Wow! I think I’ve overdone it. With workshops, plans, and this and that, I’ve managed to bring my system to a halt. I feel like doing nothing, and that’s not good. Usually, depression follows that.
At least I haven’t forsaken daily exercise. Good thing, because it is my lifeline, my one survival tool.
I will push myself a little today, though. I have the feeling that an unfinished task may be causing me to drag my feet. If after that I still feel I need a break, I’ll take it.
Or maybe it’s physical. Last night I went to bed at 9 pm. I had a half-decent night’s sleep, and when my alarm clock went off at 8:30 am, I wanted to sleep more. That isn’t normal.
Here’s is hoping that I’ll feel better later.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
Sick but still working on back-to-the-workforce plan
So I am sick again. I’ve been sick since Wednesday, and I can’t help but remember that the last time I was ill, it was in October, when I was about to start my job search. Then the illness set me back, and I put the job search on the back burner for a while.
Why do I get sick every time I start looking for work? I don’t know, but I have a few theories.
This week, I took a job interview questions class and an interpersonal relationships class. Next week I’ll take assertiveness. Interestingly enough, some of those courses are at 9 am, and are sparingly attended. In fact, one of my classes was a one-on-one. I felt so lucky. I sat there with the employment counsellor for two hours, and we discussed the most difficult issues I tend to have with people, and we devised some strategies to address my concerns. I would’ve had to pay over $200 to get that type of service.
So the work is going. Let’s hope that I’ll get a job in May.
Why do I get sick every time I start looking for work? I don’t know, but I have a few theories.
- When I get busy, I start eating all the wrong foods, and the food intolerances make my ongoing issues flare up.
- It is possible that subconsciously my body sees “work” as a threat to the status quo and that all kinds of stress-related hormones are released, burdening my immune system.
- My immune system is no longer used to the common viruses that hang out there, since I rarely get out and meet people. So I’m an easy target.
This week, I took a job interview questions class and an interpersonal relationships class. Next week I’ll take assertiveness. Interestingly enough, some of those courses are at 9 am, and are sparingly attended. In fact, one of my classes was a one-on-one. I felt so lucky. I sat there with the employment counsellor for two hours, and we discussed the most difficult issues I tend to have with people, and we devised some strategies to address my concerns. I would’ve had to pay over $200 to get that type of service.
So the work is going. Let’s hope that I’ll get a job in May.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Back to the workforce process
I told the employment counsellor, on Friday, that I want a job easy to do that will keep me constantly busy.
I explained that even though I have the brain for computer programming, that the profession isn’t suitable for a person like me who tends to depression. Certain software features are so difficult to create or troubleshoot, that it takes from hours to days to find a solution. In the meantime, you sit there staring at the screen trying to stimulate your brain to come up with a solution. I find that excruciating. I always find a solution, but I’d rather do something which provides smaller, more frequent rewards.
The other issue with me is stress. My former profession was highly stressful. I not only had to write extremely complex code, but I had to deal with users, co-workers, bosses, and project managers, while trying to deliver on tight deadliness. I have PTSD from all that, and even though I loved the paycheque, the traveling, and the staying at four star hotels, my body can’t handle it.
If I’m going to go from doing not much for the last few years, I don’t want to go back to a high stress job where I have to constantly prove myself. So I told the employment counsellor that I wanted to find a job in office administration. She said my goal was realistic and that we would work toward it.
I am so happy I landed at that agency by mistake. I was telling my husband that I always knew deep down inside that I was different, and that I needed specialized help. I reminded him that when people in church urged me to do things a certain way, I would usually say, “People can’t see my invisible wheelchair. I can’t do what they do or behave like they do.”
I finally found a place where my “invisible wheelchair” is being acknowledged, and I couldn’t be happier. How is this different from being aided by an agency for “normal people?”
Normal people are encouraged to live up to their potential, to seek high paying jobs, to climb the corporate ladder. That doesn’t appeal to me. For me just functioning and getting along with co-workers at any job will be an improvement over my previous workplace experiences.
So this week, I’ll attend a number or workshops, the firs of them will be resume making. The challenge for the worker will be to downgrade my resume, to make by high-tech jobs blend in or disappear. But thankfully, since the person has been trained on working with people like yours truly, she may have an idea or two on how to tweak my work experience. I can always hope!
