wanted answers. I wanted to know that what I was feeling was normal. I wanted to know that I wasn’t alone. And these other chaplains just didn’t do that for me. So when she suggested talking to this particular chaplain, I was incredibly hesitant. But I called the number. I made an appointment to meet this man to talk about my current personal struggles. Little did I know that that first appointment would be the start of a long lasting friendship and point of support.

At one point while working for this same county, I had responded to 4 dead baby calls within a short amount of time. I was on the verge of walking away from all things EMS because of it, when I again found myself talking to this chaplain. I should mention, this chaplain was also a firefighter and a paramedic. So he very much knew what first responders deal with day after day, shift after shift. If it hadn’t been for this man, and ultimately the preceptor I hated, I would have walked away from the career I love.

Mark has helped and encouraged me over the years, through many trials and dark times. Now, I send an email to him maybe twice a year, sometimes more if I need to get something off my chest. I hope I’m not ever bugging him, but he has always been there for me. And usually, when he responds to my email, he also sends a link for a song. And the song ALWAYS totally fits!

If your interested in listening, here is a link for the song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=83lLHqxi1-8

Just remember that wherever you are at in your life, no matter what you are facing or struggling with, there is ALWAYS hope. So, keep fighting and pushing forward. And if nobody has told you today, I’m proud of you!

Dopeheads and Prostitues

Recently, someone left a negative post on an EMS facebook page about “those dopeheads”. I left a comment reminding this person that often times, having just one person who believes in you can help an individual change his/her life around. And, that one person, may be you, the paramedic. But your patient won’t experience that hope with you having a horrible opinion of them and their current life choices. That post was also eventually taken down.

This got me thinking more though, because this particular facebook post really rubbed me the wrong way. As EMS and other first responders, we come across people who are in their worst moments of life….sometimes by their own poor choices, but often times not so much. It truly shouldn’t matter where that person, your patient, is at in his/her life. They should be given the same respect and level of care that you would want someone you love and care about to receive. And, if medical personnel cannot provide that care, then they should choose a different field…preferably one not working with people.

But it isn’t just EMS that fall guilty. I’ve seen disrespect and very poor care given to those I transport to the ER that have overdosed, or attempted suicide, or are asking for help mentally. But the mentality towards psychological disorders and simply asking for help for those disorders is a topic for a whole other blog post. As a medical field in general, we’ve thrown people to the trash pile that don’t deserve to be. I am no better than the next person just because I haven’t done (insert your choice of whatever poor behavior or decision you’d like). The same is true for you. We are all one step away from being in the exact same place as that “dopehead” on your stretcher in front of you. Compassion and respect go a long way when dealing with your patients, or the public in general.

The next time you respond to an overdose, or a homeless person, or someone you see as “less than”, stop and ask yourself ‘is this how I’d want someone I love and care about to be treated?”

I’m an ex-convict.

I have aids.

I’m a prostitute.

I’m poor.

I’m gay.

I aborted my baby.

I’m a teen mom.

I’m an alcoholic.

I’m a beggar.

I’m a drug user.

I have cancer.

I have a contagious disease.

But the paramedic said, “I will take care of you!”

The Last Time

For three months, I’ve taken care of a lady with Alzheimer’s who was also on hospice. Joanie had a dog named Sampson. Wherever Joanie was at, Sampson was there too. He was stuck to her like velcro.

December 27, 2021 was my last day to care for her, but I didn’t know it would be that way at the time. Joanie needed complete care….giving her a bath, dressing her, changing her diaper, moving her to her wheelchair, feeding her….everything needed to be done for her. On the bad days, I’d have to remind Joanie to chew and swallow her food. She usually didn’t talk, but some days she would try. But everyday, she had a smile.

Sampson was always happy to see me. Sometimes he would greet me at the door when I arrived. Other days, I’d find him in bed with Joanie. But he always had good morning kisses and demanded rubs and luvs. When I’d let Sampson back inside, I’d always kneel down and give him a back rub. Sometimes I’d throw a toy for him to fetch. But his mama and knowing where she was, was always his top priority.

Once Joanie was dressed and fed, she would sit in her recliner and watch Golden Girls all day. They were hilarious! I’ll never watch the Golden Girls again without thinking of Joanie.

My time with Joanie was short, but she will always have a special place in my heart. She was a beautiful, sweet lady. But here’s the thing, I didn’t know that December 27 would be the last day I would see her. She was going to hospice for a week so her husband could go visit his other daughter out of town. Joanie came down with aspiration pneumonia and never came back home. But in my mind, she should have.

I wish I could see Joanie one more time. I wish I could spend one more day with her. If I had known my last day with her would be the time I saw her, there isn’t anything that I would change. I’d still take care of her and love every minute of it.

Think about it….we never know when the last time we see someone will be the last time we see and talk to them. We should spend each moment as if it may be our last. But that also means treating each encounter with a person as if it could be the last time we see them, the last time we get to spend time with them, the last time we get to hug them. Nobody knows when they will die.

If you knew the last time would be the last time, what would you do differently? Hug those you care about tight because you never know when that hug will be the last one you gave them.

It’s Ok To Not Be Strong

Recently, I responded to a rape call at work. It wasn’t my first by any means. But for whatever reason, this one made my eyeballs leak while returning to base from the hospital.
It was the first time in 22 years of EMS that I hadn’t been able to keep my emotions in check until I had headed home.

My partner that day has been in EMS since Noah built the ark. He noticed I was struggling and asked if I was ok. Of course, I said I was.

We ran another call before making it back to the base. When we cleared from the hospital, our supervisor advised dispatch to take Medic 11 and 12 out of service. When I asked my partner about it, he acted as if he didn’t know why. Arriving back at base finally, I was going to restock the ambulance from our three calls we had run that morning, but my partner said I should follow him to the supervisor’s office.

It was me, my partner, the supervisor and the medic from the other truck. Our supervisor and the medic from the other truck were both trained in CISD. So am I. LOL!

My partner said that he had asked for this get together because he had noticed I was struggling after the rape/assault call we had ran that morning. They all wanted to make sure I was ok. I was dumbfounded really. Never have I worked for an agency that had cared enough to notice and then take me out of service to deal with a call. I’ve always had to “run the next call” and then deal with the bad call on a day off. This was new territory.

The other issue I was mulling over in my head was how was I supposed to talk about rape with 3 males present? Now, these 3 guys have been in EMS or fire for a lot longer than me. All three I know would have my back when I needed it, and I guess I was needing it. So, I took a deep breath and shared a tiny snippet of my past.

Two days prior to responding to this assault/rape call, I had told my therapist about a rape that I hadn’t told a soul about. That scar had been opened and was raw. Then this happened. They got it. They were willing to stay out of service as long as I needed to be and talk. They said they wouldn’t tell anyone the reason behind being out of service, and knowing that, made me feel safe.

These guys have checked on me and have listened since then. They’ve helped me to keep moving forward. I owe them because I wasn’t alone in that dark place.

It’s ok to be strong, but even the strong have moments of weakness. We just have to be willing to be vulnerable and accept help when it’s offered.