tug of war
The minute quillon and I lay down on the bed, my head started spinning.
It was subtle at first, just this pleasant innocuous little sensation, but in a matter of minutes it turned into borderline sea-sickness. The disconnect between what I felt (the room is a great big tilt-a-whirl) and what I saw (we're lying on a bed and it's perfectly still) had my stomach in knots, and the ringing in my ears didn't help matters. I had to sit up, or I was going to throw up.
I'm sure the hash browns had something to do with it. I normally don't sleep so late, so I'm taking my meds around 11 instead of almost 1, and then I also usually don't eat so (relatively) early in the day. But Q felt like making breakfast, and it was yummy, and of course I had some. It was eggs and potatoes fried in olive oil. Lots of fat. So now I am high. I didn't really notice it until we lay down; when I was seated at my computer desk, it wasn't so bad. When I got fully horizontal, it was really bad.
It's moments like these when I ask myself, what the fuck do you think you're doing with your life?
I've mentioned several times that I plan to return to school this coming fall. The long term goal is to get a Masters in Social Work (MSW). RIC has a program where I can do work on both the Bachelors and Masters degree concurrently, and hopefully save time. I'll be paying for this with a combination of Mom's estate and the grant I'm earning from AmeriCorps as Speakers Bureau Coordinator. It's all falling together nicely. I'll also probably end up a Licensed Clinical Social Worker (LCSW), since that both fits with what I think I want to do with my degree and adds a significant amount to what I can expect to earn, on top of the MSW.
The thing is, periodically I have days like this, and wonder: do I really want to work full time again? or do I just want more money?
There's this tug of war going on inside me pretty constantly. One side is in favor of staying on SSDI indefinitely and the other sees SSDI as a temporary support structure while I work on a more permanent direction. Most of the time, at least lately, the latter camp has had the upper hand, but periodically the former camp makes a pretty strong case. It's almost like watching a political power struggle play out inside my head.
I'll call it SSDI vs. LCSW, to make it easy. (Well, it's kind of clunky in a spoken format, but it works in a written format.)
I would love to say that one side is the adult and one side is the child, but it's not that simple; there are times when the inner child thinks going back to work would be better than what I'm doing now, but I think he's got an idealized version of work, whereas the adult wants to play it conservatively and hang onto the income I have rather than gamble on the income I might have (as well as gamble my health). And that's just one of the layers. Both sides (SSDI and LCSW) have aspects that appeal to both sides of my personality (kid and adult).
In a nutshell: the LCSW side of me feels like I'm wasting my life, or at least not doing as much with my life as I could. It's afraid that being on disability is just another form of not growing up, of having an allowance that's not really enough to live on. I mean, sure, I can and do get by on it, but at 37 there's this feeling that I should have more, be capable of doing more for myself. I should be able to save money. I should be able to eventually replace my car. I should be able to upgrade my computer. I should be able to contribute to making home ownership with Q a reality, rather than renting forever. I should be able to do all these things on my own, without handouts from parents (living or deceased). While my income is so limited, these things are out of reach. And there's an acknowledgment that I spend probably a little too much time goofing off, playing computer strategy games or surfing the internet or watching TV. So it's not like I'm actually doing something worthwhile with all this free time I have. When something is too plentiful (like free time), it gets wasted, or not appreciated, and the reality is that I don't have endless free time; someday, I'm going to die, and do I really want all this goofing off to be my legacy? On top of that, everything seems so transitory and precarious at times, because we don't have that many options. What if Q got laid off? My income might barely support me; it's not going to support us, and we would lose his insurance benefits, which would make financing my medical care a lot more complicated. If I had a job, or at least the qualifications for a job, then it would give both of us more options.
