Unless a miracle occurs in the next 48 hours, I’m going to be on disability or unemployed next week. The new regime at work requires my position to be 9-5 in an office and I’m not physically capable of that currently. After five years I have a near-instant ultimatum to do the Dilbert or leave.
The prognosis for my neurofeedback treatment is that I should be in the period now where improvement occurs, but that’s roughly a two-month period according to my practitioner. That’s not an acceptable timeframe for my bosses. So, depending on bureaucracy and things I don’t understand well enough to predict, I’ll either go on temporary disabiliity and re-evaluate at some point for possible full employment, or just lose my job.
Either way my income is about to dive. I have debt and I’m bad with money, and all the therapeutic interventions require cash too. I’m also bad at filing claims, with the result that I’m way behind in getting reimbursed for things. And anything that might speed recovery requires yet more cash.
This has left me in the unfortunate position of being that middle-aged geek who has to ask his family for an allowance. I don’t enjoy the stereotype, but it beats actual poverty. I shall try to feel lucky about that part and rise above the shame.