The caseworker was saying that employment at a non-profit would be a good fit for me, because I can offer so much, other than just filling, typing, and answering phones. How I go about the job search will be dealt with in the first week of May, when I meet the placement worker.
In the meantime, I will be taking other workshops, like stress management, dealing with difficult people, and first-day-at-work instruction.
Wish me luck!
I explained that even though I have the brain for computer programming, that the profession isn’t suitable for a person like me who tends to depression. Certain software features are so difficult to create or troubleshoot, that it takes from hours to days to find a solution. In the meantime, you sit there staring at the screen trying to stimulate your brain to come up with a solution. I find that excruciating. I always find a solution, but I’d rather do something which provides smaller, more frequent rewards.
The other issue with me is stress. My former profession was highly stressful. I not only had to write extremely complex code, but I had to deal with users, co-workers, bosses, and project managers, while trying to deliver on tight deadliness. I have PTSD from all that, and even though I loved the paycheque, the traveling, and the staying at four star hotels, my body can’t handle it.
If I’m going to go from doing not much for the last few years, I don’t want to go back to a high stress job where I have to constantly prove myself. So I told the employment counsellor that I wanted to find a job in office administration. She said my goal was realistic and that we would work toward it.
I am so happy I landed at that agency by mistake. I was telling my husband that I always knew deep down inside that I was different, and that I needed specialized help. I reminded him that when people in church urged me to do things a certain way, I would usually say, “People can’t see my invisible wheelchair. I can’t do what they do or behave like they do.”
I finally found a place where my “invisible wheelchair” is being acknowledged, and I couldn’t be happier. How is this different from being aided by an agency for “normal people?”
Normal people are encouraged to live up to their potential, to seek high paying jobs, to climb the corporate ladder. That doesn’t appeal to me. For me just functioning and getting along with co-workers at any job will be an improvement over my previous workplace experiences.
So this week, I’ll attend a number or workshops, the firs of them will be resume making. The challenge for the worker will be to downgrade my resume, to make by high-tech jobs blend in or disappear. But thankfully, since the person has been trained on working with people like yours truly, she may have an idea or two on how to tweak my work experience. I can always hope!
The caseworker was saying that employment at a non-profit would be a good fit for me, because I can offer so much, other than just filling, typing, and answering phones. How I go about the job search will be dealt with in the first week of May, when I meet the placement worker.
In the meantime, I will be taking other workshops, like stress management, dealing with difficult people, and first-day-at-work instruction.
Wish me luck!
Thursday, April 15, 2010
What is it that I need?
I often wonder why, when people try to comfort me, they rarely achieve their purpose. The reality is that, even though everybody means well, the way they try to soothe my pain is usually not the way to go with me.
Let me explain. Most women like to offer sympathy in the way of a hug, which is fine. I don’t hate hugs. Guys, on the other hand, like to help me find a solution, which is fine. Ideas are always welcomed.
I do appreciate the effort pals and gals put into trying to help. But although it isn’t a contest, some people come out as winners when it comes to cheering me up. I think I’ve figured out what it is that they do right.
I like it when friends get me. Why is that so hard to find? I don’t know. But it is. Most friends dish out the unsolicited advice, or tell you exactly what they think you should do, or just hug you and walk away.
But when they make the effort to get inside my head and figure out what I’m thinking and why, that makes me want to break out in song. Then I go, “Yes, yes,” like Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally.
I truly believe that most of us want to be understood. We don’t need to be given instructions or to be pitied. We need to be understood. At least I do.
If people don’t get me, that’s OK. I have a hard time with that one myself. But if friends would at least ask questions to help me figure out my conundrums, or just tell me something wise to make me think in the right direction, I’ll find that more helpful than a hug. Maybe hugs is what other women want, but that isn’t the case with this tomboy.
Anyway, this post is about me understanding me. If anybody ever asks how they can comfort me, I will know exactly what to say.
Let me explain. Most women like to offer sympathy in the way of a hug, which is fine. I don’t hate hugs. Guys, on the other hand, like to help me find a solution, which is fine. Ideas are always welcomed.
