All over America the economy sucks and in small town, USA, it sucks the most. I'm so glad I'm retired because lately I've seen that this new batch of hiring managers do not know how to hire. Some say: "Well companies are looking for purple unicorns." From what I've seen I really have no idea what in hell they are looking for. I doubt they even know. Most of them could not hire their way out of a paper bag, and yet, here we are, those dummies are the managers. That's scary.
I've lived in small towns, mostly, all of my life. I think small towns, for the mot part, are safer than big cities. But I've also known that when small town folk try to befriend you, it's because they just want to be up in your business. I also know, for the most part, in order to get a good job in a small town it boils down to: "Who you know and who you blow." Sad, but true.
In a small town, if you have any kind of education beyond high school, when you go to an interview, you are immediately viewed as suspicious, by the hiring person. They look at you as if you want their job, and from what I've observed, that would probably only be an improvement anyway.
Examples of small town interviews: You have a degree, and because the jobs in small towns are limited, you apply for a job at the local convenience store. They call you in for the interview and it goes like this: (Hiring person) "So you want to work here?" (Job seeker) "Yes, I would like to." (Hiring person) "You have a degree, why do you want to work here?" (Job seeker) "What do you mean?" (Hiring person) "Well you are educated, you are over qualified." {Truth is: There is NO such thing as 'over qualified' either you can do the damned job or you can't. {Truth is, if I am educated I can do that damned job.} (Job seeker) "Well jobs are rather limited here and I applied." {What the job seeker (Me anyway) would really like to say: "I want to work here because I have to pay for those frivolous things like food, clothing and shelter. Oh, by the way, are you telling me that you and the rest of the staff are stupid?" Hell they sure are implying it.
Truth is this: None of those jobs are exactly rocket science and America has simply become sellers for cheap, Chinese goods, created in a sweat shop by slaves. So stop acting like I've lived my entire life just waiting to be talked down to at this damned interview.
Yeah, I have a degree which means I know that 2+2 still equals 4. Got it? I realize (From an entire life of observation) small town folk have to spell their last names correctly to be accepted. Most of the jobs in a small town, I could bring in Joe Blow off the street and he could do your job just fine and dandy. In reality ( where few people seem to live anymore) hiring managers just do not want anyone who might make them look incompetent. Not realizing all the while, as soon as they opened their mouth, spewing dumb questions, they already oozed incompetence. Hell, a prime example of America's failed high school education system is this: One day the cash register failed to work right in a Walmart (Meaning it did not give the answers on a silver platter to the cashier as to how much change I got back.) So the cashier whipped out a hand held calculator and it took that clerk almost 45 minutes to figure out I got back a whopping 70 cents. Oh my!
Another good example is: Small towns sometimes have a college, you get a degree from said college, a job opens up at said college, you apply, only to find out they don't even like their own degrees enough to call you in for an interview. Also said small town college, you leave the area to get a job within your degree to find out no one has even heard of you, outside small town. The potential employer, in a bigger area, has to Google your name to see if you are even a real college. (This is from personal experience.)
Also example: You apply, after moving back to small town, for a Social Work job at one of the local nursing homes. You get called in for an interview and then they find out you were once a nurse aid at that same place, a few years before. They have realized you got married, changed your name, so you scored the interview. But (Here's the kicker) you once were a nurse aid so you still must be stupid in their book. When you go to the interview,and they had forgotten who you were, you get treated ( for the first time ever, with respect) when you were a nurse aid you were not treated with respect, although nurse aids are needed more than Social Workers, in my book. Also I've written a book about how awful traditional nursing homes really are. One person at the interview actually said: "I suppose you'll write about us?" Why would I when you already fit the category of 'traditional nursing homes suck'?
So while small towns might be safer, I'm retired now and could care less about a job in one, they also have major flaws. Most flaws are, they are too conservative, too tight knit and too provincial for their own good. It's why they fail to ever progress. While this is my opinion, it is based on personal experience living in Small Town USA.
Paranoia: baseless or excessive suspicion of the motives of others.
We all fear something in our lives, but with PTSD the fears are usually excessive and often baseless. Imagine going through your entire life never trusting a living soul, not even members of your own family. This is the world those who suffer from PTSD live in. I could have easily said: "Welcome to my world" whenever someone would ask me: "So, what's wrong with Ron?"
As a young woman, Ron often was jealous and always suspicious of me. If I was later coming home from the grocery store than he thought, often due to weather or long lines, he was jealous. He was certain I had met up with some other guy and he often flew into a rage if I disputed his accusations. When dating, mild jealousy seemed flattering to me. But after marriage, it was anything but and it grew worse as time wore on.
