I very wise and caring friend recently sent me a blog post that referenced a study showing that writing is more therapeutic than talk. So I figured that I needed to revisit this "grounded living" thing and update y'all on life down here at the bottom of the emotional food chain.
On the job front, there's a lot to tell, but I won't bore you. Essentially, it's been a roller coaster of occasional interview, job offer (I do interview well, if I say so myself), but something always falls through - the contract job disappears, another consulting firm gets someone in place quicker, the task order doesn't materialize when expected. It's gotten to the point that I've completely lost all hope. It's distressing to live without hope - by nature I was always an upbeat, optimistic person. Tigger, my Mum called me. But no longer. My therapist says she thinks the optimism will return once I start a job. But I'm fairly sure the scars of unemployment will remain in some way. Hopefully in good ways.
As of right now, I'm on an hour by hour wait for a contract and to start working in the next few days. Feel free to hold out hope for me, but please don't be surprised if things fall through again. I sure won't be.
Don't get me wrong - I'm gratified that I keep on getting these jobs and/or strong interest from people. It's just that "almost" doesn't comfort, doesn't pay the mortgage, doesn't give me a reason to get up each day and face the world.
In other news, I'm back down to my goal weight (set in May 2003) after piling on a few pounds in the depths of my depression. So if I do start a job, at least I won't have to buy a whole new wardrobe! Not that I can bring myself to go into any stores, visit any of my favorite clothing websites or even flip through a Title Nine or Athleta catalogue. Back in June when I had a job offer in hand and was daily expecting my clearance to come through, I bought a Lucky magazine, then threw it out unopened a week later. I haven't even spent the DSW gift certificate for shoes that Mark got me for my birthday and to celebrate my last job offer. I've mentally linked the two and can't seem to uncouple them. I'll post a picture of my new shoes as soon as I start a job and you'll all know what it means!
The past few weeks have been kind of lonely with Mark visiting family in NZ. I've lost a job before I even started, had two interviews, been offered and negotiated for a job and lost my best friend all in four weeks. He's been great, but 9,500 miles are still 9,500 miles. And several timezones. And then there's technology which is wonderful when it works, but when it doesn't ... OTOH, Skype is a lifesaver. And four weeks into it, Mark just figured out video, so I was able to show him and my PIL the bathrooms.
Ah, the bathrooms. They are the one bright spot in my life lately. They're gorgeous, have come so far in so short a time (two weeks from go to whoa, basically), and will be finished by the end of the week. I can't quite believe it. All the hard work and literal blood, sweat and tears that Mark and I have put into these rooms - one a former closet, the other the smallest family bathroom in America - all the flights of stairs we've run up and down to use the loo in the basement, it's all coming to fruition. And hopefully it was a sound financial decision as well as sanity saving one (hey - I'm unemployed, why don't I renovate our bathroom in my spare time!). It was tough working together in such a small space, but I have been very proud of how Mark has come into his own as a renovator, and I have learned to get out of his way and let him work through the construction issues. And huge thanks go to my friend who came when I called her in tears the night before the tilers were due and I was desperately trying to finish the durock and half a dozen other tasks. She literally rescued me. And taught me a good lesson that it's OK to reach out when you're at the bottom.
The person I really want to read this won't. But maybe it can be of help to some random stranger or friend. You can reach out. When you're crying uncontrollably, reach out. When you're faced with a deadline and know you can't make it, reach out. When you're lonely, reach out. Your friend will come and help you install durock. Someone will come and help schlep construction debris to the trash. The quietest and sweetest people will keep you company on the day you lost the job you never started. Your silly friend will take you in and pamper you for a night and never ask why. And if you need it, the person to whom you said cruel things, or who you drove away in the depths of your depression, or who didn't have time to meet you for coffee will come and drive you home from the ER or give you a hug when you need it the most.
My depression has come a long way too. I've had long periods of time of calm and productivity and almost optimism. And cycles of emotional trauma and paralysis. Overall though, it's been better and the little things aren't derailing me the way they used to. Now, if only the negative Big Things would stop happening and the positive Big Things start!
My therapist, every week, asks about my exercising. She went as far as to say that it's clear that exercise is like meds for me. I have a feeling she's reviewing her copious notes and seeing a correlation between when I'm feeling good and when I've exercised. The one benefit of all this work on the bathroom is that it's forced me to swim just so I can shower at the pool. I've even gotten to the point of being able to zone out and enjoy the swimming. I haven't been able to switch my brain off for the past week or so, but I have had an occasional breakthrough in form and resulting power which was a very pleasant surprise. After eight years of swimming, maybe I'm finally getting it?
The only problem with exercise as meds for a depressed person is that depression also sucks any motivation to leave the house. A bit of a chicken and egg situation that I don't always overcome. But sometimes I do and I always benefit from it. Last week when I was feeling optimistic about this job, I even was getting excited about being able to sign up for the Rev3 iron distance race in September of 2012. I figured that if I had the money to sign up, then I should do it (the money being dependent on the job) even if the job is only temporary. Since the job itself is only through March, I could continue to be frugal in other ways - I don't need to race since I'm pretty experienced and I can save race fees, I can continue ride leading and therefore not have to pay coaching/team fees, I can give up cable (I gave up TV for most of the time I trained for Ironman) and save the cable fees and so forth. And if I'm in full ironman training by March and nothing else comes up, I will at least have the training to keep me motivated and keep those endorphins flowing. Seems like a sound plan, but I do have to have that job by September. No pressure, eh?
Other bloggers like to write lists - Thursday Thirteen seems to be popular. I'm not sure I can come up with 13 anything, but here are a few things that have made me smile recently.
1. My friend Alaina getting off her bike after a 26 mile ride (she got lost and added a couple), saying "I can see how someone could go 112 miles." Oh, yeah. Ironman is in her future.
2. Snow in NZ cities (I think the last time in ChCh, I was 8). Thanks to some very talented videographers, these made me smile and feel closer to some of my favorite places: Christchurch: http://vimeo.com/26853300, Wellington: http://vimeo.com/27709878. We in DC have grown too blasé about the beauty and fun of snow.
3. My delightful tiler Octavio who was so supportive when I told him I was leaving to go for an interview. "Good luck," he said. "You need it." I suspect he meant I needed the job, but he was so very very sincere it made me all warm inside and laugh.
4. Seeing a new baby arrive safe and sound into this world. There are still too many uncertainties about pregnancy and childbirth so every safe birth of a healthy baby is to be celebrated.
Not much to hang a hat on, but I'll take the smiles.
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