I do appreciate the effort pals and gals put into trying to help. But although it isn’t a contest, some people come out as winners when it comes to cheering me up. I think I’ve figured out what it is that they do right.
I like it when friends get me. Why is that so hard to find? I don’t know. But it is. Most friends dish out the unsolicited advice, or tell you exactly what they think you should do, or just hug you and walk away.
But when they make the effort to get inside my head and figure out what I’m thinking and why, that makes me want to break out in song. Then I go, “Yes, yes,” like Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally.
I truly believe that most of us want to be understood. We don’t need to be given instructions or to be pitied. We need to be understood. At least I do.
If people don’t get me, that’s OK. I have a hard time with that one myself. But if friends would at least ask questions to help me figure out my conundrums, or just tell me something wise to make me think in the right direction, I’ll find that more helpful than a hug. Maybe hugs is what other women want, but that isn’t the case with this tomboy.
Anyway, this post is about me understanding me. If anybody ever asks how they can comfort me, I will know exactly what to say.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Depression, Menopause & Career
I was just talking to my husband about the depression that has haunted me my entire life. Until recently, I ignored my lifelong affliction. But I can tell looking back that it has always been an issue.
For a while I called it ADD, because I used to stop mid-step and become immobilized while thinking of some memory. I was so unaware of it, that I rarely mentioned it to a doctor or to a psychologist.
But in recent days, I’ve become convinced that it was pure, unadulterated depression. It may sound “funny,” but in that regard I may be doing better than ever. My enjoyment of life and my ability to be in-the-moment have increased dramatically.
I was telling him that I NEED TO WORK for more than just financial reasons. It is mostly due to health issues, both depression and menopause (which is causing me to gain more weight).
If it isn’t, it should be common knowledge by now that serotonin plays a major role in depression. But serotonin can be produced by our bodies, and exercise is a great way to get it incredibly fast.
It is no wonder that when we travel and walk about 10 kilometres a day I am so balanced and reasonably happy. It is the business, the doing, the movement that helps my mood, by producing the hormones my body needs.
Sitting around the house hardly ever going anywhere is not conducive to a good mood for a person in my situation. So, I was telling my husband that, first of all, I need a job, any job. Second, if possible, I need a job that will keep me moving. Walking around all day would be ideal. It would help me lose weight and it would help me maintain my mood. It would be a drug of sorts.
But it so happens that I have 6 years of post-secondary education in Computers and about 15 years of work experience in the field. Computer geek is written all over my face, and other than three years of experience working in an office doing secretarial work, I have nothing else in my bag of tricks.
My husband says that I should still try to find a job in the computer/office field. I can, he says, then hire a personal trainer that will keep me active, moving, and hire a cleaning person to do the work around the house.
For some reason I don’t find that too appealing, even though that may be what I end up doing. I am thinking that, perhaps, working as a tour guide or in a bakery or even retail would accomplish both, the exercise and the getting me out there, while making me a couple of bucks.
I don’t know if the employment counsellor, with whom I have an appointment this week, will have any ideas in that regard. But given my track record with employment counsellors who haven’t understood me, I feel compelled to lower my expectations, to give the relationship a change to succeed.
I’m also thinking that a part-time job would be ideal. Perhaps easing back into the workforce would be best. Especially, if I get a job that requires walking, since I would be tired at the beginning, another good thing, since I have trouble sleeping (like all other menopausal women).
Anyway, I must admit that trying to choose my next “career” is haunting me of late. It just occurred to me, thought, that whatever I choose does not have to be permanent. It seems that I’m treating the choice as the ultimate live-or-die decision, which it isn’t. I will have to mull over this, to see what I can do to lower the pressure. I’m sure dealing with this issue will make me feel a lot better.
For a while I called it ADD, because I used to stop mid-step and become immobilized while thinking of some memory. I was so unaware of it, that I rarely mentioned it to a doctor or to a psychologist.
But in recent days, I’ve become convinced that it was pure, unadulterated depression. It may sound “funny,” but in that regard I may be doing better than ever. My enjoyment of life and my ability to be in-the-moment have increased dramatically.
I was telling him that I NEED TO WORK for more than just financial reasons. It is mostly due to health issues, both depression and menopause (which is causing me to gain more weight).
