Again, again, again…
For a while, things go well. I find little things worth my time and worth looking forward to, especially if I shut up, stop making excuses, and actively trust the people I care about/who care about me. I have a momentary glimmer of pride in myself that I haven’t felt in more than five years.
And I ignore the feeling of dread that accompanies those good times – the cold heavy feeling in my stomach – because it can ruin the fun and because it’s stupid to always expect the other shoe to drop, right? That doesn’t always happen. No. Sometimes, you just get to enjoy life and that’s that – there’s no hostage trade-off.
But then there was this (legitimate) email I got yesterday regarding one of the shitty financial matters I’ve been working hard at resolving since April of 2005… the email contains problematic words and phrases that make it sound like I’ve just started working on this particular financial issue recently and implies that there’s a problem. I have 30 months’ worth of statements … and I was actually going to make some phone calls about later this week because this obligation should be just about finished up. I was thinking, triumphantly, that I’d be able to cross one HUGE thing off my list. So I HOPE this email is an error of some kind. I’ll be taking some time in the morning to make a phone call and try to stay calm and get to the bottom of things.
Right now, though, my head is pounding and my stomach is knotted and cold and sick. I don’t know how I’m going to get to sleep. I’m afraid to take sleeping pills when this sort of stress is keeping me up. I actually looked to see whether I had any Percocet left over from my wrist surgery… I don’t, and I kind of wish I did. That’s also a bit scary, but it’s a really effective “off” switch.