Strange times indeed, eh?
When this shutting in/physical distancing/isolation set in, I was still working. To be honest, I was almost resenting the new ‘time’ other people had to stay at home because I was thinking that this would be a novel (pun intended) time to be able to write.
No. I’m not one of those who can afford to stay home, and being forced to would definitely fuck me financially – but it wasn’t like I wasn’t already in that position. I left a job last September under surprising and depressing circumstances. The job I’d been most previously working was the job-I-took-to-still-be-working, the first job I was offered within three days of not working, the job I had to take to bring at least some income in while I looked for a job I could live (or at least survive ) off of – and all that means is that I took an easy, local, and low-paying job.
The circumstances under leaving the previous job were depressing enough, and I’d already admitted to being depressed, anyway. But this newer job made it all even worse. The job market isn’t (or wasn’t) what everyone said it was, unless they were talking about only the jobs that most people would be taking at the beginning of their working careers or as side jobs to supplement incomes. The ‘newer’ way of finding jobs online is time-consuming – the application processes alone could take weeks, and potential employers could take their time in responding. It took me four months between my initial application and the official rejection for one job (which included having to fill out the application, a later essay, two separate-and-weeks-apart questionnaires, a phone interview (with a recording), and a final full-day ‘presentation’ interview with over 100 other candidates (no parking on the facility) and sit-down ‘interview’ at a table with 4 other applicants) – and that was just one of the many I’ve applied for. With that type of ‘job market’ most of us could become homeless if we did not work while we were looking for a job.
That resentment I mentioned earlier stemmed from my reaching that point where I had to choose which need was more dire to me: time or money. If I was in a job that didn’t help me financially anway but took all of my time, why not be allowed more time if my finances would basically be the same? With more time, I could be more productive; I could spend more time looking for another job and have time to write – both of which could potentially better affect my financial situation.
And then I got the time, when I was let go. Okay, I was fired. That was actually hilarious to me for so many reasons, not the least of which was that I’m a 52-year-old single, female parent who knows how not to get fired – we will put up with a lot of bullshit at a job just to keep a job because of our responsibilities.
My former boss did me a favor, though. He gave me that time I wanted.
And I took it. My first two weeks at home were so productive I should have been wearing a cape – I was that productive.
And then I hit a wall. The elation I felt at getting out of that job situation could be compared to a caffeine or sugar high – there is a crash when it’s over. My relief at being out of that stressed environment was short-lived, because it was only one of my problems – just the one that was affecting me most directly at the time.
I’ve said it before: needs, priorities, wants, and goals are the same things; the only differences are in their level of importance. That is why you are told you have to ‘want it enough’ when you are looking to achieve something. That is also why necessity became the mother of invention.
But the bottom line of any achievement is that none of us rest on our laurels afterwards; we either look for another goal or find another fire to put out.
The world situation, the pandemic, and the isolation enforced has changed the job market again – or is changing it, making a job search rather … off? unpredictable? … futile? Unless you got one of the enviable jobs working from home, would you want to get a job being out in the general public when we are being told globally that physical distancing is what is needed right now? Would you trust an employer who made that choice, who determined who is ‘essential’ based on the needs of his or her company – even if you understood his or her own level of need?
When you are depressed, you need a goal or something to look forward to. The uncertainty of what the future holds has been exacerbated because, right now, everyone is flying blind. The time that I was excited to have to be able to look for a job and write more was now filled with … nothing. I was having trouble being motivated to do anything – which added to more of depression’s self-loathing.
I decided to coddle myself a bit. To ‘suggest’ to myself to accomplish one thing without force – and to make sure I didn’t beat myself up if I didn’t. To pat myself on the back for what I did do – even if it was just getting out of bed. Two days into that I had to justify my own treatment of myself with myself – because I was not brought up that way: you DID WHAT YOU HAD TO DO. Suck it up, cupcake.
While depression is common, acceptance of it isn’t. Here I was, dealing with the most severe level of it in my life and I was finding myself to be just as judgmental and punishing as those I’ve said didn’t accept it.
The better side of me won the argument after another two days. I’m human, and I am not accepting myself to be less of anything by admitting I have a problem.
I went back to my coddling of myself – and then I changed the word ‘coddling’ to ‘supporting’ when I realized that that word choice showed my lower opinion of myself early on.
I didn’t move mountains, but I started doing more and being able to do more. One day, I was putzing around doing little things in the house, and all of a sudden I was motivated to finish something – it just sort of happend organically. I was so pleased I almost took a nap!
Since then, it’s been the baby steps, the one day at a time. The continuously reminding myself that even if the future is uncertain, I still have the right now.
Today is Sunday. For some reason, Sunday mornings became my favorite writing time – which was always funny to me because I usually worked weekends. I had no intention of writing today (I’m still working on my intentions), but because of my recent breakthrough I was able to ‘suggest’ to myself that I sit down and write, since it ‘is Sunday, after all’.
And here I am. (Yay, me!) Even if this wasn’t a Pulitzer prize-winning piece, it was still something I wrote. And I discovered (in my ‘support’ of myself) that what had been an annoying trait of getting off-topic while I write is instead the gentle tapping on my shoulder of the muses with suggestions of other topics to write about (Inspiration).
I used to tell my drill-instructor father that raising kids is not about breaking them down, but encouraging them. As much as I knew that, I apparently didn’t know that in practical terms. It seems that I am learning another lesson in practicing what I’ve preached.
I began writing again, I accepted something about my writing habits, and I learned something.
That’s three things I did today.
Yay, Me!
A Life In and Of Writing 