I'd like to believe that part of life is about taking chances, taking risks, and about having a support network that will be there when you fall. I struggle with the last part, because when I fell down the rabbit hole almost two years ago (I had a mental health crisis and was then diagnosed with a mental illness), I felt abandoned by the people who were closest to me. I had built much of my life - maybe all of my life - around my career. I never felt like I had a job like other people seem to have; my life was centered around a single purpose. And that was tied up in my career.
I worked at a school. Technically, I ran the school under the direction of the board. A school's purpose is to educate students. But the students at my school had so many obstacles to face in their everyday life that education, in many ways, was just another obstacle for them. I felt that the only way to help these children succeed in school was to 1) make school relevant to their needs and 2) find a way to build hope and resilience in each and every student. I still believe that is necessary for all schools, and particularly for schools that are serving students with a high level of needs. My focus became helping students build better lives, not just through education, but through community engagement/connections, reducing poverty, addressing basic needs, and finding educational opportunities within their lives so that school wasn't just one more obstacle. And obviously, I cared. A lot. Some people have said that perhaps I cared too much. I don't think its possible to care too much, but what I have learned is that you must care as much about yourself as you do about those around you. And that was not my situation. So, with all of my "friends" being the same people who were also in my circle of colleagues (not necessarily at the school, but in the education community), when I left my place of employment, I no longer had a connection to my "friends." And hence, I felt very alone. And usually, I still do.
There were, and are, people in my social media circle who were and are incredibly kind and caring. Some even reached out to me beyond the realms of a social media connection. But I wasn't at a place in my life where I knew how to be a friend to anyone. I was just trying to stay alive long enough to start seeing some glimmer of hope that I could someday be well again. That glimmer of hope is just now beginning to shine. And, in my typical get it done spirit, I took a giant step - a risk - a chance, and applied for a job. No one on my care team has suggested that I am ready to do this. But I am feeling hopeful about creating my new normal, a new life for myself.
It wasn't actually my goal to find work yet. I was, however, exploring organizations in the metro and surrounding communities where I live in Minnesota to see what might be of interest to me. I started by looking for organizations who were ACEs advocates. I didn't care if they were in the early stages of planning for ACEs or if they had a fully implemented program. What I found was that there are not many organizations who list ACEs on their websites as a focus area. My guess is that even those that are in some phase of learning about or implementing ACEs, its just not something they feel they can put out to the public when its still a work in progress. (If you work at an organization that fits that description, I'd encourage you to let people know, because honestly, you're doing something fabulous and its a big deal!) But I did find a few. Somewhere in this employment research phase I started thinking about writing an article about the ACEs movement in Minnesota. That is going to be my next project. I figure it will be helpful to the broader ACEs movement, and perhaps a bit selfishly, it will also be good for me.
One organization I found was of particular interest to me. It was formerly known as Prevent Child Abuse Minnesota and is now named Minnesota Communities Caring for Children (MCCC). ACEs was all over their webpage. In fact, at first glance, it appeared that was all they did. Its not, but ACEs is such an integral part of all of their programs, that you can't talk about any of their programs without talking about ACEs. Even though I was not looking for a job, their home page had a link to a "we're hiring" section. Back to my original reason for researching in the first place, I thought it would be helpful to know what the employment opportunities in this field might look like. As I read the job description, I felt like I had found my perfect job, it was if someone had read my resume and then written this job description. The job title was Director of ACEs Partnerships and Collaborations. Seriously, isn't that perfection? Who in the world of ACEs wouldn't want that job?
I sent off an email to the executive director asking if I could talk to her about a potential article and about this specific job posting. In my mind I was already thinking about all the wonderful work I could do in Minnesota with this organization. But I kept myself grounded. I wasn't ready yet. I was just beginning the process of exploring employment opportunities. And talking to someone at MCCC would be part of that research. The executive director referred me to their in-house ACEs expert and I was nearly bursting at the seams wanting to talk to her. When we were finally able to talk on the phone (this was about a week and a half into my exploration and research process), I learned that they were already scheduling interviews for this perfect position that I had already started to imagine doing. (I should add that visualizing *positive* future outcomes is something I have been practicing in my healing process.)
Something in the pit of my stomach began to churn. This is the perfect job for me. I needed to do something. So I told this wonderful woman on the phone that I would send in my resume before morning. I knew I would need to update my resume and I needed to write a cover letter, but there wasn't much to add since leaving my last place of employment. This wouldn't take me long. And I told myself I didn't need to get too anxious about this because all I was doing was throwing my hat in the ring. If they were already interviewing, they might already have the perfect candidate for my job. (Yes, you can laugh at me now.) I should add that I am also in the middle of painting my house and that day happened to be absolutely beautiful, so rather than run to my computer, I decided to paint until it got dark. After all, it wasn't going to take very long to put my resume and a cover letter into an email and press send.
