Tag: anxiety

News Updates

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

Contract Sealed is up for pre-order. I thought I was doing pretty good until I crashed directly after this happened.

I’ve been pretty stressed out about where my future income will come from. I had a choice between two employers who would have taken me (near as I can tell) and I chose the one that was the… well, employers aren’t supposed to be like that?

And, I applied for a position and didn’t get it. Then I applied for another one and I was waiting and waiting. During the wait, I got the pre-order for Contract Sealed up. But as soon as it was up I crashed.

Like, laying on my couch, covered in blankets, trying not to cry as my cats pawed at my face because I never do that.

Oh, and my boyfriend broke up with me. Chose a job over me which is only a couple hours away but I thought a couple hours and he thought way too far. It was one of those I like you but I don’t want a long-distance relationship. It’s not you, it’s me.

And three days later I tried to go back online and to the sites because I know how hard it is to find someone when you’re me.

A demisexual with a really dark past.

I think I’m just going to keep buying succulents and adopting cats. I think that’s just the end of my dating because I can’t do this anymore.

And that somehow got me to thinking about my writing. I’ve been at terms with being a demisexual on and off for years but coming more to it and it was sometime over this past week that I realized that’s why I love Mr. Wrightworth so much.

I think I made him hot. He is hot, right? Like, attractive? I can’t remember anymore, and my basis of attractive has always been skewed so I try to use descriptive words I’ve seen and heard about ‘hot’ people.

Anyhow, all that got me wanting to write more of the Contracted series, but I have to edit Contract Delivered first and I put that off in the hopes of being able to pop up and be like SURPRISE! Mars Red is going live in two weeks.

But this past week has had me so down that all I’ve done is stare at pictures of succulents, order seeds online (which probably won’t be processed for two months let alone shipped so no worries about moving a virus across the country), and obsessively brush and pet my oldest cat, Izzy.

Over the past couple of days I’ve come to realize that my female MC from Mars Red is some grey-ace or possibly demisexual herself. The other two were a lot more interested in their beaus. She’s just like “Oh look, Olympus Mons! Can we climb it, can we climb it? Pleeeeeassseee can we climb it?” meanwhile the other humans involved in the book are seeking sex from their adventure buddies, figuring that’s a part of the package.

So… I’m going to run with that line of thought. If it works out that way, then it’s just something for the grey-ace and demisexuals out there, and how many romance books are angled toward them?

Like, none, unless Contracted counts because, let’s face it, something about that keeps pulling me back.

Last night I finally heard about the position, was offered it, actually. I was very excited and very happy. I’m hoping this is a turning point. I haven’t been in an uncertain employment relationship in a long time. Sure, there were times I thought my old job would fire me, but at the end of the day that wouldn’t have happened short of showing up drunk and I wouldn’t have done that.

And there’s the possibility of being quarantined due to COVID-19. I have no health problems that would react to the virus, but I do live in a house with people who might be put at risk if I were to take ill, or if someone else was to bring it into the house. Also, my workplace is the such that everyone and anyone can afford trips. Cruises and trips down south, it’s like everyone’s on vacation, practically.

It’s also done with computers, so if we are quarantined, or self-quarantined, then we can work from home and I am so happy I have dual monitors at home. I would not want to do my job with one.

So, if I’m quarantined with work, then I’ll have work. If I’m quarantined without work, my hopeful plan is to write Mars Red. And if all else fails, let’s face it, I have so many artistic projects on the go, I’ve got enough to last me a couple of months. Not including my reading list.

Fun story, I had one roll of toilet paper left and had to go to two stores to find a pack. Then there was lots of what I can use with my system but nothing else (thank goodness) and I still got the weird “crazy lady” looks for buying one pack.

Medication

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

At this point, I’m almost certain my medication is interfering with my ability to write the way I used to. It’s altered my obsessive traits from the mental to the physical.

I mean, I made three blankets, two cardigans, and a hat in a month (crochet). I bought a piano to play but I can’t… it’s apparently along the same synapses as writing but I was so close to taking off with that. Now I’m cross-stitching.

But I can’t…

I just can’t.

I have at least three more months of meds. At that point my doctor wants to review whether I should go back on them. I’m going to ask to be weaned off and see if I can function better then.

Until then, I need to focus on putting myself back together enough that when I’m off the meds I can… do all the things while doing writing. I want, so badly, to publish twelve books this year but my mental health was failing when I walked into the doctor’s office which is how it came out, how I ended up on the medication.

So I need to put myself back together after decades of being shattered. And it’s killing me a little bit because not being able to write makes me want to crawl into bed and not get up again, but at the same time I know this is temporary. I remember what it was like before and I don’t want that but I also don’t want this.

I suppose that means in the usual fashion I’m going to burn the world to the ground and fix this all for myself.

I want a world where I write, but I also want a world where my PTSD and panic disorder and general and social anxiety don’t eat away at me. I know I’m a strong, extroverted personality that will make friends and change what’s broken in my environment and life. I’m a leader and creative and can be explosive when pushed too far. But my mental health problems have reduced me to a basement gremlin growling at sunlight and hiding under blankets.

So… over the next three months things may seem strange. I may not edit Contract Sealed and Contract Delivered, but that’s not because I don’t want to. I might get wrapped up in Awakened or in a new series I’m working on: Coventry.

Or I might just update The Others randomly.

