Tag: covid19

6 Months Later… I Am Not Okay And Sinking Fast

On By spaige08In counseling, depression, masters degree, medication, mental health, mental health awareness, mental illness, self harm, Uncategorized, writingLeave a comment

Every morning when I first wake up before I fully open my eyes, I remember how it used to be, life as it used to be. Some how I can still see it; a time where there were no masks, no political turmoil; a time where I had a purpose, a job, that gave me a reason to get up.

6 months later, and that remembrance of how life used to be has sailed away on the last gust of wind. In what seems like years, we as a nation can agree that these last 6 months have been depleting.

My routine was forever changed on April 1st, 2020 when I found out my last day at work would be the following day. I was devastated. The first couple of weeks after finding out I fell back into a deep depressive state that involved several episodes of self-harm. All I thought was how I was laid off because I was a horrible employee. Somewhere during the last 5 1/2 years, I did something that made me a top candidate to be let go. Only a small piece of me realized that this mass lay off was due to Covid-19.

After meeting via Telehealth with both my psychiatrist and therapist, they thought it best if I created a schedule and stuck to it. So, with the help of my very wise teen daughter, I did just that. Then I took it to another level and decided to turn this huge negative of being laid off into a positive and am pursuing an M.S. in Clinical Mental Health Counseling. This is a field I know very well sitting in the front row seat as the client. Now I want to return the favor and give back help to those like me.

With this renewed hope, I was smiling again. I was happy.

And then it all changed.

I think it started with an acquaintance of mine who posted something on Facebook about all the people collecting unemployment and how we are abusing the system for the extra $600 (this was prior to the end of the Federal funding). Within this shared post was how it was unfair to the essential workers (which I fully agree with) who got nothing and they are on the front lines being more exposed (*Side note… not all essential workers were in danger of being exposed like the men and women who work the hospitals. But I digress). Also within this dialogue was how we on unemployment were lazy and not looking for jobs because we are just living off the state and the federal government and how if we weren’t lazy, we would look for a job, any job, even if it meant minimum wage.

I was offended. I responded to this person’s post and said that I was not lazy and was looking and had applied to jobs even though we weren’t required to at the moment because of Covid-19. The return response was something to the effect of “Well, if it doesn’t concern you, stay out of it”. This was a person I at one time considered to be a best friend. A friend who knew my work ethic from the beginning. To call all of us on unemployment lazy did in fact concern me. I was defending myself as well as others like myself.

I think more than anything, it broke my heart to know that no matter what this person knew of me and about me, this is how they viewed me. I had long ago realized our friendship would never be as strong as it once was (and I mourned it then), but now I knew I had to cut the ties of whatever was left.

Because I live with chronic depression, I sat with this situation and started questioning myself to see if I was this “lazy” person. I had applied to several jobs. That being said, I was not running out and applying for minimum wage jobs as I was receiving a good income where I was, and yes, my unemployment was far more than any minimum wage job would pay me. I think the main problem with the job hunt for me was the narrow field I had placed myself into. There were not many openings for architectural project managers or cad operators. If an opening popped up, I applied.

6 months later, where has it gotten me?

Sinking into a deeper depressive hole that is rapidly circling the drain.

I’ve applied to 20-25 jobs. Most of them are cad positions where all the employer has to do is take a look at my 18 years of experience and throw my application out. No employer wants to pay for someone with that experience when they can pay someone with 2+ years for a lot less. I have had many views on my applications, but only 3 bites. As I like to call it, I have had the planes, trains, and automobiles of interviews: 1 phone, 1 Zoom, and 1 in-person.

So far, nothing. Yes, I understand, we are still head deep in the mess that is Covid-19, but what you, my reader, might not understand is that I have NEVER been unemployed before. Ever. After 6 months, I feel like I never will be employed again. And I am almost as depressed as I was during all of 2019, and that is not good.

I have not harmed myself since June, but it plays out in my head often as well as intrusive thoughts such as trucks hitting my car while I’m driving and my yearning for it. And yet, I have not spoken with my therapist since July. Family members have asked me why I would not talk with him. There are a few reasons: I despise Telehealth, I want to physically sit face-to-face; with being unemployed there is a lack of funds; and lastly, what new would he tell me that I haven’t heard before through the decades of therapy I’ve had?

I told my psychiatrist all this during my ‘appointment’ with her over the phone and she expressed to me that maybe I needed a change of therapy type, that CBT (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy) didn’t sound like it was working for me anymore. She brought up DBT (Dialectal Behavioral Therapy) again, along with ACT (Acceptance and Commitment Therapy). She had brought these up to me about a year ago as well. Couple that fact with the medication I’m on not alleviating my symptoms, and I know I am in trouble.

