The Bloody Doors Off

I’ve been manic for hours, and not sure if I can find my equilibrium tonight without outside assistance. (Like decaf tea. Or another kind of leaf.)

I woke up this way. Really think it’s tied into the anticipation of starting the contract tomorrow. I’m a little nervous about it, but mostly excited. Woke up feeling energetic (or so I thought at the moment). Barely through a cup of coffee and bagel for breakfast when I had a game plan. Laundry. Good idea of have all clean clothes for the first day. So I trundled off, got it done by 3, even made good headway in my book. (50 pages to go.)

But that wasn’t enough.

It was a beautiful day and so a walk was planned. I needed to get a bottle of distilled water for my CPAP so I set out on Gerrard to Food Basics. But of course once I was there, it wasn’t just a 4L bottle I was going to get. I had half the fixings to make a tuna pasta and decided I should get the onions and mushrooms, and whole wheat pasta, and set it up for the week. I’m working 10-6:30 but I don’t know how the evenings will go yet, whether or not I’ll have the energy to cook. And this is how I used to do it, so it made sense. And coffee was on for $6.99 (there’s the sweet spot). Picked up a Timmies coffee for the stroll home. Barely took time to unwind and I was in the kitchen getting the pasta ready. Much better result this time. The secret is using Campbell’s Cream of Mushroom soup. The texture is thicker. The no-name stuff is runny and waters it down. (The other secret? Hot sauce.)

And just as that came out of the oven after baking, I had pans going for a small ham steak and onion/mushroom and cheese omelet (why does that word look wrong? I feel like it should be omelette).  Now I’m watching Once Upon a Time and contemplating whether or not to watch Cosmos at 9 and The Walking Dead after or vice versa. And there’s that bit in the back of my brain that’s thinking about work tomorrow and whether I should set the coffee pot overnight so it’s brewed when I wake up or if it’s better to make it like I usually do (it’s routine after all, and I need routine) and why the hell is Brenchel still on The Amazing Race and damn I really should get over and pour the hot water for my tea and…

And Izzy and Mels are cuddled up beside me on the couch, not giving a shit about anything.

I need to relax like that.

Mels has been fixed, and she’s so over it already. I’d swear she was a hipster, if cats could be hipsters.

Me, I’ll settle for a decent night’s sleep.

I feel like I have whiplash. Figuratively speaking.

Was supposed to into the office today for noon, only to wake up to a voice mail saying they hadn’t heard back from the client and so, don’t bother, just go in on Monday. And oh, instead of noon your training starts at 10am.

I’m fine with all of this. But I was gearing up all week for a certain timetable and now it’s tossed over. I’d set up an appointment for the Wednesday morning, and now have to reschedule.

Ugh, okay maybe I find it harder to just ‘go with the flow’ then I’d like to admit. I was an improviser for over a decade; you’d think I was used to being thrown curve balls. I’ve lobbed a few myself.

In one way it helped that the start date got pushed back; it allowed me to put in a little over 5 hours for another client today (otherwise would’ve been working over the weekend). But I’d just submitted my invoices for the month, and so this’ll have to hold for the end of April. (Which might be better for the bankruptcy.)

I just feel like… fuck, I don’t know. Life is full of change and last-minute hiccups and I should be used to it. So why am I chaffing over this? Why is this stressing me out?

The background check is clear, and the client wants me to start tomorrow instead of waiting until Monday. I’m good with this.

As the afternoon passed though, a bit of anxiety welled up. I tried to take a 30 minute nap, and it attempted a rear flanking maneuver to fuck with me.

But I blocked it.

Because this job is like a pair of comfortable shoes: they fit great, don’t squeak and will take you where you need to go.

I’m built for this contract. And I’ve just begun realizing it.

Diagnosis: murrrrrrrrrderrrrrrrrrrr.

Joking.

Diagnosis: Mild Bipolar 2 Disorder with a side of Depressive Anxiety. Not much change in medications; the doctor’s recommending I stop taking Divalproex for the mood disorder and instead take a low dose of Abilify.

That’s a load off my mind. Seriously. Not knowing was worse. Now a plan of attack can be made.

I can take control.

Here me roar.

Another bout of anxiety a few minutes ago. Fingers are still shaky, and my brain is jumbled.

This one came in like a steam-powered locomotive leaving the station. Slow, and blowin’ a lot of smoke. And it was inevitable; you could feel that it was going to push through no matter the defenses I took.

So I hit the ‘record’ button.

I’ve written about naming my despair and fear.

He’s come back to visit tonight. And I know, beyond all else, that he has no place here. The last thing I want is to be a host for him.

Life hasn’t even been horrible. Not great, but much improved.

So why’s he here now?

Greetings, Professor Falcen.

‘Hello, Joshua.’

Would you like to play a game?

‘Yes.’

How about a nice game of chess?

‘I’d like to play bankruptcy chicken.’

Wouldn’t you rather play global thermonuclear war?

‘Maybe chess then.’

Had my meeting with the bankruptcy trustee today, and found out I’m thisclose to having my bankruptcy extended to 21 months. Why? Because I had a good month financially in October, and EI dumped the medical extension all in the same week in December.

I never thought I’d say this, but thank god I made less than $200 in February. It brought me back down to zero. And as long as I don’t make over $2,205 in March or April, I’ll be okay. (March was a good month, but I’m below the belt.)

Yes, I’m aware the contract with BMO starts next week.

But then I checked the pay schedule.  April 1st-15th gets input by April 22nd, and is paid out May 2nd. I will get exactly 1 day’s worth of the contract paid in April. I think. March 31st might get paid on April 18th.

So I’m okay there. But it also means I’m gonna be really scraping by in April. I’ve got enough right now to pay rent and the bills for the end of the month. And I issue two invoices on the 31st to other clients, and should see that money in early April. But will it last? I dunno yet.

May won’t matter, I’m told. So… whew.

But I do not like playing chicken with my life like this.

There’s stuff I’ve noticed recently. About myself. How I have all my pill bottles lined up in a certain order. (No, not label faced out.) That I can’t resist buying an extra can of coffee when it’s $6.99. Not $7.00, that’s too much. $6.00.

I space out at odd times. I’ll put the kettle on, and steep a tea bag. Actually remind myself to go back in a few minutes to get it. And then forget for half an hour. I have two different sets of cutlery but only like to use one kind.

Man, I’m fucked up.

Anxiety is a sunovabitch.

And you know what I’ve discovered? I don’t know whether it gets triggered when my heart rate spikes, or my heart rate spikes with my anxiety triggers.

So now I’m wired for the next two weeks to find out of there’s a short-circuit. It’s doubtful, however; they did an ultrasound of my heart this morning and apparently my heart is awesome. No blockages, no obvious stresses. Hooray for no more smoking! But to be on the safe side, I have to wear this device 24/7. If/when an attack happens, I hit the big white button. It’ll then store the activity the minute before the event, as well as the next 60 seconds. It can do this 10 times before it has to be taken back. Let’s hope I don’t need to do that.

Tony Stark was able to build this in a cave, with a box of scraps!

I. Am Iron Man.