I just want you to know that the weirdness isn’t because I don’t want to finish these projects. It’s not because I don’t want to write Mars Red, because that would be amazing for me…

It’s because I have three months to piece myself back together enough that when I’m off the medication I can still stand toe-to-toe with an idiot three times my size, carrying an axe, and I can still meet the eyes of my co-workers… and maybe carry on a conversation.

In the meantime…

Re-read your favourites, drop me a line, or, if you really want to help me out, leave a review on Amazon, tell your friends, or talk to your local bookstore about carrying my books.

Changes

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

Oh boy…

So. Due to things, I lied to you guys about my employment. This is clearly a pen name, no one is so awesome as to have a last name of DeAniege. I had been with my employer for twelve years and then two very important positions quit and one important body decided to go on on vacation for a month over Christmas in retail.

Their plan?

Me.

That’s a huge backstory and yes, I was an amazing body to have. But I said I couldn’t do it but it still sort of kept coming and I had called it already. I get they needed me, I get that they may not exactly make it through the peak season without some… let’s say some casualties, but I had to do what was best for me.

I started working for another company in my field of study about a month ago and so I gave notice at my long term job.

My course is coming to a close in… gosh, a month now, and this company I’m working for is not only amazing but they seem to want me to be there. Not to mention I haven’t tried working for the other major employer in my field, in my area and they’re willing to interview me for a position that I think is way to important to put a “student” into.

And about six weeks ago, I got a doctor. In my area that’s hard. There’s this thing with like… living in the province with the five top richest families in Canada or something and they control everything and keep it super hobbled. Though, admittedly, it’s gorgeous land and barely dug into from what I can tell but still.

One of them is an oil company…

Anyhow, I got a doctor and during the first appointment, he said he didn’t want to prescribe anything for my anxiety and I nodded in agreement. The doctor gets his way, it was just the introduction and I knew it would be an uphill battle to get my mental health seen to. I’ve heard stories of this all and I tried all the things but was melting down to the point that I wouldn’t talk to my friends in school. I’d just kind of grunt, cringe, and bite back the tears.

By the end of that appointment, I had a prescription for an anti-depressant. I started taking it and my mood was like a pendulum that a cat was playing with. It would be good and kind of hover there, then slam back into bad again.

Turns out, what was once my good day is actually a bad day.

How was I getting out of bed every day?

Damn.

I knew I had mental health problems and struggled with anxiety and the like. I tried treating it on my own, without a doctor, because I didn’t have a doctor.

One of the reasons I always resisted drugs when people mentioned them in the past (besides the fact they were being jerks and saying it because they couldn’t handle my personality) was that I had read up on hypergraphia and learned that anti-depressants are used to treat hypergraphia.

I have hypergraphia, but it’s not to the point of being damaging.

Unless you count damaging as losing a relationship with someone who couldn’t understand that when I told him I had hypergraphia and it was linked to Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, that meant that there would be weeks where I wasn’t as loving and responsive as he wanted because I was caught up in the words.

I mean, it also turned out he was a bit of a narcissist and wanted someone to spout nonsense, lovey-dovey sayings about him and support him rather than challenge him while he published his novel through a vanity publisher who can’t tell the difference between patients and patience but it did still cost me that relationship.

So, I suppose, in a way my hypergraphia was damaging a little bit to my life.

… or saved me from a massive mistake.

He’s very happy now and found someone for him, who feeds into what he wants in life, so it’s not all bad, I guess.

Anyhow, I think it was last week when it occurred to me that I’m no longer swimming in words. I struggle to fill a page, I don’t want to use my pens because the compulsion is no longer there. As an instructor is telling us to do something, I am not constructing the outcome out of spare words floating around my mind.

I am no longer the go-to. I can be, if you want editing or construction or management, but if you want something finely crafted, I can’t always be the go-to. I try to end things with “and something-something, an ending here.”

My stories and worlds have been slowly bubbling under the surface. Mr. Wrightworth visited for a time, bent Nathanial over the bed… and the floor… and the couch.

Damn it, he bothered me for days.

And there’s a running world, a new one, when I need to fall asleep but can’t. A messenger in a world of low tech. All they do is ride from city to city under the rule of the Guild, protected from everything and carrying messages silently. It’s… peaceful.

Except for the war that broke out, and the man determined to learn their identity, who then does and refuses to tell the Guild who they are while chasing after them, trying to find alone time.

Yeah, so that might be happening. I’m just trying to figure it all out because I’ve been riding in the messenger’s head so I know all about them but the story itself would be told from the perspective of others who don’t know.

Anyhow. After a week on my medication, I began talking to an old flame who had some mental health difficulties of his own. We broke it off when he decided he didn’t have the energy to look after himself and to carry on a relationship where we barely saw each other. The timing has changed, we’ve both changed. Things are going well.

A week later, I had a new job. Three days after that, I gave notice at my old job with no regrets.

I started talking to people in my class. Not everything was the end of the world anymore, which I knew to start, but struggled with.

There was a paper I read once which is always hard to explain and I wish I had saved it. But it’s been a decade and I was doing drunken research of psychology papers. What it basically said was that children who grow up in certain environments struggle later on. It was made into a metaphor. If you grow up in the mountains and find yourself on the plains as an adult, all you’ll see are mountains.