If it isn’t, it should be common knowledge by now that serotonin plays a major role in depression. But serotonin can be produced by our bodies, and exercise is a great way to get it incredibly fast.
It is no wonder that when we travel and walk about 10 kilometres a day I am so balanced and reasonably happy. It is the business, the doing, the movement that helps my mood, by producing the hormones my body needs.
Sitting around the house hardly ever going anywhere is not conducive to a good mood for a person in my situation. So, I was telling my husband that, first of all, I need a job, any job. Second, if possible, I need a job that will keep me moving. Walking around all day would be ideal. It would help me lose weight and it would help me maintain my mood. It would be a drug of sorts.
But it so happens that I have 6 years of post-secondary education in Computers and about 15 years of work experience in the field. Computer geek is written all over my face, and other than three years of experience working in an office doing secretarial work, I have nothing else in my bag of tricks.
My husband says that I should still try to find a job in the computer/office field. I can, he says, then hire a personal trainer that will keep me active, moving, and hire a cleaning person to do the work around the house.
For some reason I don’t find that too appealing, even though that may be what I end up doing. I am thinking that, perhaps, working as a tour guide or in a bakery or even retail would accomplish both, the exercise and the getting me out there, while making me a couple of bucks.
I don’t know if the employment counsellor, with whom I have an appointment this week, will have any ideas in that regard. But given my track record with employment counsellors who haven’t understood me, I feel compelled to lower my expectations, to give the relationship a change to succeed.
I’m also thinking that a part-time job would be ideal. Perhaps easing back into the workforce would be best. Especially, if I get a job that requires walking, since I would be tired at the beginning, another good thing, since I have trouble sleeping (like all other menopausal women).
Anyway, I must admit that trying to choose my next “career” is haunting me of late. It just occurred to me, thought, that whatever I choose does not have to be permanent. It seems that I’m treating the choice as the ultimate live-or-die decision, which it isn’t. I will have to mull over this, to see what I can do to lower the pressure. I’m sure dealing with this issue will make me feel a lot better.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Depressed
Have you ever been depressed for no reason at all?
I guess it happens when women have PMS. I'm going to assume that women in menopause still get a period of sorts, even if we don't get actual menses. I have the blues and no period on sight. It really sucks. I think the issues are periodical because I also have breast pain and uterine stuff, a little stronger than usual. This menopause crap feels like permanent PMS--ninety whole days of it. I wonder if the other 275 days will also be like this.
I think this is the first time ever that I feel the weight of depression, and I can tell it really isn't psychological at all. It seems to be mostly a physical symptom over which I have no power.
I have no feelings of doom or anything like that. I am not having strong negative feelings about anyone in particular. I am in need of nothing. The sun is shinning out there.
But I don't want to do anything. All I want is to lie in bed with the blinds down and forget that I exist. Basically, it feels like laziness, a lack of desire to do anything. I don't want to think of my impending job search, or of his job search, or of having to go back to the workforce, or of what to make for supper, or of the messy house, or anything. I want to do nothing.
I swear on days like this I wish I had anti-depressants around. But, if I'm still feeling like this by Monday, I am hitting the doctor's office. Enough is enough.
For now, I will force myself to clean the house a little. Seeing the house looking better may be helpful.
I guess it happens when women have PMS. I'm going to assume that women in menopause still get a period of sorts, even if we don't get actual menses. I have the blues and no period on sight. It really sucks. I think the issues are periodical because I also have breast pain and uterine stuff, a little stronger than usual. This menopause crap feels like permanent PMS--ninety whole days of it. I wonder if the other 275 days will also be like this.
I think this is the first time ever that I feel the weight of depression, and I can tell it really isn't psychological at all. It seems to be mostly a physical symptom over which I have no power.
I have no feelings of doom or anything like that. I am not having strong negative feelings about anyone in particular. I am in need of nothing. The sun is shinning out there.
But I don't want to do anything. All I want is to lie in bed with the blinds down and forget that I exist. Basically, it feels like laziness, a lack of desire to do anything. I don't want to think of my impending job search, or of his job search, or of having to go back to the workforce, or of what to make for supper, or of the messy house, or anything. I want to do nothing.