Meanwhile, the SSDI side says that I hated work, that I felt imprisoned while I was there and it was the biggest relief of my life (even as it was scary) to walk away from that. It's afraid that I'm only looking at the increased income potential when weighing a return to work (which I might be exaggerating in my head, too) and not looking at the loss of freedom. Do I really want a new car just so I can spend 90% of my time in it driving it to and from work? Am I really just wanting to be able to buy new toys? Is that the real motivation for me wanting to go back to work? It's recognizing that I really value my fluid schedule, and my absolute control over it; what kind of job can I hope to get where I'll have the kind of flexibility that I have now? Even in the best case scenario, it's going to be a shadow of my current situation. It's also recognizing that if I can't manage the little bit of money that I have now in a responsible manner, having more isn't going to change things; I'll just make bigger mistakes with it. And then there's the issue of days like today, when my medication has me feeling like I'm on a circus ride. Am I really up to a forty hour week, consistently, in a physical sense? After five years (holy crap has it really been that long) of not working, can I even handle a school schedule, much less a work schedule? And how much time would I realistically have to save up for a retirement, entering the work force in my early to mid forties? Could my income possibly be high enough (and stable enough) for my standard of living to rise while saving something for retirement? I'm skeptical.
On the last point, LCSW counters that Mom felt hopeless at 50 when Dad divorced her, like there was no way that she could scrape together anything for retirement, and it became a self fulfilling prophecy for her. She had another 17 years, and while she wasn't going to be rich, she could have saved a lot more than she did (i.e. not at all). If she had put aside $20 a paycheck into an IRA, or even 1% of her income into a 401(k), it could have grown into a safety net. She wouldn't have been forced to sell her house (although, truth be told, I'm relieved that she did).
SSDI counters: what if Dubya (or his successors) is somehow successful in fucking up Social Security? Aren't I better off hanging onto the deal I have? Whatever I might contribute to it for ~20 years, I'll probably end up with less than I'm getting now. I might really be screwing myself, even if I'm actually fine to return to work in a physical sense; my "retirement" benefit might be cut in half, because there's going to be this ten year chunk of my life where I wasn't contributing anything to it.
And so the conversation goes back and forth. I'm still not really sold either way. I mean, I'm pretty sure that I'm going back to school, and that I'll eventually make my way back into the workforce, but barring some miracle new treatment (or unforeseen nosedive with my numbers) I don't feel very grounded or certain about any of it. I'm sure, for example, that there will be days in a new job where I'm longing for the freedom I have now, and romanticizing the lack of a set schedule the same way that I currently sometimes romanticize the job I had with US Airways, the excitement and the time pressure and the wrestling with their user-hostile computer system, and the looking calm and composed while juggling all of that. Yeah, it was crazy, but there was a feeling of accomplishment that I managed to pull it off day after day. Accomplishment... and feeling totally unappreciated and used and screwed over and shat upon.
I wonder if I'm ever going to be really, really sure of myself. I've been trying to figure out what I'm going to do when I grow up for all of my life, pretty much. My sister Mikki, in contrast, always knew that she was going to be an English major, and by the time she finished school she was pregnant with her first child, so it just made sense go full time with USAir and move to Baltimore, then Charlotte. She stuck with that until she'd had it with the chaos of the travel industry, and fell back on her teaching certificate. All the choices seem pretty cut and dry for her.
It's never been clear to me. I mean, there are moments when it seems clear, but then I'm always second-guessing myself and never putting enough energy into anything to see it through to a conclusive end. I can blame astrology (I've got Gemini rising, that hungers for new experiences and perspectives, and being born in the year of the Rooster which gives my life a rollercoaster feel), or I can blame my parents (Mom totally undermined any attempt at self-expression, and Dad never stood up to her), but I don't think there's an actual answer in any external thing. Maybe it's just in my nature to go back and forth. Maybe it's the price to pay for being able to see both sides of an argument. Maybe it's okay to be conflicted, and move along in a zig zag instead of a bold straight line.
Still, I have to admit that I keep hoping that something is going to just fall out of the sky and plop! it's all going to make sense and fit together nicely. Even though I know that's a total fantasy.