My brain needs a rest. It’s been in survival mode so long, it didn’t understand how to be anything else and I now have about six months reprieve. In six months, my case will be reevaluated and I may be taken off my medication. That both terrifies and excites me.

I’m not writing like I used to and I miss that. I still get wrapped up and obsessed with certain things, like Mr. Wrightworth trying to add five chapters to Contract Sealed in sex alone, but getting it onto paper or written form is a lot harder. I’m no longer thinking in letters or words. Memories come back to me. I recall what happened the day before even a week ago, better than I ever have.

My brain is rewiring itself and if this is how regular people see the world… I’m confused. I can still do what I could do before. Still be as fast, still be as accomplished.

Just proves that my being able to knock off due dates and tasks so fast isn’t a me thing. I’m not a special bunny, anyone can do it.

But my written words seem to fail me.

So, when I needed something to do because gaming wasn’t an option, I decided to learn crochet. It’ll be hard, I told myself, difficult, surely.

… I’ve completed a lap blanket, an afghan, a cardigan, a bag, and have now started a new blanket for my boyfriend.

Guy doesn’t have a warm blanket, who doesn’t have a warm blanket? I mean, he has plenty of blankets, but none of them generate the amount of warmth I need.

Anyhow, I did four projects in four weeks. No, I’m not kidding. Yes, that’s a full-sized afghan. I think… uh, 52×60 or so?

The bag pissed me off. It took forever. The new blanket promises to take a while which I’m not overly happy about because I’m supposed to really devote myself to edits starting on Tuesday and it’s a Christmas gift.

Oh, yeah, I’m back to work on Tuesday. Dire Consequences, Contract Sealed, and Contract Delivered are written and should be published. And I want to write Mars Red, and Kaz at least.

Struggling

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

I’m having a bad mental health week. It’s mainly a bunch of events which are toppling on top of one another, and because I’m so self-critical, the first couple wore me out, and then my problems compounded the actual problems.

Which all ends up meaning that all I want to do is sleep.

My student grants were absolutely gutted by OSAP, I received maybe a quarter of what I did last year when I had a higher income. Oh, and one of my grants from that province might have also been retroactively turned into a loan. Not because I don’t meet the criteria for the grant I was given but because.

I wasn’t taking any loans, I was only taking grants. It’s not necessarily about pride, it’s about how I know I’ll feel once I get out of school and have to pay off yet another debt. It’s bad enough I was living in said province and in poverty despite making well above minimum wage because of the cost of living. Bad enough I’m deeply in debt because I had to buy food while in said province and it was either on my credit card or going hungry.

But, hey, let’s suddenly change the rules and change this, so I have to pay it back even though that’s not the agreement we entered in the first place.

That, of course, led into a conversation with my boss where I told her about my grant situation and how I needed the hours from the start of last year (basically whatever I could get) because my funding has been gutted. Except my hours are suddenly being cut with no explanation.

And, frankly, I’m not going to ask. At this point, it’s a whatever. Yet again this company is not keeping its verbal agreement and, yet again, I’ve had no advance warning or talk before it happened. Fine. Whatever.

Except it also means I can’t pay my full board to my relatives because I do need food and gas to get to and from school and I know we agreed what I could afford but they’ve been receiving the same amount for the last year, so it’s come as an expectation but my next pay, at this point, would barely cover the boarding price, let alone anything else I may need.

So, a job opening came up, and I applied and had an interview yesterday. I did well until they reached the self-critical questions because I’m very critical of myself and “I’m a fucking idiot” is not an acceptable answer in an interview. And I reviewed these things with myself beforehand, but I fumbled, freaking fumbled.

It would have been a perfect job too. Described as data entry with a bit of research.

That’s my bread and butter. It’s basically what writing and editing are. Data entry and a bit of research, and what happens when I make a mistake?

I pretty well beat myself into a puddle and a mess.

So… probably not getting that job. It would have worked around my current job too which means my income would have gone up instead of down and I would be in the field I’m training for instead of being in the wrong field while in school.

Gawd, it would have been amazing.

So, all that was hanging over my plate after my bad mental health week.

One of the places I want to go has a medical checklist. I get it, I understand why I need it filled out. But I have no doctor because I’m an orphan patient. So… I started calling around to walk-in and after-hours clinics. You know, the places people like me go when they have a problem.

Turns out none of them will even look at the form. I told them it was school leading into work and they still won’t do it. I contacted the health network, and they seemed confused because I should have been able to go into any walk-in and get that done. I asked for specifics and gave them the names of the things requested, and they gave me some language to use and a specific clinic to go to.

The clinic is almost half an hour drive away, but you know what? If it gets done.

Oh, and that also appeared over my plate after my bad mental health week.

All happening as a personal thing is going down and I’m crying over it. Not because I’m sad, but because my system is just so overwhelmed it’s like “Fuck you, I’m shutting down.”

I haven’t had a week this bad in a very, very long time, and for that I’m grateful. But it’s definitely causing other problems.

Last night I had dinner with new people, and it’s this group that gathers once a month and is part of an association. I wanted to join them last year but couldn’t because I couldn’t get a day off once a freaking month to go. So that caused some anxiety, but it ended up being good. The only issue was that it was at the end of everything else. Everything else happened, and then I went to this dinner.

But the dinner was good. Except for the part where I didn’t talk to very many people because all I wanted to do was curl up in the corner and weep because my system is still in overload.

I did not cry.

Good for me.

