Late June Monte Report

Enough things are going wrong that by all rights I should be in a rotten mood. The mobile home that I'm moving into is a rat-infested, cat-invaded, faulty-plumbing disaster area with a Yellow-bellied Marmot living underneath, and is located in a mosquito-filled (albeit beautiful) valley. I've made four 1700-mile round trips over the past several months to the place. Yesterday I found out that my state disability paperwork is out-of-date and I may owe the state of California several thousand dollars. My prescriptions are running out because I thought I'd have new doctors by now who could help me manage them. The Long-term Disability insurance company through my work is being unhelpful. I'm contemplating cashing in my 401(k) plan. And blah blah blah.

But I'm not in a rotten mood. I'm not sure why, but it might be due in part to a unilateral decision I made to reduce the dosage of one of my medications which is used for squelching mood swings -- perhaps it was squelching them too much and keeping me in a down-mood state. Plus, my parents are helping tremendously toward getting the mobile home transformed into a habitable state -- and it will soon be a clean, cozy home.

Still, I'm very nervous about the future. What if my disability checks cease before I'm able to return to work? Where am I going to find work once I am ready? Am I going to be able to drag myself out of bed each day in the meantime? Am I going to be devastatingly lonely living in this new place? What if -- after all this effort to move to Washington -- I decide I'm ready to return to my old job and want to move back here? Will they even take me back?

So, like I said, I "ought" to be a mess. Just a couple days ago I was feeling quite hopeless and self-destructive, and found myself abusing my sleeping medications in order to cope, but at least today I'm feeling relatively calm. Hopefully this will last.