don’t worry, be confident, have faith

Woke up this morning to fog bank of fear.   Well, actually I went to sleep with it too, and yesterday I spent the day in it.  Day before that too.  It rather gets in the way of productivity.  Let’s see:  these are the things I need to do every day: Script, piano, singing, blog, blog articles, proof-reading/editing work.  Now you wouldn’t think that was much, would you.

Yesterday this is what I achieved.  Hours spent raging about my family – 2.  Revengeful fantasies about ex lover – 2.  Singing – 2  v. good, 5 gold stars.  Script – 0, blog – 0, work – 1.5  v. bad, not enough, will starve after all.  Blog articles – 0, piano – 0.  Educational TV – 2  but we all know I’m lying, more like 4.  Walking to shop and back in gale force winds having only had 2 slices of bread at breakfast – 2.  Curling up into ball of fear – 14.  Yes I know it doesn’t add up to 24, that’s because time is warping.

The world is persecuting me again.  First I finally get internet job, from English Person.  Payment in pounds, enough to pay for myself and have some left over for singing lessons, maybe even dance lessons, new underwear.  Whoopee, freedom for first time in 7 fucking years.  Uh-oh, is that anger spilling out?  You bet.

Get going with work.  Earning potential up to me.  English pounds!!!   11 of them to R1.  Get inspired for everything else, fantastic creative output, heart stops flip-flopping, nightmares subside, future looks possible.  Then method of payment is Paypal.  Don’t have it.  Finally get it.  Banks fuck up 25 million times, finally sort that out.  Money, food, and epilepsy medication running out.  End of month looming.

Employer not sending me work every day.   I send frantic email.  Doesn’t reply.  Send another message.  Doesn’t reply.  Get paranoid that they don’t have as much work as they promised or they are really Martians and all is an illusion.  Whole security balloon pops.

Heart goes into overdrive.  Money runs out.  Frantic.  No food in fridge, no money in purse or bank.  Terror.  No money to phone anybody.   Then get email from owner saying sorry, we owe you some money and can pay you by bank transfer.  Oh fuck, why didn’t I just ask.  So I say thanks and borrow $7 – for milk and bread.  Fuck toilet paper, that can wait.  Try to hold it together.  Fail abysmally.   Feel persecuted.  Fog bank gets denser.  Panic.  Employer doesn’t send work.  Can’t earn.


Money doesn’t come in.  Rent is due on Wednesday.  Can’t go on like this any more.  If this is what my life is, if this is the level I can achieve, I don’t want it.  You can have it, God, take it back, I don’t want it.

Don’t worry, be happy, be confident, just use your mind.  Right.


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