I generally don't mind starting my week, in fact getting into my office at six and having two solid hours alone to be properly productive is one of my favorite things. Not to mention, I get to enjoy a ton of coffee without having to worry about making a new pot, or dealing with cumbersome exchanges in the kitchenette. I woke up this morning closer to four am than three though still well off the former, only to be kept awake by persistent anxiety and the inability to turn off the incessant thoughts and scenarios about absolutely nothing going on in my head.
Were this a Seinfeld-like show about nothing I wouldn't mind so much, but my subconscious seems to prefer something more akin to America's Funniest Home Videos, where despite the fact that I can, to a limited degree, direct these little facades, I routinely am the one hit in the emotional crotch only to have a different scene with the same result repeat until I can motivate myself to get out of bed. The thing is, were I properly sleeping I don't think this would seem to last half as long as it does, but for me this is invariably paired with the oddest sense of time dilation. What seems like 4 hours, is really about one.
Now that is really not that bad, I deal with that at least a few times a week, generally opting to just get out of bed at 4, and start getting ready for work, or lay quietly with the animals so as not to disturb my girlfriend and the animals which are sleeping near me. I still just do mental laps in the Olympic size pool of self deprecation that exists inside my head. It is really palatial, though I don't recommend visiting often.
After finally deciding to get out of bed a bit closer to six, I got dressed and headed to the train station, and made the smart decision to check my accounts. Smart because student loans, and other bills with some amount of delay in processing hit my balance like a ton of bricks. Finances are one of my larger triggers with regards to my anxiety. I hate money, or perhaps more aptly, I hate that money is a consistent issue in my life and will be for another couple years yet (Knock on wood).
For all intents and purposes I make enough, and even more than some of my fellow classmates who graduated college with me, but margins are still thinner than I would like. Moments like this invariably inspire constant thoughts about how much I won't spend on a given day, more time wasted thinking about every cent. There exists in my head though, an almost self-fulfilling prophecy, that the moment things start to look pretty good financially something large, and unavoidable comes to smack my bank balance down into oblivion
The hardest feeling to shake is one of comparative success. I have about three friends that are in and around my age, and relatively speaking I am doing well; where my brain picks up on discrepancies is namely with my brother. He is five years older than me, studied a major with a much more well defined and lucrative career path, and has worked his ass off for five years longer than I have. Despite being completely cognizant of this fact, I cannot prevent myself from making unreasonable comparisons between him and myself.
Mr. Fry sums things up rather nicely.
There is no one route to success and success certainly doesn't look the same for everyone. I would be insane were I to have gone for the finance route he took. I could barely swim in a large corporate structure. My personality just never exuded that pep, and vigor so prevalent in the corporate office structure.
For the most part things have improved with moments like these, certain triggers have persisted as day ruiners for me. I think this one was especially bad as just this weekend, I was rather self affirmed and proud as I checked in on my finances. So to have those delayed postings show up Monday morning put a damper on an already, albeit literally, damp morning in Minneapolis, Minnesota.