As I was driving home last night, I was utterly exhausted. I showered and went to bed only to wake up this morning feeling like I had woken from a fever, except the fever hasn’t broken? It’s not that relief of a fever breaking. Everything is aching, and my head is full of clouds, and the only feeling I’m sure of is being cold and being tired and wondering who beat me up while I was sleeping.

I don’t recall any dreams. All I know is that Darius, one of my cats, climbed onto my face and then checked on me several times as I tried to fall back asleep. He ended up sleeping curled against my neck and face for several hours. The rest of my night was sleep, just sleep, near as I can tell.

So I shouldn’t feel this way.

Today, I’m basically waiting on a rejection letter. I’m expecting it, but it’s not going to feel any better when it arrives. Because I know my mood at the moment, I’ve made certain a game is up to date on my laptop, and that’s what I’ll be doing today. Playing the game instead of trying to edit or write because I just… I can’t right now, no matter how much I want to.

I have three books to edit, and I really want to get them done. Dire Consequences is what I’m in the middle of, but I want to get into Contract Sealed. I just feel like I could use some Mr. Wrightworth right now.

Progress

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

Grim Port is up for pre-order, the file complete. Grim Haven is about halfway through the read edit, I’m still hoping to have it done tomorrow, and to start Grim Travels tomorrow.

After that I don’t know what I’m doing. I plan to take a couple weeks off and such…

Mr. Wrightworth is up and wants to play more with Will. I think I have him on the hook to do edits and re-writes for Nate’s Story as that is my desire, to finish with that and publish it. Then the novella for Mr. Wrightworth which segways into Will’s story, then rewrite Will’s Story into probably three books, at least one more though to make it work, then on to Contract Gifted to expand that into at least one full book. Then to wrap it all up with a book about how Mr. Wrightworth got out of the slum at which point the entire series is wrapped up and ends with his birth name being revealed.

I don’t know why, that’s just always been the shifting ending.

I also want to write D.o.t.A. book three, which is a Morgan and Rachel story with more smut than book one.

But I need to put the vampires to bed for a bit first.

My problem is: I think I have an episode coming on. Extreme stress, frustration, and being overworked does it to me. This is, I think, the first in a year, but it messes with my memories. I was hoping if it happens, it happened around my relatives so I could get an actual freaking recording of it to submit to a doctor.

You know, to get properly treated.

I’m concerned about it because suddenly it’s on my mind. I almost never think of them. And something I’m taking helps with anxiety, sleep, and supposed to treat the conditions I may have but have no proof to give to a medical professional for. The brain’s a funny thing. So, in theory, it shouldn’t happen.

But if it does, it will be in the next week and I won’t be home.

If it happens at school I’ve got two ex-nurses in the class, I should (in theory) be covered there. Except I think if it’s a seizure, even though it wouldn’t be a physical thrashing type, they would call an ambulance and I can’t afford the bill right now.

If it happens at work I’m going to get two middle fingers up in the air and will have to work through it. I would reach out and have someone pick me up after as I don’t think I’ve ever driven after an episode and I’m not about to try now.

Work changed my schedule, took away my every other Sunday off until I don’t know when. I’m working mornings as well. I don’t know why. I can assume it’s because of vacations but someone is coming in to cover the other vacation so I’m not understanding why this person who is covering isn’t working all the shifts to give me a day off.

I kind of mentally clocked out when I found out I wasn’t getting another day off. I do recall something about it not being fair to the others.

What about fair to me?

I can’t argue for my day off though. I feel like if I do I’ll be asked to step down. I’ll be reduced to minimum wage and have to open my availability and work my hours to make what I do on a reduced hour schedule. I can’t advocate for myself because I’d be reduced to a normal part timer, is what I feel.

Except I’d still be expected to do the things I do now, and wind up training my replacement while making minimum wage.

To me that doesn’t sound fair. And when I feel like that, I’m more likely to have an episode. It breaks my brain when I’m put in a no-win situation.

Why am I worried if I’m taking something that’s supposed to reduce or get rid of episodes?

Supposed is the key word there. I’m not with a doctor, this was not suggested to me by a health care practitioner. I did research and then went with what I could to lower my chances of having an episode while I wait for a doctor.

Also, last night when I was talking to a client the edges of my vision began going black. My face went numb and thank goodness for the voice that screamed, “Oh shit, something’s wrong!” or I probably would have passed out.

Not that the client would have helped me, as somehow I screwed up and the interaction went south very fast but I’ve found I mimic when I start checking out and people don’t like that.

Afterward I started crying uncontrollably and had that godawful hollowed out sick feeling because not fainting didn’t fix whatever is wrong.

I think I need to be put on stress leave. I just need a couple of weeks, even if it’s just school.

Can’t get a summer job, all postings are now for those ages 15-30 because of a government program and I don’t qualify because of my age. I can no longer afford to take the summer off because of the uncertainty of the student loan/grant system which is supposed to fund my school. It’s currently being gutted both by the province I once lived in and the one I now live in because “it’s not fair to those who have student loans and are paying them.”

…

No. And since apparently no one here wants to vote, I’ll fucking vote and I’ll vote to get you out of office. And, bee-tee-dubs, this isn’t a bipartisan system so your ‘competition’ is also not getting my vote unless they are actually what is good for our future.