It’s funny really, how on December 31st, 2019 I shed my major depression by saying “2020 is my year to take me back!”. My inner bitch is laughing about it now. It started out that way. Now, with this deepening depression, I am being cautious to not jinx 2021; I need to see the script before I commit to you!

I really just want to be okay.

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*To note: I am not suicidal. Yes, I have self-harming and intrusive thoughts, but I am under the care of a psychiatrist. I have sought out a therapist in the area who specializes in DBT and ACT and will be seeing him in-person (yes, with masks) this Thursday. I want to get better; I am just so tired of fighting.

Covid-19: A Glimmer of Light

On By spaige08In Advocacy, counseling, depression, masters degree, mental health, mental health awareness, mental illness, suicide, Uncategorized, writing, Youth Mental HealthLeave a comment

I have been absent, silent, and honestly, very confused by Covid-19. The world of US residents has been turned upside down since mid-March, and we are just now slowly climbing out of our dark holes. Although most of the country is experiencing something similar to what professionals deem “the second wave,” I would like to stay in the bubble of New England where (knock on wood) we have flattened the curve.

How can there be any light among the despair of a global pandemic?! The rollercoaster ride I’ve ridden these past four months had mostly drops instead of inclines. I had no positives in my life except for the health of my friends and family. I had lost my job. I had lost my uncle. I had lost the intimacy of actually spending time with friends face-to-face. I was spiraling fast, and it was not a place I wanted to go again.

At the urging of my therapist and psychiatrist, I made concrete schedules for my former workdays. I had to keep myself busy; otherwise, my brain would wander off to the wonderful (note sarcasm) negative thoughts that have plagued it for decades. The schedule worked fine for a while, but soon it was becoming mundane. I needed more. I needed a light bulb to go on.

And then it did.

I decided there could be a positive outcome from this pandemic for me. I decided to pursue a Masters degree in Clinical Mental Health Counseling. The pandemic had given me the time to reinvent myself, to change careers.

I started at a CACREP accredited university on June 1st and am almost finished with the first quarter. There are two classes per quarter with a one week break at the end of the courses. The first two classes were Foundations of Graduate Study in Counseling and Introduction to Mental Health Counseling. The former was only a 6-week course, which I finished with an ‘S.’ I know, I know, only an ‘S’?! This course had two final grades: ‘S’ for satisfactory and ‘U’ for unsatisfactory. I have to say, though, the ‘S’ really deflates the 99.95% I had in the course.

My Intro to Mental Health Counseling course has proved to be very informative and interesting. While this is an online program, we have a professor and classmates which we interact with on weekly discussions. We have had a brief overview of the history of mental health, self-care, ethics, and multicultural counseling.

I just finished my assignment for this week, which was a reflection on our own biases and differences and how, as a counselor, this could affect us. We had to examine our self. What I have realized upon reading all the material and taking a few self-assessment quizzes, is that although I am a relatively unbiased person, I do have some slight prejudices. I accept this and will learn from this assignment that I will always need to self-assess and, of course, put my clients first.

The final project for this course is to interview a licensed counselor who works with your desired population. I tended to flip-flop on the population I want to work with. First, I wanted to work with women from postpartum to post-menopause. Then, a local girl took her life and that changed everything for me. I understood this girl because I was similar to her in my adolescence with severe depression. At the point I read about her suicide, I decided if I ever went back to school to become a therapist, I would counsel youth and adolescents. I believe helping this population can have staggering effects on their future as adults. Luckily, I know a fabulous child therapist. She is the one my daughter sees and has done wonders with her.

For next week’s assignment I need to advocate for my desired population concerning a topic that affects them. We can present this as a Powerpoint presentation, brochure, flyer, and blog post. What better way to express my advocacy than doing what I have already been doing through my blog!

So, in the next day or two, you will see a new blog post from me. It will not be in my usual format as I am required to use a couple of citations, but it will concern the mental health of our youth. I am sure many of my parental readers will find value in it.

I hope that you, my readers, will join me at the end of the tunnel, where the glimmer of light shines in this currently dismal world. Maybe by reading this post, you can find your own glimmer of light, your own glimmer of hope.

