I did a few chores yesterday, but spent some time procrastinating and putting off Pesach (Passover) chores number. In the evening I went to depression group. The Monday meetings (which I haven’t been going to for a while because of work commitments on Tuesday mornings) tend to have a speaker or theme for the first half. Yesterday we were talking about hobbies and other ways that we distract from our mental health issues. Lots of people shared some (very good) artwork, so I spoke about my blog and read part of a post out. Although I had spent some time beforehand choosing a post, I didn’t really hit me until I read it how suicidal I sounded in the post; I think one person was quite worried about me. A few people said it was very powerfully written and a couple of people asked for the URL to read it, so I may have picked up a few more readers. I do feel a bit embarrassed thinking about it today. I always get embarrassed when people congratulate me on my writing, plus I wonder if maybe I did pick a very negative post to read (it was the beginning of this post).
Today was split between Pesach preparations and writing a job application. I was slow to get up and get going because I was feeling depressed, but I managed to do a few things in the afternoon. I feel frustrated by not being able to do as much in a day as I used to be able to do because of the depression, although “used to be able” is now going back so far that it isn’t really helpful any more. Plus, I think that even when I was younger I still got distracted. It’s possible that I just set targets I could never reach or, as my Dad says, that I’m just bad at planning. Someone from the therapy group I attended at The Network said she only puts one thing on her to do list each day now and, depressingly, I could see the appeal of that. I usually try to do far more than I actually manage to do and end up making myself more depressed by failing to meet my plan.
I found out that I didn’t get the job I was interviewed for last week. It was not surprising, given how long I have been waiting to hear and how badly I did at the interview. I suppose I should just put it down to experience, but it reinforces my feelings about not being able to work. Related to these fears, I spoke to someone from A S Mentoring today, an organisation that helps people with autism in the workplace. They could potentially help me, but there is a quite steep charge for seeing them after a free trial meeting as well as a three month waiting list. My Mum is in favour of going on the waiting list, while my father was more sceptical of whether they could help. I’m not sure what to do. It doesn’t help that I’m not sure what my support needs actually are. A lot would depend on what job I end up in. Some of my issues, like needing extra-long processing time when asked an open question, my difficulty changing tasks at short-notice or my preference for written instructions over verbal ones, would apply in many environments. If I had an understanding boss, as I did in my last job, but not in an earlier one, that would make things easier.
I seem to be having disturbing dreams at the moment, perhaps because of my high anxiety levels. A couple of nights ago was a Nineteen Eighty-Four dream which, perhaps fortunately, I didn’t really remember, I was just left with a vague impression of it. Then last night I dreamt about terrorism, shootings and plane hijackings. And Beatrix Potter’s Jemima Puddle-Duck. Don’t laugh, it really upset me as a child (when the dogs eat her eggs).