![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Nov. 7th, 2003
Employophobia
Nov. 7th, 2003 06:04 pmWaking this morning, I was pleasantly surprised to see bright sunlight glowing on the curtain. I was trying to decide whether to go for a walk, then remembered I had an appointment downtown this afternoon, and decided to stay in and get some writing done before going out. I expected the sunlight to make for a good day, but it turned out otherwise.
Strangely, I sleep better away from home. The last two nights I spent in Toronto, despite my cycle getting screwed up, I managed to get better sleep than I have had in weeks. Tuesday morning I lay awake for two hours. Then, after Danny got up, I went back to sleep and slept past 10 for a total of nine hours sleep. The next night I couldn't settle down until 2 a.m., but then I slept almost solidly until 10:30, only stirring long enough to nuzzle the handsome cub out of bed.
Those two nights were a gift. I came home Wednesday feeling better rested and in a better mood than I have in several weeks. Now, unfortunately I'm back to my usual routine of sleeping poorly. After getting less than six hours, two nights in a row, autumnal depression has started badgering me again.
Today I had a decent writing session over lunchtime, then caught the bus downtown to meet my employment counsellor. When I first met Gurinder two months ago I was enthusiastic and she seemed supportive. My attitude has deteriorated since then. I had called yesterday to set up this appointment in a desperate effort to get myself job hunting again, but our meeting was tentative and left me with a sense of futility. I felt incompetent to impress myself on anyone. The idea of calling a store manager or going to an interview made my mind go fetal. In Gurinder's office, I wanted to cry. An inner voice told me, "No one is ever going to hire you." (Where did this come from, and why has it stayed so long?)
Gurinder told me to make some cold calls, and I signed up for two workshops on interview skills.
I walked home along the rail line. The afternoon light was muted but piercing, like nostalgic old photographs. My hopelessness was utterly out of proportion to the circumstances. I told myself, "One thing at a time." Monday I'll go to the job bank.
By the time I got home, despite some motivational thinking, I could tell my chemistry was off. It wasn't so much in my head as a gnawing sensation in my joints. It felt like fear. I'm not afraid of people; it's this particular challenge. What is so frightening about looking for a job? Opening my door, coming upstairs and sitting down in my room was an incredible relief.
Two hours later I feel relaxed again, but I know it's only because I've taken myself out of harm's way, surrounded myself with the familiarity of my own solitude, where no one can can reject me. Tomorrow will be another day. I must go into the world again. I can't hide here forever. Why does this have to be so painful?
Strangely, I sleep better away from home. The last two nights I spent in Toronto, despite my cycle getting screwed up, I managed to get better sleep than I have had in weeks. Tuesday morning I lay awake for two hours. Then, after Danny got up, I went back to sleep and slept past 10 for a total of nine hours sleep. The next night I couldn't settle down until 2 a.m., but then I slept almost solidly until 10:30, only stirring long enough to nuzzle the handsome cub out of bed.
Those two nights were a gift. I came home Wednesday feeling better rested and in a better mood than I have in several weeks. Now, unfortunately I'm back to my usual routine of sleeping poorly. After getting less than six hours, two nights in a row, autumnal depression has started badgering me again.
Today I had a decent writing session over lunchtime, then caught the bus downtown to meet my employment counsellor. When I first met Gurinder two months ago I was enthusiastic and she seemed supportive. My attitude has deteriorated since then. I had called yesterday to set up this appointment in a desperate effort to get myself job hunting again, but our meeting was tentative and left me with a sense of futility. I felt incompetent to impress myself on anyone. The idea of calling a store manager or going to an interview made my mind go fetal. In Gurinder's office, I wanted to cry. An inner voice told me, "No one is ever going to hire you." (Where did this come from, and why has it stayed so long?)
Gurinder told me to make some cold calls, and I signed up for two workshops on interview skills.
I walked home along the rail line. The afternoon light was muted but piercing, like nostalgic old photographs. My hopelessness was utterly out of proportion to the circumstances. I told myself, "One thing at a time." Monday I'll go to the job bank.
By the time I got home, despite some motivational thinking, I could tell my chemistry was off. It wasn't so much in my head as a gnawing sensation in my joints. It felt like fear. I'm not afraid of people; it's this particular challenge. What is so frightening about looking for a job? Opening my door, coming upstairs and sitting down in my room was an incredible relief.
Two hours later I feel relaxed again, but I know it's only because I've taken myself out of harm's way, surrounded myself with the familiarity of my own solitude, where no one can can reject me. Tomorrow will be another day. I must go into the world again. I can't hide here forever. Why does this have to be so painful?
Some final thoughts from yesterday's walk
Nov. 7th, 2003 06:22 pmToday's bright skies brought sharp cold. These lingering colours will soon disappear.