It was subtle at first, just this pleasant innocuous little sensation, but in a matter of minutes it turned into borderline sea-sickness. The disconnect between what I felt (the room is a great big tilt-a-whirl) and what I saw (we're lying on a bed and it's perfectly still) had my stomach in knots, and the ringing in my ears didn't help matters. I had to sit up, or I was going to throw up.
I'm sure the hash browns had something to do with it. I normally don't sleep so late, so I'm taking my meds around 11 instead of almost 1, and then I also usually don't eat so (relatively) early in the day. But Q felt like making breakfast, and it was yummy, and of course I had some. It was eggs and potatoes fried in olive oil. Lots of fat. So now I am high. I didn't really notice it until we lay down; when I was seated at my computer desk, it wasn't so bad. When I got fully horizontal, it was really bad.
It's moments like these when I ask myself, what the fuck do you think you're doing with your life?
I've mentioned several times that I plan to return to school this coming fall. The long term goal is to get a Masters in Social Work (MSW). RIC has a program where I can do work on both the Bachelors and Masters degree concurrently, and hopefully save time. I'll be paying for this with a combination of Mom's estate and the grant I'm earning from AmeriCorps as Speakers Bureau Coordinator. It's all falling together nicely. I'll also probably end up a Licensed Clinical Social Worker (LCSW), since that both fits with what I think I want to do with my degree and adds a significant amount to what I can expect to earn, on top of the MSW.
The thing is, periodically I have days like this, and wonder: do I really want to work full time again? or do I just want more money?
There's this tug of war going on inside me pretty constantly. One side is in favor of staying on SSDI indefinitely and the other sees SSDI as a temporary support structure while I work on a more permanent direction. Most of the time, at least lately, the latter camp has had the upper hand, but periodically the former camp makes a pretty strong case. It's almost like watching a political power struggle play out inside my head.
I'll call it SSDI vs. LCSW, to make it easy. (Well, it's kind of clunky in a spoken format, but it works in a written format.)
I would love to say that one side is the adult and one side is the child, but it's not that simple; there are times when the inner child thinks going back to work would be better than what I'm doing now, but I think he's got an idealized version of work, whereas the adult wants to play it conservatively and hang onto the income I have rather than gamble on the income I might have (as well as gamble my health). And that's just one of the layers. Both sides (SSDI and LCSW) have aspects that appeal to both sides of my personality (kid and adult).
In a nutshell: the LCSW side of me feels like I'm wasting my life, or at least not doing as much with my life as I could. It's afraid that being on disability is just another form of not growing up, of having an allowance that's not really enough to live on. I mean, sure, I can and do get by on it, but at 37 there's this feeling that I should have more, be capable of doing more for myself. I should be able to save money. I should be able to eventually replace my car. I should be able to upgrade my computer. I should be able to contribute to making home ownership with Q a reality, rather than renting forever. I should be able to do all these things on my own, without handouts from parents (living or deceased). While my income is so limited, these things are out of reach. And there's an acknowledgment that I spend probably a little too much time goofing off, playing computer strategy games or surfing the internet or watching TV. So it's not like I'm actually doing something worthwhile with all this free time I have. When something is too plentiful (like free time), it gets wasted, or not appreciated, and the reality is that I don't have endless free time; someday, I'm going to die, and do I really want all this goofing off to be my legacy? On top of that, everything seems so transitory and precarious at times, because we don't have that many options. What if Q got laid off? My income might barely support me; it's not going to support us, and we would lose his insurance benefits, which would make financing my medical care a lot more complicated. If I had a job, or at least the qualifications for a job, then it would give both of us more options.