I swear on days like this I wish I had anti-depressants around. But, if I'm still feeling like this by Monday, I am hitting the doctor's office. Enough is enough.
For now, I will force myself to clean the house a little. Seeing the house looking better may be helpful.
Monday, April 5, 2010
A weekend with the in-laws
After almost three years, I visited the in-laws this past weekend. It was an exercise on learning how to deal with disagreeable situations and not taking the stuff personally.
I did really well. I was able to show compassion for my MIL’s shortcomings. By telling myself that what she did and said reflected who she was and what she saw, not me, I was able to shield myself from her. She was trying very hard to behave, mind you.
Once I took myself out of the picture and observed her for who she is, I started understanding the woman. It was amazing. It was like seeing the play by play in slow motion and seeing the workings of her mind and those parts of her behaviour that I find so annoying.
I found out that the whole time she was trying to be pleasing, agreeable, and loving. She has no idea that the final result is annoyance. I realized that she talks non-stop out of pure inadequacy, and the more she talks, the more she puts her foot in her mouth. I was able to just listen, observe, and analyze: a very interesting exercise.
What we did, most of the time, was to use preemptive measures. I brought the baking, so she didn’t have an excuse to kill herself baking for us. I cooked more than half the food, to stop her from going around complaining. But by the third day, this morning, she’d decided to take her place in the kitchen.
From the moment we woke up, she started offering food, and more food, and juice, and cookies, and water, and more cookies. When my husband and I started lining her cupboards, a project her husband had been procrastinating, she kept offering scissors, a knife, this and that, non-stop. Then I went completely silent and decided that I’d had it. It was time to go. Three days was my limit, as planned.
The problem was her hip issues. When she walks she constantly says “ouch,” every two seconds or so. But she comes to you with questions like, “Do you want the bigger cutting mat? No? Are you sure? I can get it? It’s bigger. It will make it easier. It’s no problem. I can just go get it.”
When you finally cave in and say yes, then she starts her slow, painful walk downstairs. You can see her slow, clumsy movements, and you can hear her, “Ouch…ouch…ahhh…ouch…”
Yes, I did well. But it was time to go. Actually, when I remember, I kind of feel like throwing up. But I did it. I didn’t say, “I can do that. There is no need for you to bother. I’m an adult, you know. I can help myself.”
Why wasn’t that a good idea? Because I tried it before. Then she cried her eyes out, and continued her futile quest to be liked by doing sacrificial, unnecessary deeds. So it is a waste of time. Better let her do whatever she likes. After all, it is her house. Who am I to come and set rules for her?
I did really well. I was able to show compassion for my MIL’s shortcomings. By telling myself that what she did and said reflected who she was and what she saw, not me, I was able to shield myself from her. She was trying very hard to behave, mind you.
Once I took myself out of the picture and observed her for who she is, I started understanding the woman. It was amazing. It was like seeing the play by play in slow motion and seeing the workings of her mind and those parts of her behaviour that I find so annoying.
I found out that the whole time she was trying to be pleasing, agreeable, and loving. She has no idea that the final result is annoyance. I realized that she talks non-stop out of pure inadequacy, and the more she talks, the more she puts her foot in her mouth. I was able to just listen, observe, and analyze: a very interesting exercise.
What we did, most of the time, was to use preemptive measures. I brought the baking, so she didn’t have an excuse to kill herself baking for us. I cooked more than half the food, to stop her from going around complaining. But by the third day, this morning, she’d decided to take her place in the kitchen.
From the moment we woke up, she started offering food, and more food, and juice, and cookies, and water, and more cookies. When my husband and I started lining her cupboards, a project her husband had been procrastinating, she kept offering scissors, a knife, this and that, non-stop. Then I went completely silent and decided that I’d had it. It was time to go. Three days was my limit, as planned.
The problem was her hip issues. When she walks she constantly says “ouch,” every two seconds or so. But she comes to you with questions like, “Do you want the bigger cutting mat? No? Are you sure? I can get it? It’s bigger. It will make it easier. It’s no problem. I can just go get it.”