May Starter

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

Work took away my day off and I don’t know why. No explanation, I haven’t been back in. I know another manager is on a two week vacation, but I was managing my days off when we didn’t have her. This is a stress on me. I felt like I was finally starting to feel almost stable again.

Getting things cleaned up and organized, ticking tasks off my list, buying plants.

I never really buy plants while depressed. I don’t understand why that is.

I’ve got some seeds coming my way. From online so I can only say they’re supposed to be Desert Rose, Dragon Tree, and an Aeonium mix.

Yes, I could buy Desert Rose or Dragon Trees but I’m having terrible luck buying plants. They look fine in the greenhouse/store, I get them home and put them in quarantine and mites appear.

It’s not an all over the house thing, just a me thing.

Or they’re planted in the wrong soil and have root rot when I receive them but it’s so new I can’t see it.

Saw a house with a small orchard within my price range and desperately wished I could afford it now. A small orchard, a shed for small animals which housed goats and birds, zoned for small animals and it looked nice on the inside but in an ‘ish’ fashion which means I’d renovate and really make it mine.

I need to get on Sims and design an approximation of a house I want. Then I will have a bit of an idea and know what to look for or what sort of a blueprint I need made to build a house.

I know I’m going to get distracted and add a pool or some such. Then it’ll be a hundred hours later and I’ll have altered the entire neighbourhood, but that’s okay. As long as I get that first house done.

I’m going to refinish a couple of chairs.

I know what you’re thinking: but Aya, you don’t have time.

See, I’ve also altered my pain management. After hitting the edge of my tolerance Friday and still having to work then, a full shift on Saturday, and a half-shift on Sunday, I was beyond what I can tolerate.

So, I decided to take it upon myself to alter my management. Two of the pain killer / anti-inflammatory pills try to kill me from the inside out, from the feel of it. The one was like magic when I first took it buy my delicate little system decided to shove two middle fingers into the air.

Between the intestinal pain and all over body pain, I’d actually rather the all over body pain because I’m so used to it that I don’t feel it as pain any more.

So far it’s been good, of course, it’s only been a couple of days. All of a sudden I sleep, I eat (but not in the mornings because that’s madness), I clean and have interests in hobbies and activities again. Yesterday the pain came back at 1 p.m. but after two days without it was actual pain. I felt it like pain.

It started in my back and spread to my arms and shoulders. By the time my class ended I was basically laying on my desk, it hurt so much.

Each morning I wake up, I feel stuffy still. Like there’s cotton stuffed into my joints. So I take to ibuprofen because despite what the internet tells me, that stuff never causes any problems for me. By the time I’m done my coffee, usually, it’s all fine and done.

Today my back is still aching, or aching again, but I think that’s being exasperated by the couch I’ve decided to use again. I need to re-stuff the cushions and, I think, add ties to the corners to keep them from sliding about the couch. I never had this much issue before, surely.

Today for school we’re doing a volunteer day. Me and almost half my class are going to a place together. Rumour is I will be doing administrative work with one other person, while others do another equally important but unknown task. I signed up for the task and then heard someone else mention an instructor.

Yeah, signed up without reading beyond “may involve administrative work” and what group we were going to work with. Turns out, I signed up to work with a teacher we had back in Fall and who I really missed.

I’ve come to like… most… of the instructors, but she could very well be my favourite.

I finally managed to get confirmation from the one that she understands the only place I want to go is the hospital, but she said nothing about having me on the list. She didn’t even recognize that I was sitting at the table until that exact moment. She’s taken to doing that and it’s exclusion which by her own words is a form of bullying.

I had something to share the other day which I found interesting and brought it up because the topic was brought up and she barely let me talk before she started talking over me. A nurse ahead of me turned around and wanted to discuss the subject so the instructor called her attention over as if we hadn’t been talking and asked what she thought on the topic.

She doesn’t do that if anyone else starts talking about… anything. Could be school based, could not be school based, could be inappropriate. She lets them finish. Me? I want to talk about how you can’t get the Hepatitis B vaccine at the moment because there are none, but new babies are supposed to be vaccinated at birth against Hep B and suddenly the conversation has to end.

I get that I have attention problems and most people see that as being disrespectful, but the fastest way to get anyone involved in a class is to hear them out about topics which pertain to the class and which they are also showing interest in. Quickest way to make them stop paying attention?

Cut them off and make them feel invisible.

Instead of paying any attention in her class I’ve started reading the book on my own, or doing online research into health news and current research. She makes me feel like she doesn’t want me in the class and I don’t need or want that kind of negativity right now, as I’m trying to build myself back up.

It’s not really my fault that as I rebuild myself I can split my attention between two things and take both in just the same. It’s also not my fault that I can’t focus on one thing anymore. There’s no panic about the whole thing. I’m just taking information in passively.

I used to do it all the time, before I got run down, depressed, and just blah.

I missed the old me, I’m glad she’s back without as much baggage or anxiety.

New Plan!

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

This is how I know I’m in the middle of some kind of meltdown.

I keep making plans and adjusting plans and figuring out plans and just… just just, you know?

If I could find a job with a steady income I could buy a house. Or at least get pre-qualified to buy a house. This is part of my long term plan. I understand repairs would be on me, but there’s this deep need of mine to own the land I live on. I’d have a garden and almost never mow the lawn because anyone who bitches can do it themselves.

So it has to be in the country, obviously.

I’d probably mow the lawn, but later on.

