Freedom

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So, an interesting thing happened last week. My parents cancelled my debt. All of it. That great, lurking, ever-growing monster is dead.

I'm thrilled, through and through. Also bewildered. It's a shock to the system. For me and my complex value system, being in debt was worse than being unpublished (which puts it in harsh perspective). Being out of debt changes everything. What is the purpose of earning money now my debt is gone? What will my parents do when the thrill wears off and they see me unhappy again? Will I get sane now I don't have as much financial pressure weighing me down?

The things it definitely means:

1. I won't be carrying a debt into a marriage.

2. I don't need to enact my original wedding plan (I knew I'd get to keep the change from my parents' budget, so my plan was to convince my mum I was thrilled with whatever the cheapest options were for everything - so I could pay off as much debt as possible).

3. I don't feel wrong any more.

4. My life is difficult (waiting on publication, sanity, and marriage), but okay.

5. I need to buy mum and dad the most amazing christmas present ever (luckily I have a plan).

6. I have to act REALLY happy for at least a month. (Hence the blogly angst. Any lottery winner can tell you that money is only one section of a fulfilling life. But who wants to hear about the issues of the whining rich?)

Already I'm stressing over other things. There's a chance I'll have to put off my wedding with Tim (not that we're officially engaged. . .) for another three months. Given that I've already moved house twice JUST TO DISTRACT MYSELF FROM THE WAITING, that would be. . . unpleasant. The alternative is annoying both his mum and grandma (who are not easily annoyed, but the grandma is going to England next year to visit her bereaved sister. . . hence, complexity).

I guess that's a pretty big issue, because it would be immensely stupid to have the wedding without her. I LIKE her, and she's very close to Tim. Stupid elderly bereaved sisters. Why can't they just be more convenient?

My other panic of the day is that I have a visitor over tonight, who's bringing dinner (I can't afford to make her dinner myself, because I'm waiting - as usual - for my boss to pay me for all the work I've been doing), and I'm running short on drinking water. Awkward. Luckily she's bringing drinks, so I guess it's okay. As soon as I'm paid, I will have savings again, and money to spare - and won't have to be as much of a scab. At least, not AS much of a scab. (I'll still be living on an unreliable income within $100 of the poverty line.)

And thirdly, I miss my writing. I've been working almost 15 hours a week and (yes I know how little that is) it's left me with a permanent bad mood (sorry Tim), and lack of ability to focus on writing. I love my work, and it's very meaningful - but it doesn't form the core of my sense of self and of meaning. Writing does. So not spending my usual 20 hours a week on novels is messing with my head.

But the debt was definitely my biggest problem. And Tim and I have agreed on a wedding date (I was holding off until we're engaged, but grandma schedule issues have changed things), which is also a weight off my mind (at least, it will be once I know if the grandma will prioritise our wedding over another 3 weeks with her sister. It's not an easy call to make). As soon as the grandma flight is booked, I will be able to arrange wedding-y stuff. Fun! And it starts to look like it will actually happen (I've been in three marriage-inclined relationships, so I'm somewhat antsy even without being a nutcase).

Today someone asked me if I wanted to get better from my anxiety. The truth is, no. I've spent the last four years figuring out what was wrong with me, making expensive mistakes, and finally learning what I can and can't do. If I got well, everything would change and I'd start making all those expensive mistakes again. The thought is sickening. Plus, if I was well enough to work more, I'd have even less time for writing. Which would be bad. I've mentioned before how being crazy is the best thing (as well as the worst thing) that's ever happened to me.

On the other hand, once I have savings it'd probably be okay. If I could just cram all my work into three days of the week (so I can write three days and have one day to be human), and accept that I need to be a total scab a bit longer, it could work.

It means Tim would be paying for me to write (unless writing actually starts paying sometime soon, which isn't likely given that all my books are mid-draft at present - since I haven't had the mental space to finish them). But he's specifically said that's okay with him, so perhaps it really is.

Fel