I'm writing this in November. Most of the year is now behind me, so I can start thinking back, about what worked, what didn't, and what I want to do differently going forward.
The biggest word for me this year was, without a doubt, stress. I started the year stressed, I've gone through the year stressed, and unless something changes, I'm not seeing the levels of stress and anxiety go down to acceptable levels any time soon.
January arrived with last year's baggage: iffy work situation, spotty mental health, bumpy economic status.
Work was steady and stable, but not only I felt unfulfilled with it, I also didn't really get along with my boss.
My mental health was doing better since there was progress on that front during 2018, but I was (and am still not) OK.
Money-wise, the ongoing renovation work on a property I purchased in April 2018, which was supposed to start paying itself back around the end of Summer of that year, was still ongoing, thanks to not one, not two, but three(!) crappy contractors, two of who took part of my money and ran away. Luckily, the mortgage is low, but it was still straining me, and "disposable income" is something I had been missing for the better part of three years, at this point, so not fun.
Of course, I'm apparently a masochist, as you'll see shortly, but I digress.
So, with that state of affairs, let me go through what happened during the first third of the year:
- The request I had made late December to move to a new job was accepted by the entity that was to receive me, which basically caused a massive pushback from my old bosses, who were not really amused by my request to leave them (hey, it's not my fault you've failed miserably to hire new people, leaving a ~5-person workload being shared by two employees, one of them - me - being tasked with a workload of roughly 3 people).
- Which caused yelling to happen (by both of my bosses), and one week out from work on medical leave because my anxiety spikes were so high just thinking about work would make my heart start racing. 120+bpm occurrences during the day were frequent, and SOS anxiety medication is still something I carry in my wallet.
- The second crappy contractor, coincidentally part of my boyfriend's extended extended family (not directly related, but an in-law to an in-law), decided they didn't want to be bothered with, you know, actually doing work. Not only did that set back the already late construction a few more months, because finding an even remotely decent contractor is more difficult than finding a needle in a haystack, but it also contributed to my ever-dwindling stack of spoons.
- Just before I got the news I might be moving jobs, I bumped into my real estate agent while doing some errands. She told me about a REALLY cheap (for the size and location) plot of land. Basically ready to build. Yeah, I told you I'm a masochist. My boyfriend and I have been trying to find a detached house to buy or build for two years. Previous attempts always fell short, and we had kind of put the thought aside, but this was too good of an opportunity to pass up.
- So, queue dipping into the ever-dwindling savings, get the run-around from banks and their constantly-moving goalposts and start the process of actually building a house.
In summary, for the first third of the year: job switch, crappy contractor, new investment, banks being banks, headaches galore.
My therapist had her work cut out for her, though for the most part she was able to keep me sane(ish), despite my horrible habit of overreacting, and me actually having gone out of my way to procure an added source of stress (the plot of land). She understands why I did it (for the second time, buying the property being renovated was a similar occurrence), but she urged me to stop doing that kind of things, since while it does make me feel something (after having been depressed for a long time, stress is one of the few things that kicks me into gear, and makes me feel alive), the amount of anxiety I've been under is not healthy.
I agree with her wholeheartedly.
Things were better during the second third of the year, the end of August was the best time for me this year (and probably the better part of the last decade, to be honest). There were still rough spots, however, some of them still lingering in the background to this day:
- May started with (quite literally) ups and downs: my job transfer having been approved, I started at the new place on the 2nd. Which is fine, but on the 6th I had a workplace accident (rather nasty sprain that keeps on being annoying), which had me walking with a cane for about a month, and in and out of doctors for two. Not fun.
- Having gone through yet another contractor (seriously, what is wrong with them?), and needing to ask my dad and boyfriend for help, I finally managed to finish up the renovation. Thanks to my real estate agent and the crazy housing market where I'm at, I had it rented out by the end of August. Finally.
- My commute was slashed by 75%, or by over 90% when I bike rather than walk.
- The extra time has allowed me to keep up with house chores, like dusting and washing clothes, which were getting either neglected or done haphazardly, most of the time. Still a bunch of stuff to do, though, to get back on track.
- Plans for the new house have been filed with the City Hall. Banks are on stand-by until we get the final approval, though. Takes forever to get anything approved, though, so that's a slow-burning issue bugging me on the background.
Which brings us to the last third of the year.
September started with a bang. I was doing so well mentally, I decided (not 100% sure it was a good idea, but oh well) to add to my workload, by launching this blog.
Things have stabilized at work, too. I've gotten into the rhythm, and though I'm still getting big doses of Impostor Syndrome, because just about every day I get stuff I had never done before, it's still way more rewarding than the previous job, and much less monotonous.
On the economic front, at long last, my investments have started paying off. I pretty much doubled my income, so my savings are actually a thing that exists, and I've been actually able to start putting aside some money for disposable purchases.
And yet, for some reason, I've been steadily declining mentally. Sadly, my therapist went on maternity leave in August, so I've been lacking that guidance. I'm still holding on as best as I can, but I do feel like I need to go back, because I can feel myself starting to spiral again.
At the same time, as things calm down, that stress gets replaced by the "meh" feeling that permeates my life when I'm not in a "fight or flight" status. If you're a Simpsons fan, you probably remember Bart and Lisa's apathy when Homer tries to get them excited to do something (I believe it was going to a water park).
I know I'm objectively well-off, right now. I have a steady job (as soon as my previous workplace OKs my permanent transfer, that is, otherwise I'll need to go back sometime in 2021). I have money in my bank account. I have some savings (and with great potential for increasing them, at least until construction on the new house begins). I have investments that pay themselves, with plenty to spare. I have a place I can call home. And last, but not least, I have a boyfriend that loves me.
And yet, on one hand, I feel a huge nothingness engulfing me. And on the other one, an ever-increasing amount of anxiety about me, my body, my being, that keeps taking away the few spoons (Wikipedia) I'm able to collect to pay back the colossal spoon deficit I've been running on for at least 15 years.
And so I end my days tired, mentally exhausted, trying to find a way to just be, to just shut up my brain for a few minutes, so I don't worry about the million things that constantly run through my mind.
Hopefully, it will get better. Hopefully, I'll manage to get semi well-adjusted, and the boyfriend my boyfriend deserves.
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