At 9 pm I sat on my couch and opened my laptop. I hit the power button. Nothing happened. I checked the power cord. I hit the power button again. Nada. I put my ear to the keyboard and hit the power button again. I heard a faint whrrr sound. I checked the screen. Nothing. I held the power button down for a long time and I heard the computer click off. I pressed the button again. It tried to whrrrr. Kind of. Ok. This could be a problem. I couldn't just give up. I have an iPad. Hopefully, I saved some version of my resume on the google drive cloud thingy and I could open it on my iPad, or at least send it from my iPad. I was already mentally re-drafting my cover letter to explain that I had not updated my resume, but I wanted to make sure they had it for consideration of the position they had posted.
No luck. Apparently the google drive thing requires that I put something there, it doesn't just take my documents and add them automatically. I guess I knew that. But I was so, so hopeful that I had moved that one document. I hadn't. I think google should add that feature for people like me who are old school and haven't completely embraced the idea of storing all of their files in something they can't touch or see. I certainly can't be the only person with this hangup, can I? So, let me be real here - I was beginning to think that this was a hell of a time for my computer to die and I was starting to freak out that I wasn't going to be able to send anything to MCCC. And then I remembered that I had printed a copy of my resume when I first started this employment exploration project. I found it. And to my chagrin, my ink cartridge had started to run out in the middle of the document, and by the end, it was out of ink completely. I'd been hoping I could take a picture of it with my iPad and maybe it would look at least legible and I could explain in my cover letter, or in the email with my cover letter, that my computer was dead. I'm not sure it would have looked good enough to send anyway, but now that wasn't an option either.
I decided to retype my resume on my iPad. Have you ever actually used an iPad for serious typing? Did you know that an iPad will automatically try to guess the word you are typing and as soon as you hit any button, back space, delete, space... anything, it will fill that word in even if its not the right word? And since when does the word "about" have any relevance to the word "snot"? Only on an iPad apparently. Its probably worth noting that my resume is about 10 pages long. Yes, that breaks most of the rules about resumes, but there is simply no way I can sum up my 30 years worth of relevant experience in two pages, it is simply not possible. And so I typed and I typed and I typed. I should add that in the midst of the typing there were some cuss words, and even a few tears. But I was getting it done. At 8 am it was finished. I couldn't format it. I had no way to view a print preview. But most of the information was on a document that I could now send. (I skipped a few volunteer items, and a defunct software company that I own... but the important stuff was there.) I knew it looked like hell, but I sent it off. I have to admit that pulling an all nighter to type a resume, or anything for that matter, is not exactly in my wheel house of skills anymore. I had a counseling appointment scheduled for 1 pm, so in some state of relief, pride, and sheer exhaustion, I set my alarm for noon and went to sleep.
I woke up at 11:53 am before my alarm went off. I checked my email. Low and behold there was an email from Becky at MCCC. Was I available for an interview at 10:45 am the next day? OMG. I think my heart stopped. And yes, of course I was available. This was moving very fast. I was still in bed, iPad in my lap, still exhausted and with sleep in my eyes, when I sent my reply. After clicking send, I went back and re-read the email from Becky. Oh Oh... Could I also prepare a 10 minute presentation that would demonstrate my knowledge of ACEs, and could I bring along any handouts I might have with the presentation on a flashdrive? Sure, no problem, if my computer worked. But it didn't. Should I send another email and explain my limitations? I told myself to breathe. I could talk about ACEs in my sleep. I was so tired I actually laughed out loud and realized that at this pace, I might truly have to give my presentation in my sleep.
When I finished my counseling appointment at 2 pm I went to the bank to pull out some cash, and then I drove to the only pawn shop in town and asked if they had any computers. I didn't have enough money to buy a new one. I wasn't sure I even had enough money to buy one at a pawn shop. I live in a relatively small town. I've been surprised that we have enough business here to even support a pawn shop. But we have one. And they had three laptops. One of them however, did not work. So, there were two options. $160 or $225. I didn't even ask what kind they were, I chose the one for less money. Having never been to a pawn shop, I asked about return policies. Basically, unless I go home and it doesn't work, and I can bring it back in a day or two, I'm stuck with it. But at this point, I needed it.