So, buy a house, have a child, pay off my mortgage and then “retire” on the writing.

See. Plan.

Shhhhhhh, don’t talk numbers to me. Don’t tell me how the writing isn’t guaranteed to pay for me and a child. Just take that little urge to talk and smother it.

I talked with someone else who told me a credit score her bank gave her for her steady income job in a different but also necessary field. I consulted an app in my bank because when I reached out for a specialist nothing happened. The app takes the information my bank has on me, which is a lot, let’s face it, and spits out an estimated credit score.

Okay, I’m within the range for a mortgage.

My brain just has to obsessively check all these things off.

Down payment, check.

House in the country that needs some work, check.

Don’t worry, not trying to buy a house now.

Then, after seeing my credit score I started backwheeling. Or, back tracking or… whatever. Pay off that debt, that also needs to get gone to get into that situation of living mortgage free and off the books.

Having sat down with a financial advisor before, I know how a bank looks at you. Your money plus your debt equals your worth plus how many “good” debts you have divided by the number of missed payments in the last twenty-four months plus one.

Math.

So I did that and realized there’s a whole different thing going on.

My brain immediately told me I had to work through the summer to maintain income to pay down the debt more. Then I did the math and realized that I would pay off an approximate $300 extra if that happens.

Whereas if I stepped out of work and focused on writing I could get the Nate’s trilogy done, Kaz done, Awakened done and who knows what else (I’m looking at you D.o.t.A, it’s time). So now I’m trying to talk myself out of talking myself out of taking the summer off.

Except this is one of many plans, that particular plan involves not having a summer job at all. I’m still looking and I’d still love to have a summer job in my new field. Luffle it to bits and pieces.

And if I’m there for the summer, working in my field, then there are two possibilities. One is that I got into a specialized program and I’m earning barely above minimum wage but getting full-time hours and that spectacular bonus of having experience in my field.

The other is that I get in at the hospital like I really, really want and I might earn what I’m earning now but from the sound of it they may work summer students (even in my position) full time sort of like an office job. As in 8-4 five days a week. The added bonus being that I’d be in the freaking hospital. Getting experience I want at the same-ish price as my current work is offering me and I’d probably squee through the first three weeks.

The only problem being the possibility of either of those is about… the same as winning the lottery.

Which puts my mind in this spiral of trying to plan finances and making it through. Which is the same as above. It’s like I’m searching for magical money except I’ve kind of found magical money because I had forgotten about the equation my bank uses to determine my worth.

And knowing my worth, having grown up in what my bank classifies as poor, I’m trying very hard to sit on my hands and not spend money. It’s not magic money, just keep doing what you’re doing.

Except what I’m doing gets me so far into it that I can’t see the forest for the fences people have built between me and it.

I think at this point I’ve now decided to find magic money, to find that amount which will drop my worth back to $0.

But that interferes with the house and child.

And if I had kept in the running for the position I withdrew from, it’s possible I’d already be back at $0 or close to and then I’d already be on track for all the things.

Which makes my mind start to spiral again even though I should be freaking happy because my worth practically freaking doubled so why in the hell is this such a freaking problem?

Anytime I sit down to write or edit that’s what starts going through my head. It just refuses to stop. Even Kaz has only gotten a few words in edgewise and he’s super loud and annoying most of the time.

And I know the best thing for me, the best way I can help myself right now, is to finish the edit for Grim Travels and get that up, then take the week to write Kaz for my sanity, then get on with editing Nate’s Story, then edit Kaz, then… then…

See? I need the summer off to get all these things done to realize my dream but I can’t look at my manuscripts without that spiral starting and me getting distracted and sinking into numbers and all the rest.

Writing keeps me sane during all this insanity, it helps give me something to keep going for yet I can’t even manage that right now and it’s frustrating. I don’t want to think about how it could take four years for me to be able to buy a place if I change my plan now. I don’t want to spend so much time focused on the financial status that can’t change without action, time, and patience.

I want to do something that makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something.

So… in the meantime, I’m knitting two more blankets and trying not to beat myself up about not editing just yet. I’m trying not to think about how disappointed I’ll be when I don’t get into the hospital/summer job even though I’ve already realized I’m not getting in there.

No matter what happens this summer, I have a plan to keep going and get things done. This should not be woe-is-me. I should be excited and moving and ticking things off the list and getting a little further into my plan to get a little further ahead before the summer hits.

I just need… to refocus, except I can’t focus. Not even on my favourite instructors. Instead I’m twirling a pen in class and staring off at nothing.

Yeah, you read that right, I’m not even daydreaming in class. I’m not plotting, I’m not planning, I’m not running scripts in the back of my mind during lectures. I’m in class and not only am I checked out of the class, I’m just not functioning.

This isn’t like me, and I don’t like it one bit.

Plan Changes (Again)

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

So, a few weeks back I had a discussion where I stated what I needed to succeed and I was reassured that it was possible. Yesterday I was told it wasn’t possible and I would have to accept the original agreement made at a time when things were lacking and I was trying to be a helpful little bunny or I would need to step down.

Stepping down means dropping to minimum wage. If I work at minimum wage I would have to work my current hours in order to make what I would make on the modifications at the reduced hours.

So… it’s step down for the sake of my mental health.

Or keep going and keep my head above water while not gaining the volunteer experience or peer experience I want to get from my schooling. Not getting back on track with my writing which… I mean, come on, it’s the only thing I’ve got that I still do for me anymore.

