The best description I've heard of depression is that it's like being in an abusive relationship with yourself. That rings true to me. I starve myself, hurt myself, and mercilessly berate myself - though, as always, some days are better than others. The most constant abuse I inflict/suffer is simply telling myself that I am worthless. I'm a big loser who's never going to do anything of substance with my life.
(Now, before you start consoling me, let me say: I know I'm not actually worthless. Cognitively, I understand that. But the logic and my understanding matter very little when my depression is strong. The brain will never convince the heart.)
So imagine how difficult it is, while I'm feeling completely worthless, to try to sell myself as a prospective employee. They ask, "Why should I hire you?" And my depression responds, "I don't know. I'm really not all that great. You probably shouldn't."
I try not to say that out loud during interviews.
But let me just take a moment and try to explain how very difficult it is to look for a job while I'm in this depression:
- I have to LOOK for job openings. This requires energy - as well as enough optimism to hope that it's even remotely possible that I will get a job. If I am locked into such a dark place that I cannot imagine anyone ever hiring me again, it's impossible to go through the effort of job searching.
- Applying for a job requires some hoop-jumping. Again, this take energy, a scarce commodity some days. Depression makes me very prone to seeing things as pointless; that means that it's difficult to convince myself that it's worth filling out basically the same application for the 14th time when the other 13 times haven't amounted to anything. It's hard not to check out and give up.
- Interviews mean leaving the house and talking to strangers. If left to my own devices, I often won't leave my bedroom until after noon. I rarely change out of my pajamas unless I have to, and leaving the house is something reserved for emergencies and going to church. So getting up, getting dressed, driving somewhere new, talking to people - it's a lot to ask.
- I have to answer tricky questions. My most recent job is the job I quit because of my depression. I get asked a lot of questions about why I left, why I was there for so short a period of time, etc. I always answer that I had a medical emergency that required me to move home - which is 100% true, but it feels like a lie. Knowing that I'm hiding my depression makes me feel a little guilty. Talking about my last job brings a whole wave of pain and shame that I'm not prepared to deal with.
- I have to pretend. A LOT. I constantly worry that someone's going to find out about my depression (I had to hide my blog from web searches in fear that prospective employers will find my depression posts and turn me away immediately). But also, I have to pretend that I like myself and believe I would be a good employee. This used to be true, of course; but when my depression is really bad, I have nothing but disdain for myself. Still, though, I pretend. I pretend I am not broken, but that I am perfectly well and confident in my ability to do absolutely anything that comes my way. It's exhausting.
- Rejection. Obviously, rejection can be devastating for anyone, regardless of their mental health. But when I'm already half-convinced that I'll never be happy again, getting a rejection letter is scalding. Debilitating, in fact. Further proof that I was stupid to think I had anything of value to offer the world. If the rejections start piling on (and they have), it seems more and more certain that I will never amount to anything. Hopelessness is very real, and it can be deadly.
- Moving Forward. I was excited during my first week of job applications. I got two interviews really quickly, and they seemed to go well. But I didn't get the job. I kept applying, waiting to hear back from people, answering emails and phone calls. I got more interviews. I got more rejections. Each time, I want to give up. I just want to go to sleep and never wake up. And I usually do sleep for a long time after a rejection. But then I get up. And I apply again, even though it feels like I'm raking my arms with gravel and glass. Because I have to get out of this hole, this darkness I've been trapped in for so long. And even though I keep falling back to the bottom, scraping and bruising and breaking, I have to keep trying to climb out. I just have to.
I know a lot of good people who have gone unemployed for far too long. I know a lot of people who searched and searched and found nothing - people with families depending on them. I don't have that worry. And I don't believe I deserve any better than they. I'm willing to wait - and try to learn patience in suffering - if that's what God requires of me.
But still, I pray to find a job soon.