Now, this is the part that gets a bit messy - and is, I believe, directly related to my C-PTSD. I wanted perfection for this job interview. I have not actually been on this end of a job interview for over 15 years. I have interviewed hundreds of people over that period of time, but this was going to be different. And I had started to convince myself that this was something I really wanted. In my goal for perfection, I started to run through the list of things I needed. An LCD projector, check. Laptop, check. Power cord, check. Resume (now formatted and printed thanks to the new laptop), check. I still needed to put together a presentation, but I wasn't worried about that. I had done at least 50 presentations over the past few years, and I had several saved on my google drive (see, I do know how to use that thing!) I was actually more worried about how to limit any presentation to just 10 minutes. What did I consider to be the most crucial points? And how do I demonstrate my knowledge in this small capsule of time? I needed to stand out from the rest of the interviewees.
Before I started cutting down my presentation however, I started down a completely different path for a potential presentation. What if I used one of the therapeutic toys that I had encountered during all of my therapy these past many months? I immediately remembered the "Fulls." Have you ever met the "Fulls?" They are a group of stuffed figures in an array of colors, each with a different facial expression. There's a red scowl-y Full, named Rageful. There's a bright yellow smiley one named Joyful. There's a blue sad one named Sorrowful. And then there's Fearful, Cheerful, and a few others I can't recall from memory. As this idea was forming, I began constructing a story line in my head to go along with the Fulls. I'd hand them out and then ask each of the interview team what emotion their Full was displaying. I'd then use those feelings to talk about the life of a child where all he saw from his caregiver(s) was anger and rage. And what if the consistent and primary feeling of this child was fear? And then... Reality check. I don't actually have this therapy toy. It's at a therapy office I go to in another city. I had no idea if they would let me borrow it for a few hours. Their offices were closed by this time, so I put that on my to-do list for the morning.
Plan B. Yarn. I could give each of the interview team members a ball of yarn. I'd ask them all to unroll half the ball, and then tell half the group to make a scrambled mess of the pile of yarn in front of them. And this, my friends, is the neural pathways in the brain of a child. Half of the group has the brain of child who is living in a caring and supportive environment, and the other half of the group has the brain of child living in a situation that is based in anger and fear. And I could go on from there. Reality check. I need yarn. I have some in my art room, but I'd have to cut it into groups and then the balls of yarn, which I'd have to roll, would be pretty small. Walmart. Walmart might have yarn. There's a few of them on the way to my interview in the morning. If I can't borrow the Fulls from my therapist's office, I can stop and buy yarn. Do I have enough money to buy yarn? I'd better check the prices. Not bad, $2.28 per roll. But am I really buying yarn for this interview, it would be better to actually buy yarn I'd use and that way, its not really just for the interview. Well, if I am going to buy yarn I'd use, it has to be cotton. I hate polyester yarn. Ok, does Walmart have any cotton yarn? Hmmm... some, maybe. But based on store availability, I'd have to be happy with silver flecks in my cotton yarn, and I'd have to be happy paying $8 per roll instead of $2. Maybe I should check JoAnn Fabrics. I looked at the clock on my computer, 6:50 pm. If I order it online, perhaps I could pick it up and not even have to "shop." Shopping, or anywhere there are too many people in a building where I can't immediately see an exit route, is a huge issue when it comes to my PTSD triggers. I pretty much avoid it. I went online and looked, and yes, JoAnn Fabrics had what I wanted. But I couldn't just order it and pick it up the same day. They aren't Walmart or Target. I checked the time again and realized I might have to drive the 40 minutes now if I am going to have yarn for the next day. Do you see the mess I am making of this? This is my brain!
I put my shoes on and as I walked through the kitchen I saw the clock on the stove. It was 9 pm. How could that be? I went back and checked the clock on the computer, 7 pm. I checked my phone, 9 pm. My new pawn shop computer apparently thinks I am out on the west coast. I took my shoes off and changed the settings on my computer. JoAnn Fabrics closes at 9 pm, so there wouldn't be any yarn.
I took a few deep breaths. I wanted to be in bed by 10 pm. I'd had less than 4 hours of sleep the night before. I was outside my "window of tolerance" (I've learned lots of new terms in therapy!) I was feeling pretty vulnerable. I realized I hadn't eaten since the night before. I couldn't remember if I had even been to the bathroom at all that day. I had to get centered. I could do this, if I just took it one step at a time. Keep it simple. I told myself over and over. I ate a sandwich. I went to the bathroom. I took a shower so I didn't have to do that in the morning.
