anxiety

Looking for a Job When You’re Depressed: Circumstantial, not Existential

No Help WantedLooking for a job when you’re in the midst of a depression is really fucking hard. I think that’s step number one – acknowledge that what you’re doing is really really hard. It’d be hard for someone who’s healthy. And it’s especially hard for those of us who are not.

I’m currently in this position, having been told by my current employer that my contract won’t be renewed past January. Luckily for me, I’m not suffering from a major depressive episode, just trying to recover from one.

The thing is that I don’t have a lot of hope. Despite my fancy education and respectable resume, I don’t believe that any job could be fulfilling or rewarding or anything but awful, so the tasks of applying become almost impossible. I am FILLED with dread.

Then of course there’s the feeling of being overwhelmed. I am directionless because I find myself believing that every option is bad, so I’m unable to narrow things down. I also find it difficult, like many people looking for work, to convince myself that the next job won’t be forever. That it’s not one of the biggest decisions of my life. So it’s overwhelming both in breadth and in depth.

In a word: it sucks.

This is too complex a problem for a “Five Step Guide.” One has to do some soul searching and take each day as it comes. One has to build a schedule and stick to it. A schedule that includes off time, when you’re not thinking about the job search. A schedule that includes exercise and whatever other therapies work for you. I believe that one has to try to think ambitiously about what one is qualified for, and then do the hard work of reaching out to people. One must try not to think too far in the future or let themselves believe that they know what it holds.

The fish is deadI am trying to be honest with my support network, which is difficult because they see more potential in me than I see in myself. I often feel like their advice is ludicrous: they tell me all the cool things I can do with my fish, not understanding that the fish are dead. So I am trying to fake it until I make it.

I’m trying not to “catastrophize” things. I am trying to remember that my job does not define me, that it is not the source of my happiness. I am trying to be patient and flexible. I am trying to think of this problem as circumstantial, not existential.

Anyone out there got a job they wanna give me? 🙂

First photo by BillsoPHOTO on Flickr.

Second photo by Bhope34 on Flickr.

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Mindfulness #5: Creating a Team When You’re Depressed

Our Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction class has come to an end. There were tears and hugs when we said goodbye.

Nine weeks ago we looked at each other with minds that were wary, scared, curious, self-conscious. Today we are Sangha for each other, and we will miss each other. And we will miss our teacher. Today many of us are scared to be without each other. I’m scared.

I wonder whether I’ll keep up my meditation practice, or whether it will wither on the vine. I wonder whether I’ll grow to loathe it – that thing I’m not doing for myself that I know I should do. I wonder whether I’ll keep the progress I’ve made or slide back. I wonder whether I’ll keep progressing.

I wonder whether “it’s worked,” whether I’ve avoided another major episode of depression. And I know the answer isn’t written. Doesn’t exist. I wonder whether I’ll wither again.

“Find yourself a Sangha,” our teacher told us. Find yourself a group to practice with. You need a group. You need a team.

Find yourself a Sangha.

Mindfulness #4: Six Weeks In

Grandpa 1I’m six weeks into a Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction course. It involves two and a half hours of training every Saturday morning, an hour of meditation every day, and a day-long silent retreat. I’m doing this to feel better, to avoid another relapse into deep depression.

The phenomenally good news is that I think it works. The bad news is that it requires constant upkeep.

I’ve become slower. I no longer rush through my days. Even on my way to work, I take time to enjoy the feeling of my feet on the pavement. (Also apparently there’s something to enjoy about feet and pavement.)

Grandpa 3I’ve become calmer. I watch bad (and good) thoughts go by, recognizing their impermanence, their fluidity. I don’t follow them as often, reacting to them as if they were true.

I worry less. I panic less. I’m closer to the source of my happiness being inside me.

Instead of dwelling on the things I’ve lost, it’s easier for me to rejoice in what is left. My grandmother died five years ago yesterday. I loved her fiercely and miss her every day. Therapy and meditation have helped me to mourn her loss a little less. Instead I rejoice in the fact that my grandfather is still with us – singing “I love you, yeah, yeah, yeah…” to my little dog Bebop.

I love you, yeah, yeah, yeah!

Grandpa 2

First photo by jencu on Flickr.

Second photo by Richard BH on Flickr.

Third photo by Alyssa L. Miller on Flickr.

Mindfulness #2: A Crappy Day Gets a Second Chance

A New Chance

A New Chance

The other day I woke up in a bad mood. You know the feeling. Bad dreams, groggy, a sense of loathing of the day to come. Shower? Oof. Walk the dog? Eugh. Fuck.

I was sitting on my back porch having a cigarette and feeling shitty about the fact that it looked like today was going to be a bad day. I was especially disappointed because the day before had been pretty good, and I was sad my streak was over.

Here is the moment.

Here is the moment when I felt my mindfulness training start to work.

I thought, “I feel pretty shitty right now. I feel like this is going to last the whole day. I’m mourning a day I haven’t had yet, but the day doesn’t have to go that way. My thoughts and fears about how my day will turn out are not necessarily true – they’re just thoughts and fears. I can, just as we do during meditation, start over. I can let these thoughts and fears pass. Notice them, note them, and let them pass. I can start over. I can have this moment, unburdened by the nightmares that are in the past, and unburdened by the workday that is in the future.”You Are Here

I thought about my body – a little tight from sleep, maybe, but not in pain. I thought about my dog on my lap. Adorable. I thought about the dawn that was happening around me and that didn’t seem to upset me.

I can’t explain it, but it worked. My day became very similar to the good day I’d had the day before. I was able to shower and walk my dog without dragging myself. I was able to get to work just fine, even a little proud. I was able to move through my day without the sense of loathing that was leftover from my nightmares, without the anticipatory dread about trouble that hadn’t arrived yet. – That? That is a BIG deal for a depressive.

I got a glimpse of what it’s like to give each moment a chance, to accept and let go.

And I’m really grateful for it.

Also grateful for: Bebop

Also grateful for: Bebop

First photo by Steven Christenson on Flickr.

I found the second image in a great blog called A Beautiful Revolution. You can find it here.

I took the third picture of my dog, hamming it up.

Can I Just Say? #8: Early Waking

Early WakingWhat is one supposed to DO at 4:30 in the morning? The roommates are asleep, the dog wants none of it, and nothing’s open. It’s too early to pass the time. It’s too late to take a Tylenol PM.

Early waking is a common and little talked about symptom of depression. My most prolific period with this blog was a pleasant side effect of a bout of it – but most of the time it’s a huge hassle.

You’re bored. You’re tired. You’re by yourself.

So I’m looking for suggestions. Ways to pass the time when you’re depressed and you’ve got five hours until work starts. Books? TV shows? YouTube Channels? All welcome here. How do you pass the time?

Leave your suggestions in the comments below or email me at depressionwhoneedsit@gmail.com. Thanks!

Photo by Connie Liegl on Flickr.