One year ago today, I didn’t know where I was headed. I only knew that I had resolved to never again hide my illness away. It was terrifying and liberating all at once. Terrifying to reveal something I had tried to hide for so long, liberating in the freedom that only sunlight can bring. In that moment, I began to shed the shame I carried for all these years. That is the best way I can describe it, and it was the one word that returned again and again as I worked through my feelings. Shame for having tried to kill myself. Shame for wanting to try again. Shame for never telling those closest to me the struggles I faced. Shame for these ongoing feelings and the belief that all of it was my own fault. The adopted shame of our society regarding mental illness.
These are powerful forces, not easily displaced.
I have documented here, my journey through therapy, of thinking that I was incapable of joy and finding that hidden in my despair was a glimmer of happiness. It has been a mostly upward trajectory. I have stumbled, more than a few times, especially since ending therapy last Spring, but the downward pressure has been limited and fleeting.
Even in the face of cancer, or maybe, now that I think of it, because of it, I changed my focus and began looking for ways to live a more rewarding and meaningful life. Depression, even in its mildest forms, is insidious because it makes you believe that no matter what you do, you will never change the course of your life. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever. And you begin to believe this. The perception becomes reality, and any aspirations, hopes, or dreams that begin to rise to the surface, depression stifles.
I have long desired to find another job, something that is giving back to my community. The thought would sometimes emerge, over the past 20 some years, but I never seemed able to muster the courage to walk away from stability. Then, amidst my inner exploration in therapy, came cancer, and I realized that I couldn’t wait any longer.
I began laying the groundwork for my departure. I had no idea what I might do, but I had three criteria:
- I would work fewer hours and not be on call.
- I would work for an organization that is helping people in my community, especially those in most need of help.
- I would work within 10 miles of my home.
These were difficult parameters, but I felt that they could be realized. I started looking not long after my surgery. There were several positions that I was really excited about, early on. Unfortunately, I was not getting any interviews and usually not even a rejection email.
After several months of this, I started to get discouraged. That self-doubt started creeping in. It undermined my confidence and my determination. Thankfully, more opportunities came, and all of a sudden I had a phone interview, and the request for an in-person interview, and the request from another employer for a video interview. Within the span of just two weeks, I went from having no real prospects to being offered a job.
One year ago, I took a step, a large and frightening step, and it has lead to a whole new chapter in my life. For someone for whom the future always looked dark, I see nothing but hope and lightness before me now. I am nervous, scared, excited, and optimistic. I look at my bright future and I am filled with joy at its prospects.