Chronic Depression and COVID-19

On By spaige08In anxiety, depression, mental health, mental health awareness, mental illness, postpartum, postpartum depression, self harm, suicide, Uncategorized, writingLeave a comment

I have had diagnosed depression for the last 26 years. I can barely remember a time when I didn’t have it. Honestly, I probably was depressed since birth. It is just how my brain is wired. I have always been a chronic pessimist, seeing the glass fully empty. I was the one who knew I wasn’t invincible and expected bad things to happen to me. I would stare at happy people and wonder why I wasn’t circuited that way. And then as I aged, I just accepted that I was never ever going to have a sunny disposition.

In the beginning, my depression started out with episodes of major depressive disorder. As a teen I had MDD because we moved to a different state right before high school. Then came the stress of completing my senior year in high school followed by beating myself up over a poor semester in college.

Then it morphed. It became postpartum depression bringing anxiety, a new friend, into the mix. At some point it changed to dysthymia with episodic MDD. Then, it metamorphosed into cyclical depression last year becoming difficult to treat and adding several bipolar disorder medications to my regime.

I was somewhat stable, let’s say status quo, and then COVID-19 hit, the global pandemic that has made us all feel like we’re living in an episode of the Twilight Zone.

At first it was my anxiety disorder that took possession of my body. I was worried that I would obtain this novel virus. This was enhanced by my daughter’s anxiety that had her thinking we were all going to contract and die from this coronavirus. It kept me awake as I could not shut my brain off even with 100mg of Trazodone, 100mg of Lamictal and 300mg of Gabapentin.

Then on April 1st anxiety departed and my chronic depression stood center stage. In the cruelest April Fool’s Day prank, I was laid off, except this was no joke. After I got off the phone with my boss, I told my husband I was going on a long walk. I was upset, crying (which is rare for me) and needed to clear my head. I wound my way through many local streets and the educational park. I couldn’t understand why. Yes, I knew on a large scale this was happening everywhere. I knew my company laid off 70% of their workforce and shut business down for who knows how long.

It was the smaller scale ‘Why me?!’ that was driving me into the dark abyss. There were four of us in the department who did the same thing. Two of us were let go. Why didn’t I make the cut?! I understood why one of the people in my department stayed but I couldn’t understand why the other one was there and I wasn’t. I had excellent reviews, my projects hadn’t been shut down yet, and I was not the last one hired. My husband explained to me that it was probably due to salary and I most likely was making more so to save the company money, I had to go.

But I couldn’t let go of this. It gnawed at my brain. The negative thoughts repeated themselves over and over again:

“You’re useless!”

“You’re worthless!”

“You sucked at your job! Why would they ever keep you?!”

“You’re not needed!”

“You couldn’t hold on to your job. Are you stupid?”

The guilt and self-loathing are the worst. I now feel as if I am not contributing anything to the family anymore. My income was almost equal to my husband’s. In my head we are now going to lose all our savings, including the savings we created for emergencies, you know like for a global pandemic! I just never thought we would have to actually use it. I have applied for unemployment and miraculously have not had to wait long as others have.

But the guilt is still there. I have self harmed several times since April 1st because I feel I deserve the pain. The loathing got worse when my coworker texted me for some information regarding one of my projects (the one who was hired after me). That day I had strong suicidal ideations. If I had a plan, who knows what I would’ve done. Luckily, I did not act on them and virtually met with my psychiatrist the next day and my therapist the day after.

It scares me. It scares me to not have anything to ‘do’. I’m petrified of how my thoughts may worsen. I thought my depression that lasted all of 2019 was bad, but this, this has gotten worse and in such a short amount of time.

I try to avoid my former coworkers because I am afraid of how this may trigger me. This is hard to do sometimes as my boss calls me weekly to ‘check in’. Check in on what? How sucky my life is right now? He called last Friday right after I found out that my uncle passed away due to COVID-19. Talk about triggers. I was done. I seriously did not know how I was going to survive anymore pondering the question ‘What else could go wrong?!’. Because, you know, I cannot view anything as a positive.

Both my psychiatrist and therapist suggested I create a schedule that way I am not dwelling on the negative thoughts. I am working on several of them now: One for rainy weekdays, one for sunny weekdays and one for weekends. I logically know this will help me. When I have things to do I can easily get out of my head. My negative thoughts do not stay away all day. They flutter in and out like a butterfly seeking just the right nectar. For the most part though I can tell them, my Inner Bitch, to shut up.

I am not really sure what the next few weeks or months will bring. I am sure I will be riding this rollercoaster for awhile, with a few contently lucid climbs, many spiraling downfalls and some corkscrews constantly circling my brain.

I just have to hold on for the ride and not let go.