The brink of economic depression.
A little over a month ago there was a massive storm cloud hanging over our heads. Congress was actually working on a weekend (how often does that happen?), trying to print up enough truckloads of cash to make the money-jugglers on Wall Street smile again. I started watching too much news, gloom and doom flanked by Cialis and Cymbalta ads.
For those of you who know me, you may remember that for months I’ve been trying to figure out how to either revive my flagging home-based business or to decide on a new career. I have always been decisive, but after a series of mistakes I’ve been frozen. I started spending time on here instead of working or writing (which is my dream career).
Then this economic crisis hit, and I realized I was on the edge of an economic crisis too. There’s a time to live your dream and take big risks, and then there’s a time to make sure you can feed your kids and buy winter coats for them. This is the latter. I started looking for a job. Big shock. I have 27 years in a career that’s highly specialized, but not that much in demand. And it seems there’s not much else out there unless you know programming languages. I have kids who aren’t even close to college yet. I still need to work for decades. TV news anchors kept throwing out the phrase “Worldwide Depression” and I felt myself slipping toward a very personal one.
I haven’t been clinically depressed since the early 90’s, but I’ve teetered at the edge of it a few times. Anyway, a month ago I could actually feel a sinking, a turning down, a deflation of spirit. Back in the 90’s I went to counseling, took Prozac for a few months and pulled out of it. In recent years if I felt myself slipping into negativity, I just tried to remember that my brain chemistry seems to go in cycles, that serotonin levels would pick back up and I would feel better eventually. But this time it felt like I wouldn’t pull out of it without counseling and meds. And I don’t have anything against that if it becomes necessary, but for me the situation would have to be dire.
I don’t know how many of you have ever flown a plane (as opposed to flying in one). When you are ascending you have to maintain enough airspeed, otherwise the aircraft will stall (as mine did when I ran out of gas in a plane at the age of 19, but that’s another story). When the plane stalls the nose turns down and you start to descend. How the pilot handles that moment can determine whether he or she lives or dies. During the stall, if you do what you were already doing, pulling back on the yoke (the steering wheel) you may go into a spiral. The plane will spin nose down until you smack the ground. Or, if you stop pulling and push down on the yoke instead and allow the plane to stall, it will pick up speed and you can then ease back on the yoke and glide. Gliding is still a descent, but not a downward spiral. It allows you to buy some time while you search for a place to make an emergency landing.
Fighting depression, or the onset of a depression as was my case, is similar. At least for me it was. I had to change my approach. Instead of watching the news and worrying about which direction I should take next, which class I should take, which certification I needed, I thought back to some of the things that have brought me happiness in the past. They were writing, designing graphics, listening to upbeat music, contacting people I hadn’t seen or spoken to in a while, exercising, walking my dogs and playing with my kids. I turned off CNN.
I believe it’s possible to change the chemical balance of one’s brain without meds. Sometimes there’s no other way, but medication isn’t always the way. I started feeling better and when I feel good, ideas flow.
Then last week circumstances began to catch up. I made progress on a children’s book I’m writing, I thought up an idea for a non-fiction book and designed a variety of covers for it. I found out my golden retriever is pregnant (puppies available by New Years!). I set up a lunch meeting with a company that may partner with mine to benefit both of us. And at the end of the week I went on a date, possibly the start of a relationship. This week has been productive in writing. I went on a field trip with my kid’s class and saw dolphins up close on a beautiful sunny day. My biz lunch is tomorrow.
And I have a plan for re-educating myself so that if the various projects I’m working on don’t catch, I’ll have more marketable skills. I’ll enroll in classes to learn key programming languages, get IT and teaching certificates, and possibly apply to law school for next fall.
There was one huge mistake I did make over the last month. For weeks I turned in on myself. I didn’t admit to anyone that I was struggling. I didn’t tell anyone here. Didn’t tell family. I’m all the time advising people on help.com (esp. the suicidal teens) that they need to seek help from their families who love them. These last few weeks have reminded me of how hard that can be to do. Like a hypocrite I didn’t take my own advice. I didn’t call on my family-family and I didn’t call on my help.com family either. To all of you, I’m sorry that I let pride keep me from asking for your help.
To those who shouted or emailed me.. Kim, Setto, Greeneyes, Fizz, Smoogie, Red Sky, Shie (those chain emails drive me crazy but you send the best dirty jokes), Miss Enigma, Libragirl, Sasha, Mas.. thank you. A little shout makes a big difference.
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