But if I step down I won’t have enough money which means I can’t afford anything which means…

Which means I am in full blown meltdown mode.

And I should probably say, my modification request was made after considering what I’m supposed to do. I didn’t ask for less that what is expected of a body filling my position. And I wanted the reduction because I’m getting more and more overwhelmed and stressed out and it’s started this spiral of destruction which affects my ability to work.

Know who’s lippy when tired and stressed out?

This person.

I was in pain yesterday so I took two pills for that and still had sharp, sudden pains in my back. Not in my rib cage or I would have gone straight to a hospital. A coworker commented that I was motioning to about my kidneys. She thinks kidney stones.

I’d go to my doctor except I don’t have one. And I can’t go to emergency because the wait for a bleed or broken bone is six hours. Also, I just don’t have the time, I mean, I physically do not have the time. Between work and school and sleep I think I figured I had something like 45 hours a week that isn’t dedicated to something. And two and a half or those hours are the first half-hour of weekdays when I’m making coffee and breakfast and getting everything situated for the day. Almost five of them are showering and dinner at the end of the day.

It might sound like I have a lot of time, but I’m actually pretty certain I messed up in my addition somewhere because… because I have an hour Monday and maybe two hours Tuesday where I have nothing to do. So where in the heck are the other 32 hours? Because I can’t find them.

I should be editing right now. I was so close to getting into the edit of Grim Travels and then the second discussion happened and my mind just completely shut down.

It didn’t help that my “career advisor” or whatever they want to call them at school, told me to go hand out resumes at doctors’ offices for my on the job training… directly after I told her I am interested in the hospital.

She said to go to her if we wanted to get in somewhere and she would tell us what we needed to make it happen, make phone calls, help us out. It reflects well on her if we get jobs, especially if we get the jobs we want and we are then happy alumni to pass on that bit of information for her.

And then… that.

I need people to stop telling me one thing and then doing another.

It’s not hard. “Everyone in the class except Aya can come to me and tell me where they want to go and I will do my best to get you in there.”

Bam. Done.

I’d be like, “Okay, lady, that’s kind of mean but I’m usually on my own so let’s do this.” and off I’d go getting all the job offers to show her.

Yeah, I’m a spitefully successful type of person.

Even if the conversation went:

“I’m interested in the hospital.”

“Okay, few people get in there. I’ll put you on the list and as soon as they approach us about next year, I’ll pass on your name to them. In the meantime, I’d suggest you also hand resumes out to doctors’ offices, just in case a lot of people want to go to the hospital and they don’t choose you.”

“Okay, I’ll do that, I was planning on doing that anyway, as I know not everyone gets in to the hospital.”

Even though last year’s class, everyone who applied and passed the application process got in from what I heard. Then they all got hired.

So… ya’know…

People I know who have worked for the hospital keep telling me I’ll get in but it’s not a magic job land where I can throw resumes at them and eventually they’ll let me in. If it worked like that I’d already have a job there and most of my stress from this past month would be solved and I wouldn’t be upset with an instructor who I’m pretty certain likes me the least out of all my instructors and just so happens to be our career advisor person… thingy.

I want to be happier at school but work has me in meltdown mode constantly because for almost the last year work has been in constant meltdown mode. Which is why I asked for a modification, so I could go to school like I have for the past two weeks and not felt like I’d be crushed under the weight of my schedule.

First it was no pay raise for the higher position last year. Then it was need to lean on you because this person is leaving and you used to do her job and we need that extra help. Then it was work these extra hours to make this work. Then it was pick up the pace to make this work. Then it was work six weeks in a row without a single day off or time to yourself because it’s our busy season. Then work through Christmas. Then it was you can’t make those changes. Then it was why aren’t these people succeeding? Then it was well… maybe we can work in a regular day off. Then it was this other person left and that person left and the whole place is on fire so lean on you some more!

And now it’s: if you can’t work the previously given schedule at the same rate you were earning without the higher position, you need to step down, revert to minimum wage and we will go without or struggle until a replacement is found and trained.

I feel they would rather not have my position filled than make accommodations for my mental health, of which I was told what I asked for were just to be reduced to the hours that my position is allowed/expected to work.

It’s kind of like saying, “Hey, I drove you crazy (pretty near literally) but you’re being a bitch, so fuck off. No, I don’t want to problem solve. Go away.”

Which I’ve also heard in the past.

I suppose I also feel betrayed and used and that likely is spinning into my seriously downed mood. Someone asked me how my day was and I started crying. That is not the answer to “how’s your day?”

I know when I get stressed out without a break, I go off the rails. I flight right off of them and land in crazy down, then light that bitch on fire and go cackling through the streets. Normally with a bottle of wine in one hand and a cat tucked under my other arm. I know this about myself.

I’m also pretty certain I’ve been saying right along that I need a break, that I need this over here as a break. That I need this week off without being called in and with pay, for my sanity. I need this. I need a day off. I need people to support what’s being done or I need to not be doing it anymore.

I never expect people to look at me and know, “Oh, if she doesn’t eat, she gets cranky.”

I tell them.

Then they laugh and are like, “Oh, you get hangry.”

No, I have snapped at a store manager that I needed food, he snapped back at me and my response made my customer tell me to go eat something while she looked at the wall for five minutes. Hangry is a cutesy term.

