Enjoying this time of year

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“It’s the mooost wonderful tiiime of the yeeeear…”

For some. For others, it’s the worst.

Personally, I absolutely love Christmas. Not for the presents – although that was one of the highlights of the holiday when I was younger – but for the warmth and happiness it brings me. The lights, the food, Christmas spice tea, the decorations… all of it brings me a lot of joy.

Christmas has always been my favorite holiday. Yet, during my teens and early twenties, the holidays got more and more difficult because of my mom. I think the last time I celebrated Christmas back home was in… 2012, I think. After that, I made sure to spend any holiday I could with my old boyfriend’s family. The year we broke up, my brother, uncle, my grandma and I spent Christmas Eve at my grandma’s, and we had a very lovely evening. The year after that, my grandma and I decided to take a bus tour to Germany (mainly for old people, but I think there were a couple of other people around my age, maybe a bit older). It was a nice trip, but not something I’d do again, at least not with a tour group.

Two years ago I met Nick, so now I have his wonderful family to spend the holidays with.

Being able to actually enjoy Christmas is so important to me, much more important than “family obligations.” I choose to be with people I care about, who treat me well and make me happy. I’m not gonna waste one more Christmas on someone (i.e. my mother) who only brings me down. Of course, choosing to cut my mother out of my life means that I can’t really spend Christmas with my dad or my sister. But my dad isn’t really such a big fan of the holiday, and my sister lives pretty far away, so it doesn’t really matter that much.

I know quite a few people who hates this time of year, mostly because it entails spending time with family – especially with peripheral family members you don’t know and don’t really care about, who always ask the same questions: “So, what do you do?” “Are you studying?” “Oh, you’re not working? What do you do, then?” And you’re just sitting there, like… “I’m just trying to figure out life.” And they just don’t seem to get it. “So, do you have a boyfriend?” “Are you getting married soon?” “Are you gonna have kids?” Or, “Oh, you’re single? Why? Don’t you want a boyfriend?” and blaaaa blablablabla. Damn exhausting.

Explaining peripheral family members that I have bipolar, that  I’m on sick leave, trying to figure out how many hours I can actually work, not knowing exactly what I want to do for work, or when I’ll actually get a paid job… ugh. Spare me.

This isn’t just during Christmas, of course. It’s the same with birthdays. Which is why I only invite the family I actually like when I celebrate my birthday.

Anyway. I was inspired to write this post because I arrived in Kolding this afternoon, for a nice little weekend get-away, and we had risengrød for dinner! (see picture above.) A classic Christmas rice porridge with cinnamon mixed with sugar on top, and of course a nice spoonfull of butter right in the middle. Mmmmh.

Also going to the annual Christmas market here in Kolding this weekend. I’m so excited!

Merry weekend to all, and to all a good night.

 

 

The system is the system is the system

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Today I met my new job consultant. I haven’t had one since June, and my internship ends in two months, but hey, better late than never, right?

Her job is basically to help me fulfill the goals set by myself and the job center (mainly by the job center). I was a little surprised, though, when she told me that their goal was to get me working 37 hours per week. That is not what my caseworker and I agreed on. We’d agreed to keep the goal at 25 hours per week, since it’s pretty clear I can’t work more than that.

I pointed out to my consultant that I generally have one sick-day every week, which means that I’m not actually working 20 hours, but 15 hours per week these days. From the 16th of December, I’m supposed to move up to 25 hours, as my caseworker and I agreed on. But if I continue to have one sick-day a week, I’d still only be working 20, not 25. My consultant then told me that I should count the sick-days as normal workdays, and not put that workload on another day instead. Which is what I’m already doing.

She told me that she would make a plan for slowly increasing my hours up to 30 by mid-January, as she also didn’t find it likely that I’d be able to have a full work week. And then we’ll just see how it goes, and meet again in the beginning of January.

Now, I haven’t heard from my “rehabilitation team” since January this year. They seemed very motivated to help me at the time, insisting that I should get further professionel treatment for my physical pains. I was “ordered” to go to a rheumatologist, get his/her professional opinion, and take it from there. If you’ve followed my blog for a while, you’ll know that the rheumatologist took one look and me and went, “Well, seems like chronic pains. You’ll probably have it for the rest of your life. All you can do is try to limit the pain, with regular exercise and pain killers.” At least he was kind enough as to not force me to take even more medication, as he felt I was taking enough already.

My doctor then referred me to a clinic for people suffering from different kinds of chronic pains. But they rejected me, said I didn’t fit their requirements for treatment. Oh, well.

After that, nothing. I’m just paying for my own physiotherapy, and my dad pays for my gym membership.

The thing is… Right now, it’s not my mental health that’s keeping me from working even part-time hours. It’s my physical state. And if nothing is done about it, I won’t be able to work more than 15 – max 20 hours per week. Simple fact.

So … will they do anything about it? Will they help me? Who knows. Who knows if I’ll ever again meet those people I met on that day in January, who sat there with their laptops and notebooks and made me feel like I was doing exams all over again. They sat there, like judges, trying to figure out what to do with me. “How do we get this young woman back on the job market with minimum effort and as cheap as possible?” Maybe I’m being too rough on them… maybe they’re just over-worked and don’t have the capacity to actually check up on their cases. Whooo knoooows.

I guess all I can do is try to work more hours, and call in sick when I’m in too much pain. And then I’ll talk to my caseworker in two weeks (over the phone, mind you), and see what she has to say. Maybe she had a chat with the rheumatologist who gave me that kinda “loose” diagnosis, maybe she’s convinced the pain clinic to take me in, or maybe she hasn’t done one single fucking thing. I’m betting on the last one. It’s a classic.

Sorry for sounding so pessimistic, but… the system is the system is the system. I do hope she’ll bring me some good news, but I gotta say – my caseworkers usually don’t have much news to bring altogether.

Anyway. Dua Lipa is coming to Copenhagen next year, so hey, at least there’s that, right?! Ticket sales open on the 6th. Wish me luck ya’ll! … you know, with both the pain stuff and the concert tickets. Thanks in advance! 😀