Meanwhile, the SSDI side says that I hated work, that I felt imprisoned while I was there and it was the biggest relief of my life (even as it was scary) to walk away from that. It's afraid that I'm only looking at the increased income potential when weighing a return to work (which I might be exaggerating in my head, too) and not looking at the loss of freedom. Do I really want a new car just so I can spend 90% of my time in it driving it to and from work? Am I really just wanting to be able to buy new toys? Is that the real motivation for me wanting to go back to work? It's recognizing that I really value my fluid schedule, and my absolute control over it; what kind of job can I hope to get where I'll have the kind of flexibility that I have now? Even in the best case scenario, it's going to be a shadow of my current situation. It's also recognizing that if I can't manage the little bit of money that I have now in a responsible manner, having more isn't going to change things; I'll just make bigger mistakes with it. And then there's the issue of days like today, when my medication has me feeling like I'm on a circus ride. Am I really up to a forty hour week, consistently, in a physical sense? After five years (holy crap has it really been that long) of not working, can I even handle a school schedule, much less a work schedule? And how much time would I realistically have to save up for a retirement, entering the work force in my early to mid forties? Could my income possibly be high enough (and stable enough) for my standard of living to rise while saving something for retirement? I'm skeptical.
On the last point, LCSW counters that Mom felt hopeless at 50 when Dad divorced her, like there was no way that she could scrape together anything for retirement, and it became a self fulfilling prophecy for her. She had another 17 years, and while she wasn't going to be rich, she could have saved a lot more than she did (i.e. not at all). If she had put aside $20 a paycheck into an IRA, or even 1% of her income into a 401(k), it could have grown into a safety net. She wouldn't have been forced to sell her house (although, truth be told, I'm relieved that she did).
SSDI counters: what if Dubya (or his successors) is somehow successful in fucking up Social Security? Aren't I better off hanging onto the deal I have? Whatever I might contribute to it for ~20 years, I'll probably end up with less than I'm getting now. I might really be screwing myself, even if I'm actually fine to return to work in a physical sense; my "retirement" benefit might be cut in half, because there's going to be this ten year chunk of my life where I wasn't contributing anything to it.
And so the conversation goes back and forth. I'm still not really sold either way. I mean, I'm pretty sure that I'm going back to school, and that I'll eventually make my way back into the workforce, but barring some miracle new treatment (or unforeseen nosedive with my numbers) I don't feel very grounded or certain about any of it. I'm sure, for example, that there will be days in a new job where I'm longing for the freedom I have now, and romanticizing the lack of a set schedule the same way that I currently sometimes romanticize the job I had with US Airways, the excitement and the time pressure and the wrestling with their user-hostile computer system, and the looking calm and composed while juggling all of that. Yeah, it was crazy, but there was a feeling of accomplishment that I managed to pull it off day after day. Accomplishment... and feeling totally unappreciated and used and screwed over and shat upon.
I wonder if I'm ever going to be really, really sure of myself. I've been trying to figure out what I'm going to do when I grow up for all of my life, pretty much. My sister Mikki, in contrast, always knew that she was going to be an English major, and by the time she finished school she was pregnant with her first child, so it just made sense go full time with USAir and move to Baltimore, then Charlotte. She stuck with that until she'd had it with the chaos of the travel industry, and fell back on her teaching certificate. All the choices seem pretty cut and dry for her.
It's never been clear to me. I mean, there are moments when it seems clear, but then I'm always second-guessing myself and never putting enough energy into anything to see it through to a conclusive end. I can blame astrology (I've got Gemini rising, that hungers for new experiences and perspectives, and being born in the year of the Rooster which gives my life a rollercoaster feel), or I can blame my parents (Mom totally undermined any attempt at self-expression, and Dad never stood up to her), but I don't think there's an actual answer in any external thing. Maybe it's just in my nature to go back and forth. Maybe it's the price to pay for being able to see both sides of an argument. Maybe it's okay to be conflicted, and move along in a zig zag instead of a bold straight line.
Still, I have to admit that I keep hoping that something is going to just fall out of the sky and plop! it's all going to make sense and fit together nicely. Even though I know that's a total fantasy.