Changes

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

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.

Summer Plans

I had to open my availability up at work so I’m not a hundred percent certain how this is going to look.

This summer, I want to get through Nate’s Story and have it up and ready to go, preferably to have it launch August 20 but I don’t think I’ll make that deadline. That’s fine, it’s fine, I’ve been brain dead and you have to give yourself time to recover otherwise you’ll wind up permanently shutting down.

I feel like I’m forgetting a magic book or something, just sitting off in the corner of what I wrote before and haven’t finished with yet.

What I’d like to do is write Savage Shores (alien utopia/dystopia thing) I’m writing this because it involves a paradise ship and I’m taking a vacation to basic paradise so I’m going to take a notepad with me and my camera and do some intense research. The intro is written too, I just need to swing in from where I have written, add more steam, bam, done in a week.

… if I… work and Nate’s Story are getting in the way.

Anyone know how to clone a person?

This is definitely where normal people have editors, I know. But the day job isn’t paying a living wage, I can’t afford to pump that kind of money into books at the speed I write without a business credit card and I think my bank is actually laughing at me right about now.

If Savage Shores is written I can mangle time in there to do the edits but that version has to be on my desktop. I use ProWritingAid for that part and it won’t work on my laptop and the help service has decided not to… you know, help me.

I reached the limit of what I can do to troubleshoot at the moment so I walked away rather than spend ten to twenty hours finding the solution when I need that time for other things.

Once Savage Shores is written I’d pretty well launch right into editing. I’ve heard of authors doing all their edits in less than two days. Makes me wonder if I’m being too particular, but I’d …well, I’d like to try something like that and have Savage Shores out this year too.

Nate’s Story, I’m going to start reading again today because there are certain things from Izzy’s Story which need to be seen to in Nate’s Story, you know, plot holes, continuity, etc. So power through that and then start edits. Workload wise, these last two weeks of school sound simple, if they are as simple as they sound, I should have some work periods at school to devote to editing Nate’s Story.

The week of June 14 you won’t hear from me, I will not exist.

Unless I can write off that trip as a research expense, then yes, yes I do exist. But I don’t think that’s how write offs work.

I have two Wattpad stories to update weekly. The one has eleven or thirteen chapters pre-written which will take me all the way to … September? Before I “have to” make time for that but I will likely add more chapters between now and then. For The Arcane, I’ve been writing them weekly, but it’s two to three hours of writing and then off it goes. So I’ll slot that in every week.

I do have a side thing I have to do, but it’s basically a read and format , shouldn’t take more than a couple days as long as I don’t get sucked into doing the cover.

… I’ll probably get sucked into doing the cover.

As of July 1st I am going to sit down and manage and schedule. No school means I have 30 hours a week free. I have one week booked off that’s for family time but it’s not all going to be family time, so out comes the laptop for that.

If, and that’s a big if, but if I get Savage Shores and Nate’s Story done in time? I’m writing Dire Consequences in August. The third and final book of Morgan/Rachel. From there on it’s solo books in the world of daughters.

I need all the luck I can get. But it’s good to have a plan set out, because once I have a plan, I’m more likely to get stuff done. So. Let’s get this done.

Progress

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.

April Updates

I’ve barely started the last edit for Grim Port, moved into Wattpad with a story called The Arcane, been dabbling with cover design and digital painting, and am super manic right now.

Grim Port may be slow because of a couple of reasons. The first being that last in the list: I’m super manic right now. Getting me to focus on words is like trying to feed a child brussel sprouts. It’s not that I have an aversion to words even, it’s that I have an aversion to editing. Normally I’d just hop on over to a story and get it out of my system but this is due in less than a month.

More like… about two weeks.

The move into Wattpad was done because of the manic thrum. I was down and out for almost a month from writing and world creation. Kind of exploded all over all the things. Serialized stories is how I started out and I love them to bits. It’s been years since I did one. Posting to Wattpad lets me get the stories I want to get out, out, while also allowing readers to get something from me that isn’t vampires.

Besides working on Kaz on the side, I’m going to shelve the vampires for a little bit. The three trilogies sort of round out the vampires and they do leave room for creation in the world. I do, at some point, want to write about Mungo and Daisy, and the witch war, and the Ba Re family.

But I also need a bit of a break from them.

Also, readers online prefer the romance. Readers in person like the vampire books better so, you know, if I could figure out how to get them into a book store in a major city, I could get books into the hands of readers that way.

If only, right?

Anyhow, Wattpad will update once a week. I think it was a Sunday I posted? Monday? One of the two, I’ll figure it out on Sunday.

For the cover design, well, it’s not words and it’s basically arts and crafts. I did a quick slap together cover for The Arcane and then did another cover, this one with purpose and attempt to make it look nice for an author named R. J. Price over on Wattpad.

At some point I need to do five fantasy books for the same author, but thankfully it’s not a commission so I’m not pressed to do them now.

I’ve been thinking about redoing the Contracted covers. I love the current covers, but they aren’t what readers are looking for, apparently. I also (still) need to redo the Wraith’s Rebellion covers. Lots of arts and crafts.

There’s also still school and work involved. I didn’t get either the specialized work program for the summer or employment for the summer from the hospital. It almost sounds like they only hired one position for the summer and it’s a friend of mine which is great for her.

So, from the sound of it, I’m stuck at my current job over the summer. Did some more math, can’t afford to quit and just spend the summer focused on my work and publishing like crazy. It’s sad, but that’s the fact of life.

Unless one of you has the winning lottery numbers?

Any job opportunity we hear about, I apply for. Getting into a job next year will be easier if I have experience in my field.

But I’m trying to prattle on to avoid edits, and if I get them done I can move on to another story sooner rather than later.

New Plan!

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)

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.