It was a long time coming. I’d been looking for about 6 months and applied to over 170 jobs. I learned a lot during this process but specifically found that it is really tough out there in the job market right now. It’s insanely competitive and, in a city like Boston, every job gets at least 100 unbelievably qualified applicants. Gone are the days of a one and done interview situation. In every application, cover letter, phone call, and interview you need to show that you are a unique individual that can make an incomparable contribution to the position. It was tough and took a lot of strength I didn’t think I had.
My decision to start a job search stemmed from three solid months of disrespect at a place where I thought I was supposed to feel nurtured and valued. It floored and devastated me. I don’t like to talk about work on my blog. I don’t think it’s appropriate and I don’t plan to say much more than what I’ve already said here but I do want to share other aspects of my experience.
The blogosphere can be deceiving. It is real easy for me to post about great new recipes, quirky home projects, fun weekend trips, and make life seem shiny and perfect. The truth is, for the past 6 months, it’s been anything but. I’ve mentioned it vaguely in a few posts (here, here, here) but the truth is I’ve been struggling in a way I haven’t been able to say publicly or want people (other than my husband) to know about.
Depression is an awful thing to live with. If you’ve done it, you know. The past 6 months were real, overwhelming, despairing, unending. I can tell the different between having a bad day/week and what the past 6 months were like. I was in survival mode; dragging myself out of bed, somehow pulling it together, functioning just enough to get through the day, trudging home utterly exhausted (emotionally and physically), crashing almost immediately, and repeating. Every day. For 6 months. It was suffocating. It was hopeless. It was remarkably lonely. It took me away from the things I love in life, my health, my marriage, and myself. Depression can be such a shameful experience. You withdraw into your own private world where you can avoid judgment or the possibility of letting anyone else see how bad it’s gotten. You pull away from the people you love to avoid hurting them or dragging them down with you. I’ve avoided, and disassociated from, so many things in the last 6 months. I let this darkness swallow me whole. I didn’t know what else to do.
Blogging may have been the only thing that got me through. Using my posts as a way to force myself in to the kitchen or to the craft store or just out of my own neverending negative thoughts. It is the one and only normal thing I was able to hang on to; the only thing that kept me grounded. I can’t begin to say how grateful I am for it and for you for reading.
With the kind of fortitude that is only born of necessity, I was able to focus enough to land this new job that I am extremely excited about and proud of. It took everything I had but I forced myself to leap and not to acquiesce. I finally feel like I have my life back. That I’m in control. The door is wide open now and I can’t tell you how relieved and hopeful I feel.