Step one: Look for work online.
Step two: Apply for job.
Step three: Write cover letter.
(As you write your cover letter, reflect on your previous work experience and the past 10 years of your life since you’ve moved to this city. Don’t forget to compare yourself to others: friends, family, younger work mates, etc. )
Holy hell…how is that I have not made ANY progress in my life? Clearly I am not a very ambitious person and I don’t think very highly of myself.
What’s a better way to say on your cover letter:
“My bosses think I’m nice, my co-workers enjoy working with me, and overall I try to do a really good job and not waste your time. I also stay late. As you can see, I’m not very ambitious. I spend a lot of time daydreaming about doing something really important but lack that psychic energy to back it up. So, instead, I focus too much energy on being liked at work and doing a good job. I think you should hire me because I will say “yes” to you. That’s what you really want, isn’t it?”
I find it weird, a bit amusing, and slightly unnerving that I’ve tried getting in touch with professional help and I’m still empty-handed.
Twice now, I’ve emailed two different psychologists and followed up with a phone call. Neither of them called me back.
Do you really think that in both cases, both psychs did not receive my emails AND phone calls? I find that hard to believe.
I wonder if I come off as too crazy to help? Don’t you find it strange though? I mean, what are the chances?
A big step in treating depression and anxiety is realizing that you need professional help. Don’t suffer alone. Get professional help. You see that on bus shelters and in newspaper ads all the time.
So, I decide that I can’t do it on my own and I’m reaching out and no one is getting in touch. Not even a phone call saying I can refer you to someone else!
To be honest, this is the first time this has happened and I don’t believe it’s indicative of the entire profession. In the past, I’ve called and met with different therapists. Alas, when I really need someone now, I can’t seem to find that help.
It takes effort to reach out.
Maybe this week, I’ll try again. Surely, there is someone out there that can help me manage this.
I’m still here, in case anyone is wondering.
Just getting through the day(s).
If I could hang on for another 6 weeks, I might be able to make some more positive changes. Like exercising, for example.
The anxiety monster visited last week. I could feel its presence coming into the room, before it quickly took over my body and mind. As I was getting ready for bed, I felt it slowly creep up my legs, tighten around my arms and finally suppress rational thinking. It held me hostage until the morning. Fortunately, after my shower, I felt it release its grip and retreat a bit. I made it to work.
God, I’m so tired.
It’s difficult to make plans, to feel positive, in this state. It’s difficult to see a future. Very depressing.
I can’t move forward when I’m in this state which I find incredibly frustrating.
So, I’ve done some stuff lately. Marked some things off my to-do list.
Painting, cleaning, putting together IKEA furniture.
Biking, running, swimming.
Yeah, it feels good.
And, I guess I feel kind of proud of myself.
It feels good to be moving, doing, accomplishing. I think that’s what the doctor ordered.
But, there is still this hollow feeling that goes right through me. Like my soul is a pilot light and it’s flickering in a cold dark room. You meet people with all burners on high – loving, being excited, laughing, trying, giving up, forgiving, failing, being sad, falling down, getting up, learning, divulging, sharing – I find it amazing.
And, no matter how good I temporarily feel from doing and accomplishing – I still don’t feel connected, connected to others. I see the love, I just can’t feel it.
This post is half-baked. Pfft!
You can only go up if you’ve been down.
I know I’ve been feeling low these past few weeks, spending hours in front of the TV addicted to Rescue Me. My diet has been poor, I’ve been drinking more and I haven’t exercised much. The weather has been pretty crappy too.
However, despite filling my body with junk, I haven’t had a migraine. Miracles of miracles. I think it has everything to do with reducing how much coffee I drink. I went from 3 cups to just one cup, first thing in the morning. Just a small change has made a huge impact on my health.