Once we divorced and I remarried, left to his own devices, Ron didn't fair well on his own. Being alone left him with too much time on his hands, too much time to think and to imagine all sorts of things that were not true. He got married, for about one minute, to a woman who was apparently not good for him. From what people told me, she had her mental issues too and was looking for someone she thought had money to support her and to possibly inherit if Ron should meet his demise. The demise part is the operative word, in her case. While married, Ron allegedly tried to shoot himself. He missed and shot himself in the neck leaving an almost mortal wound. He had texted the Yates County sheriff's department, telling them to come find his body. Once he was wounded, it seems the new wife did not bother to call 911 on her own. All the people I talked to have expressed the opinion that maybe, just maybe, Ron did not shoot himself, but had help. When someone has PTSD, it is very easy to work on their mind and to place all kinds of notions in their head. They are quite vulnerable to suggestions, good or bad. Small town Penn Yan is full of opportunists of both genders, so it didn't take long for them to crawl out of the woodwork. The oddest thing was the woman he married just so happened to have been married to another man who committed suicide by shooting himself. Odd, isn't it?
Ron ended up in the hospital in a live or die situation and his children took the reins and made sure that bad union was dissolved by way of an annulment. She allegedly had tried to remove money from Ron's banking account, but unsuccessfully. All this took place after he had received his big retroactive settlement of money for his service related disability.
Our oldest son and his wife moved in when Ron recovered and went home, so they could care for him. That worked out pretty well, for a while. But, the paranoia took hold once again, partly due to his PTSD and exacerbated by his now permanent, injury from the shooting. He finally accused our son of all sorts of unfounded wrongs and told them to leave his house. They did. After that, Ron went through a series of VA visiting nurses, they lasted for a while and he would always fire them due to his trust issues. He ended up distancing himself from all of his family of origin as well as his children, certain, in his head, they all were not to be trusted.
This is where the elder abuse started and where a private caregiver and her sister-in-law worked their way into Ron's life and home under the guise they could be trusted caregivers. That fact could not be further from the truth. So, for some reason, Ron hired the caregiver and stopped trusting the VA nurses who were trained in caring for him. but remember, it is very easy to work on the mind of a person suffering from PTSD and apparently that is exactly what the private home care worker did.
Two years before Ron supposedly committed suicide and succeeded, this private worker started working there. Well, once Ron was dead, his children found out that this private worker must have planned to steal his house and everything in it from the minute she walked in his door. We know this because the date on his new will was about the time she started working there. she wasted no time in enlisting a crooked law firm in Penn Yan to have Ron make out a new will, Ron was in bad physical shape, so she conveniently had those crooked lawyers come to his home to make out a new will. It is no coincidence that the worker and her crooked sister-in-law made themselves sole benefactors of everything Ron owned. Lock, stock and barrel. She had, in two years, successfully convinced Ron his entire family was not to be trusted. So divide and conquer was her M.O.
Last summer, Ron supposedly was able to purchase, over the Internet, a black powder pistol and shoot himself in the head. Seriously? His sisters and mother told us that Ron had the use of only one hand, walked with a cane and his other had suffered such spasms that he could not hold anything. Now this guy, in this condition, supposedly was able to load a black powder pistol, with a ramrod, hold it to his head and shoot himself? We all find that hard to believe. But conveniently, the worker had a bout of amnesia, because she could not recall the children's names or phone numbers to call his family until three days after his death. By the time the kids found out, she had also conveniently sent his body to be cremated, thus vanquishing all and any evidence of how he really was able to commit suicide. Now of course, the State Police and Yates County Sheriff did not call for an autopsy, all botched any and all investigations and all of this sounds mighty fishy to all of his family.
Our oldest son had to hire a lawyer to obtain personal, family items. He could not get any contents of the house because the worker and her sister-in-law had wiped out everything from the home. This is a case of elder abuse, if not assisted suicide, which, my friends is as illegal as murdering a person. Why was there no investigation? Why was there no autopsy done? Why was it three whole days Before his children were notified of his death? Ron also had our son install surveillance cameras and video. ALL of which mysteriously disappeared. Strange? To say the least.
Upon our own investigation, we have since discovered that this worker had also obtained another house and property from yet another unsuspecting elderly client. Our son also found out from his lawyer, those crooked lawyers in Penn Yan who Claimed Ron was of 'sound mind and body' when crippled and suffering for YEARS from mental illness, had been named in another dispute of aiding someone else with stealing from another family.
All of this is going into my latest book and my family have not concluded our own investigation into this suicide that smells like a rat in the wood pile. Time will tell and hopefully we can pick up the ball the authorities seemed to have dropped.
The conclusion of this blog is this: If anyone you know suffers from PTSD, Never, Ever allow them to push you away. Always stay in close touch because as they grow older, elder abuse is SO EASY for those private home health crooks to swoop in, place notions into the sufferer's head and Steal Everything they can get. Stay focused and Stay alert. But believe me, my children are Not finished with this investigation.
Having been told for years that PTSD did not exist, you tend to think maybe you have the problem. But when you see your kids being terrorized, as well as yourself, in a marriage, from Hell, you know it's bull shit they are telling you.