When you finally cave in and say yes, then she starts her slow, painful walk downstairs. You can see her slow, clumsy movements, and you can hear her, “Ouch…ouch…ahhh…ouch…”
Yes, I did well. But it was time to go. Actually, when I remember, I kind of feel like throwing up. But I did it. I didn’t say, “I can do that. There is no need for you to bother. I’m an adult, you know. I can help myself.”
Why wasn’t that a good idea? Because I tried it before. Then she cried her eyes out, and continued her futile quest to be liked by doing sacrificial, unnecessary deeds. So it is a waste of time. Better let her do whatever she likes. After all, it is her house. Who am I to come and set rules for her?
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Erasing negative memories
That book I read, The Power Within You, is the best motivational book I've ever read. I learned very much in it regarding how success comes about.
One of the addressed issues was how to change our longtime negative thoughts, so they don't affect our present anymore. He said that what we need to do is to re-live the situation we've failed at in the past and mentally do the right thing.
For example, I remember becoming very upset once, when a Chinese co-worker said to me that I should exercise at lunchtime everyday, to lose weight. And to make her argument more persuasive she added the name of her best friend who was skinny. "You should. Julie exercises at lunch everyday."
This girl, Julie, thought she was beautiful and smart and the apple of everyone's eye. Apparently, she was beautiful by Chinese standards. All the other Chinese in the office looked up to her, as if she'd been god.
So when her friend told me to lose weight to be like Julie, I must have gone completely red, then I grimaced, and waiving my hands said sharply, "Why would I want to be like Julie? I have everything that I can ever want in life. I don't need to be like Julie."
Of course, her majesty was told of the incident. All the Chinese heard about it, and my over-reaction went into my repertoire of temper blow-ups that everyone knew of.
I've been thinking in recent days that I should have reacted hypocritically. I should have said, "Interesting idea, Sandy. Thank you for your concern."
Then I should have gone to the bathroom to have a fit, all by myself. My problem is that I tell the truth, and people don't appreciate it. The truth is a gift they don't want. So I need to be as fake and hypocritical as they are, and experience my anger in private.
And to learn how to do that, I will, in the next few weeks, go out there and put myself in situations I've been avoiding like the pest, so I can practice.
Yesterday, I tried to go to a CODA meeting, and I couldn't find the address. That's a place where I can really practice, telling the co-dependents that I appreciate their help and then leaving the scene in a hurry.
This Easter weekend I'm facing my in-laws. That should be interesting. I can just hope that I won't be boiling over in anger for weeks to come. Let's see how it goes.
One of the addressed issues was how to change our longtime negative thoughts, so they don't affect our present anymore. He said that what we need to do is to re-live the situation we've failed at in the past and mentally do the right thing.
For example, I remember becoming very upset once, when a Chinese co-worker said to me that I should exercise at lunchtime everyday, to lose weight. And to make her argument more persuasive she added the name of her best friend who was skinny. "You should. Julie exercises at lunch everyday."
This girl, Julie, thought she was beautiful and smart and the apple of everyone's eye. Apparently, she was beautiful by Chinese standards. All the other Chinese in the office looked up to her, as if she'd been god.
So when her friend told me to lose weight to be like Julie, I must have gone completely red, then I grimaced, and waiving my hands said sharply, "Why would I want to be like Julie? I have everything that I can ever want in life. I don't need to be like Julie."
Of course, her majesty was told of the incident. All the Chinese heard about it, and my over-reaction went into my repertoire of temper blow-ups that everyone knew of.
I've been thinking in recent days that I should have reacted hypocritically. I should have said, "Interesting idea, Sandy. Thank you for your concern."
Then I should have gone to the bathroom to have a fit, all by myself. My problem is that I tell the truth, and people don't appreciate it. The truth is a gift they don't want. So I need to be as fake and hypocritical as they are, and experience my anger in private.
And to learn how to do that, I will, in the next few weeks, go out there and put myself in situations I've been avoiding like the pest, so I can practice.
Yesterday, I tried to go to a CODA meeting, and I couldn't find the address. That's a place where I can really practice, telling the co-dependents that I appreciate their help and then leaving the scene in a hurry.
This Easter weekend I'm facing my in-laws. That should be interesting. I can just hope that I won't be boiling over in anger for weeks to come. Let's see how it goes.
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