I also know that small changes can help me get out of this funk, or at least make me feel a little less ashamed of myself. This morning I felt really compelled to sit in front of the computer and do shit. I also wanted to get out and do some errands but I also have a massage at 3. As I looked at my huge pile of dirty dishes, I knew that I would feel better if I did my dishes now because I certainly wouldn’t feel like doing them once I got home – all relaxed and oily and all. 🙂
Future pleasure (me coming home to a clean kitchen) trumped immediate pleasure (sitting in front of the computer).
I must be on an upward trend.
Now, I have to get going. I’ve got some things to do.
I am grateful for so much.
For a safe childhood, full of abundance and safety; parents, a brother and extended family that love me dearly; friends that care for me and seem to enjoy my company; clean air and water; an abundant food supply; religious and political freedom; a job with people that I like and employers that seem to value my work (still don’t know why though… I’m such a fuck-up but I’m sure that’s another post)…
and… so many options and choices and opportunities for career, travel and life.
I live in a beautiful, safe city.
I’m reminded everyday of what I have when I’m on my way to work and I see all the people that are homeless, friendless, dealing with addictions and disabilities.
Trust me, I feel grateful.
All this… and I still feel dead inside.
My big source of pride is doing the dishes before I go to bed. This is after 3 hours of straight TV watching.
I’m just going through the motions. Trying to keep going until I’m allowed to take my last breath, in peace and guilt-free.
But I still feel grateful, truly, truly, truly.
… so fucked up?
There’s Sarah Burke, an amazingly driven woman, determined and talented and so full of life. In love with and loved by a good guy. Dead.
Cathy, mother of 2 beautiful children, wife to an amazing man, is in the first year of being diagnosed with ALS. She will slowly wither and die while the people she loves and is loved by, watch.
There are so many others like them.
They are the ones, their friends and family as well, who will say that life is short. Go out and live it fully! And many other life-affirming things, no doubt all ending with exclamation marks!
For me, life is not short enough. Quite frankly, I find it long. I’m 40. In all likelihood, I’m going to live until I’m 80+.
My dad is over 80 and in pretty decent shape – physically, mentally, emotionally.
The days are long, the weekends long, the years long.
The good news is that I’m much more accepting of my “fate”, if that’s what you want to call it. I’m less angry, less frustrated than a few years ago. Less rage, thank god! (There’s my exclamation mark.)
However, at the end of the day, it’s me lacking that spark. Despite all the good things in my life, I’m just missing the drive.
I’m quite content sitting at home on a day off, watching online TV. Not calling anyone, not doing anything in the mountains, creating a new business, shopping for the most fabulous outfit – being out to be seen.
No. If I had to be honest with myself, as I look through your fabulous FB photos, I’m quite comfortable at home, by myself, in front of the computer.
I wouldn’t have it other way.
There are bracelets to be made, posts to be written, hills to skis, roads to bike, kids to play with, cookies to be decorated, (clothes to be put away, dishes to be done); I want to want to do these things.
I have all the time, support and health in the world.
I have everything.
But desire. Passion. Fire.
The inner psychic drive that fuels people to live, to hope, to dream, to strive for, to love, to procreate.
I think it was there at one point.
I don’t know what the DSM would call today.
It’s like I couldn’t think, couldn’t understand. My mind was sluggish and unable to make vital connections that lead to verbal comprehension. I saw the letters, I saw the words but I couldn’t form the meanings in my head.
I don’t have ADHD apparently. I’m not developmentally disabled. But clearly my working memory, problem-solving skills and verbal comprehension are well below others.
My boss could not have been more clear. Why didn’t I get it?
The crazy shitty thoughts come back… you suck, you’re a loser, you’re never going to succeed…
They’re so loud, so real, it’s like another entity (not human, more like gremlin, monster-like) has taken over my brain and my body. It’s been a while, and now they’re back. It seems I’ve rolled out the welcome mat.
I had too much sugar last night, and this morning I felt like shit, like I was hungover. I felt sad, moody and I wanted to leave the office by 8:30am.
So, was I really depressed or was it just a chemical reaction?