Over the years, the systems that were in place, offered no help at all for what we went through. A Vietnam Vet, slash, counselor, even drove to our house from the VA. He had the gall to tell us that PTSD did not exist and that my ex never saw any fighting in the region he was fighting in. I wondered what that guy had been smoking, but then, he got paid to parrot the bull shit lies. My ex's employer simply thought he was nuts and tried to humor him over the years. But, finally after 26 years working there, the sons took over the business and first order of business was to fire Ron. Can't say as I blamed them. So we set out to help him get disability. He had to go to hours and hours of counseling, like they hoped it would cure him or something. There is no cure, to my knowledge. I helped him when I was divorced and single, but finally I decided to have a life.
It was not my mission to babysit my ex and give up having any happiness myself. I met and married, my present husband, who, surprisingly enough, is also a Vietnam Vet. But we have been married for 16 years now and I've learned that all Vietnam Vets are not nuts. PTSD vets are not nuts either, they suffer from a problem caused by being in a war zone.
After I was married, Ron finally won his service related case. But it took him years and lawyer fees to do so. Unfortunately Ron became easy prey for not only strangers, but his own brothers and sisters, who came begging for loans and hand outs. The saga of the two women who entered his life is the subject of the next blog. Penn Yan certainly is full of opportunists who are very willing to take advantage of someone who is mentally susceptible to those who like to manipulate others. In fact, it turned out, both women are experts at taking anyone with houses and money to the cleaners. The first one was hoping to kill him, the second one pretty much did. Penn Yan sheriffs are inept at any kind of investigations. But, perhaps, the sheriffs department was tired of dealing with what they considered, crazy Ron. But I think they are lazy and cover up stuff in order to not have to work hard at their jobs. The sheriff and the VA both dropped the ball and allowed a veteran to die.
Available on: Amazon.com
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The book featured here is appropriate for this blog series. While my husband, Steve, is not still in Vietnam in his head, his book reflects memories of a forgotten war.
Being a forgotten war, with no heroes lauded from it, no decent home coming, and Americans, including the U.S. government, wanting to brush all memories of it aside, one can tell how veterans of that war feel. When a Vietnam Vet suffers from PTSD, it is doubly hard due to the factors mentioned above.
My ex had his head in Vietnam. So much so, in fact, he constantly mentioned what a raw deal Vietnam Vets got from it. A war where for the first time in a very long time. the U.S. government decided to force young men to fight a war that many felt unjust. It wasn't the soldiers' fault they had to go kill people in a country most of us never heard of before. It wasn't their fault they laughed and jeered at the saying "Land of the free." How in Hell is it freedom to be forced into servitude or face prison?
My ex felt such remorse, it just penetrated his thoughts all the time. With PTSD a veteran often feels like the job was unfinished. With no real home coming, there was no closure for their service. No gratitude and no thank you. Ron often expressed how he wished he had 'eaten it in Vietnam.' As time went on, suicidal thoughts grew worse. Every day, little problems most of us face, became blown way out of proportion and I always found myself waiting for the other shoe to drop. I just never knew what chain of events would cause the shoe to drop. Something big or something small? I never could tell until it happened.
There came a day when I grew tired of it all. Tired of the tension, the verbal and physical abuse and our family began to really show signs of strain. I got tired of calling Yates County Sheriff, who did absolutely nothing anyway. I made a trip to Social Services only to be asked by the head worker: "Can't you just make up? Our caseload is heavy right now." I learned, over the course of time, you can either be abused at home, or abused by a system that really does not care. To this day, I see 'Stop Domestic Violence' as a mere slogan, a cause of the week once a year. Why? Well women and children are killed year after year in spite of the supposed awareness going on each year when agencies display their cute little token ribbons.
The first time we had major problems that spilled outside of Ron's comfort zone, namely his closed doors where he could terrorize us, we ended up in family court. Family court is nothing but a zoo. You can go for your scheduled appointment, sit there in a crowd for two hours and then be told your case has been postponed for a month or two. See what I mean by picking where you want to be abused? This behavior is supposed to help families? Hardly. When we finally did get our day in court, I was told by the judge that I needed to go to counseling. Why wasn't the abuser court ordered to go? I was told by the judge: "You need to go to counseling to help you learn how to handle your family problems." A bit ludicrous to put it mildly. So when I see people bitch about 'people on welfare and food stamps' I want to smack them. They have no empathy and no idea what they are talking about. Women and children are using the system. They do not want children to be clothed, fed, have medical care or a safe place to live? Apparently not. Those who bitch about 'those damn freeloaders on welfare' have the audacity to say "stop domestic violence and child abuse' out of the other side of their mouths.
You have to also remember that for many, many years, PTSD did not exist in the eyes of anyone. But then, they did not live in my house either. The suicide talk, the abuse, the talk of how Vietnam just wasn't fair, tends to grate on anyone's nerves over time. The PTSD sufferer blames everyone for their problems, especially those people they claim to care for. They take problems, even small ones as some kind of personal assault, directed at them. They are angry most all of the time, every minute of the day.
While it can be hard to live with someone suffering from PTSD, the constant thoughts of suicide makes it hard for the PTSD sufferer to just plain live.
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