I turn into a crazy lady and I tell people that.

Basically it all boils down to: I am stressed.

I need a break and/or a new job that pays above minimum wage and doesn’t want full time hours unless it’s over the summer, then please, yes, throw the hours at me, I will roll around in them like they’re a bed of money, with as much delight as if you made me a bed of money because there’s something about working that just gets everything else working.

Eighty days to Mexico.

This is going to hurt and be bloody.

Etcetera Part Two

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

I didn’t get much work done yesterday as I joined Instagram and decided to do a day in the life of me which makes me tired just thinking about it.

I guess the time I took to upload to Instagram was the time I would usually slip into edit mode. By the time I got off school and went to sit at work I couldn’t really focus on anything. I did a few pages of edits, but yesterday was definitely less edit work than I normally get done, especially with getting off school early.

I also spent quite a bit of time going over options with people. Figuring out my options. I knew I wasn’t thinking straight, so I reached out.

The day in my life doesn’t encompass the mornings. Up at 6 a.m. half an hour to prepare for foodstuffs for the day. About half an hour for my first coffee then about half an hour to get dressed and drive to school where I almost always lose half an hour now to … something.

First semester I’d arrive about 7:30, just like this semester, and I’d edit from 7:36 to 8:30 when my first class started.

Suppose, first semester, I wrote, not edited.

Now, by the time I get settled, it’s 8:06 or 8:15 and I can’t really account for that time besides I set up and get music going.

Mondays I’m upright and by Friday I’m forcing myself through, trying to get something done. And when I say something, I mean school work. I’ve been doing my job so long I can do it even while sick.

That’s not bragging, that’s just a fact of my life.

Fridays, especially on weeks when I start work on Tuesday instead of Wednesday, I am burnt out and look like I haven’t slept. I can do a lot of things during daylight hours. A lot but the balance point is that I need sleep eight to ten hours a night to feel normal. Wednesday to Friday, if I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow, I get about seven.

Sleep is important to my mental health.

Yesterday I made it through without yelling at anyone, thank goodness because no one deserved it. I did end up crying though, when someone told me to call in sick. It’s not something I can exactly do when physically ill, let alone when needing a mental health day.

With me scrambling for a plan, I as much money as I can too, and I don’t get sick days.

Or selling more books. Or covers. Basically, I need to arrange for income in some way.

Etcetera

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

Writing first.

Hera launches next week.

Grim Port is with my beta. I keep forgetting to check in over the past week. Grim Haven is halfway through the first edit and I’m not sure how effective I have been this time around but I’ve got stuff going on.

I’m shifting my plan there to produce a box set of the Reaping in April, then (hopefully) I’ll have Grim ready to go for May to July. That’s how months work, right?

Given recent events, I’ve been trying to dial back on writing but it’s my go to for everything. The only reason I tried dialing back on it was because that’s all I can dial back on.

I had a week off of work then it was canceled, then I was promised as many days as my boss could manage off. She delivered, which I have to say is surprising for my company. It took three days for me to start to unwind but it was only a sart.

My oldest cat passed away on Saturday, which leaves me obviously upset.

It and how much I’m struggling daily leads me to believe I’m mentally unstable. Not in a hurt someone or myself type of way. At least, not physically. No, this is the kind of unstable that takes a strip off someone for taking the last brownie in the cafeteria at school even though I’m back on my diet and am determined to stick to it.

The vindictive little bitch, I think I’ve heard people call it.

Not too many people realize that the ‘moodiness’ people see that appears to be for no reason is really for no reason. The person dolling it out is probably having a freaking breakdown, they’re struggling to hold onto whatever ground they have and can feel it slipping through their fingers.

I need time and to take a step back but as I said, stepping back from the writing didn’t work. I did try, really, I casually world built as I went along and now am writing again. Whole different project there, an entire story to go along with it.

So I’ve sat down and looked at my options for what I can do and it really comes down to to.

Quit school or quit work.

I am halfway through my program and, when done, can get an office job the likes of which sound mildly entertaining but also a lot less stressful. My program is for medical based offices and getting into a medical office is super exciting for me. Why? I don’t know.

At work I am still part-time and feel like the others are pulling away. They don’t want to know what I have to say on a topic and would rather do it their way or do things which doesn’t sound like how the company wants things done but is a grey area so I’m certainly not going to fight them on it.

I don’t have the energy for it.

I’m tired of that fight with difficult team members. I don’t have the energy. All I really want to do is whip out my mother’s special tone of voice and say, “look, we’ve been over this, you need to do your job.”

But I’m still sane enough to know that’s not right.

Two opportunities have presented themselves. When the first appeared I was like yes that’s me, pick me, pick me, pick me.

Now I’m not so sure. Am I ready for the change? Yes. Can I handle the change? Yes. Am I afraid of the change?

Yes, but I’m afraid I’ll be chosen, take it, and regret it later.

The other opportunity, is almost the same. I’m not quite ready for the change. I can handle the change, considering I can handle almost anything. And I’m petrified of the change because I worry I’ll get out there and not be perfect.

Whoopdeefreakingdo, you aren’t perfect.

Welcome to being human.

So while I’m off in my corner, having a bit of a meltdown and waiting for a few things to slide into place or work out or… whatever… I have no idea what’s going on, which way is up, or the time.

Ah fuck, I’m late for school.