My last 2 weeks have been a bit rough:
first there was an insurance issue I am still dealing with because my employer failed to submit relevant information on time. Payment will be effective only after employer submits correct information.
Then my employer claimed that someone had seen me using my cell phone while at work (theoretically, that’s not allowed, but everyone checks the time now and then, and normally it doesn’t affect the quality of the work). They claimed this happened eight weeks ago. I simply replied that I couldn’t remember anything like that.
This week I received a ticket from the transportation authority, where they claim I boarded a ship without a valid ticket, something I am appealing. I’ve never done this before but my friends are helping me. It’s not so much about the amount as it is about the feeling of being trampled on. I even showed the employee a copy of my ticket I had on my phone with my whole name, address and price I paid, but he ignored it. I already sent my side of the story to the authority and I’m waiting for an answer.
The thought of being forced to pay for a ticket I paid and showed as a copy of weighs heavily on me. I know I shouldn’t give it more importance that it deserves, but they way that employee treated me, the employee ignoring me, my explanations and the copy I had on my phone gives me an eerie feeling of injustice, that something is broken. I’ve been using that boat for 5 years and never had such an issue before.
If you are more resilient than me, how? I feel lost and as much as I’d like to forget about it I flash back to it, I cannot concentrate and I’m not sleeping very well.
I’d like to be stronger but I’m not.
I once wrote a comic where one of the characters was my own anxiety.
The artwork was a skeleton, and the joke was he NEVER shut up. He would always fill the whole speech bubble, and then the whole panel. He would rant and rant until he crowded out everyone and everything else - and the other characters would have to literally talk OVER him.
The rub was - in order to write him, I had to ask myself what made me anxious. There was never enough to fill a whole panel. Ultimately, our anxiety is so small in scope its maybe enough for just a sentence…
By externalizing him, I gave him a format. By interviewing him, I gave him a voice. By making a joke out of him, I neutered him. And by serializing him, I made this process into a practice.
After practicing it - Axiety can no longer sneek up on me; he can no longer take over the conversation or steer my actions.
Anxiety becomes just a voice.
Just a voice, one that wants to keep the rest of me safe. And when he won’t shut up - I draw up a new cartoon, and marvel at how loud the fucker can be when he ultimately has so little to say.