At 9:30 pm, I put all of my technology on the kitchen table together and set it up. The LCD projector worked, there was bright blue box with the word DELL on the wall across from me. I had spare power cords. I hooked up the HDMI cord to my computer. I added the SVGA adapter to the other end and I plugged the blue serial cable into the projector port. The projection now said "searching for input." So far, so good. I found the display panel on my computer and set it to duplicate display. And I waited. Nothing changed. I wiggled the cords. Nothing. I unplugged everything and plugged it all back in. No change. I sat down in front of my demon laptop and checked the hardware. I checked the drivers. Wait, there's no driver for the HDMI port. In fact, I don't even see the HDMI port listed at all I did a quick search online, "how do I test to see if my HDMI port is working?" I followed the steps recommended by the help page I had found. I ended up downloading a $9.99 program that would automatically locate and install or fix any missing drivers on my Windows 10 laptop. I sat in front of my computer as the new program scanned for issues with the drivers. It found 10 issues. I clicked the fix all button. After the first one, I got a message that said I needed to reboot my computer for the changes to take effect. I did as instructed. After the second one, same message. Three hours later and all the drivers were up to date.
I rebooted my computer one last time and hooked everything up again. Still nothing. I checked to see if I could find the HDMI port on the list of hardware devices, still nothing. Even after fixing all the drivers, there was no HDMI port. I quickly checked Target and Walmart websites to see if either of them sold a USB to SVGA adapter. Both did, but nothing was available in the store. I'd have to order it and it would be delivered free to my home on July 5th. That wasn't going to work.
2 am. Assess situation. Plan A: The Fulls. Plan B: Yarn. Plan C: Wing it. Have everyone huddle around my laptop while I talk about the slides? It is what it is.
I set my alarm for 6:30 am. I hung up my outfit on the closet door. I was going to put on makeup in the morning - I hope make up doesn't get old in a year or a year and a half, because its been awhile since I have worn makeup. I brushed my teeth and looked in the mirror. I realized that the blue, red, pink, and purple dye job I had done a few months ago was still evident. Yes, really. I had decided that I had never done any crazy hair color in my entire life. And since I wasn't working this might be the only opportunity I have to do something like this to my hair. Since I couldn't pick just one color, I decided to buy four and make rainbow highlights. I'll wear my hair in a bun. They might see some hints of color, but it won't be quite as shocking as when I wear it down. Problem solved.
I took my evening meds, got into bed and turned my iPad onto the sound of rain and light rolling thunder. I closed my eyes. And then my brain went into hyper drive. What if they offered me the job? Could I ask for accommodations based on my disability? What accommodations did I think I needed to be successful in this position? What the hell was I doing? Should I go to the interview and just tell them about my Complex PTSD and ask them if its even worth interviewing me? No. They might not even offer me the job. Why start with a supposition that they will. One step at a time, if they offer me the job, then I can talk about my needs. They're an ACEs organization, they'll get it. But will they? They are running a business. They have to do what is best for their organization. Is hiring a disabled woman with complex PTSD in their best interest? Should I just call them in the morning and tell them I have changed my mind, that I can't do this.
4:45 am. My rain and thunder storm is still playing and I can't turn off my brain. Somehow, I dozed off. At 6:30 my alarm went off. I re-set it for 8:30. I'm not stopping anywhere, I tell myself, its more important to sleep then to get the Fulls, buy yarn, or try to find an adapter at Best Buy. I didn't need to bring copies for everyone, I didn't even know how many "everyones" there were. I'd just bring the flashdrive. They can make as many copies or email the files out or whatever works best for the people there. All of these thoughts came rushing at once. I was still in a foggy state of sleep. I dozed off again.
8:30 am. I got out of bed. The room was spinning. I felt like I might vomit. I went into the bathroom and threw-up. I rinsed my face and brushed my teeth. I put my hair in a bun. The floor underneath me felt like a ship at sea in a storm. I made it back to my room and sat down on the bed. I tried some breathing exercises. I closed my eyes and focused on a tree house in my head. I imagined the tree house near a stream. I counted as I inhaled 1,2,3,4... and exhaled... 1,2,3,4... The tree house was falling out of the tree. I was falling with it. The world was out of balance. I felt sick. I opened my eyes and tried to focus on the closet door across from where I was sitting. It was swirling around and around. I tried to get up and run to the bathroom. I made it to the wastebasket in my room instead.
I went back to bed and closed my eyes. I tried not to move, hoping that the room would stop spinning. I focused on my breath. Everything will be ok. Just relax. You can do this. Or not. At 12:15 I woke up feeling a little bit better. When I realized the time, I started to cry. I had missed my interview completely. I hadn't called them. I hadn't sent an email. I was simply a "no-show."
I checked my iPad again. It was still Thursday. I had a 1 pm appointment with my case manager and I had an anxiety and depression group to attend at 2 pm in the same building. I got dressed and made it to my car. I opened my email from my phone while I was still parked in the garage. I dialed the phone number of MCCC while I started my drive to my appointments. I left a message with the receptionist saying something like I am so sorry, this was an epic fail, apparently I am not ready to take on a full time career yet. I doubt I made much sense, but she said she'd pass the message on to my two contacts at MCCC. When I pulled into a parking spot in front of the building where I do my therapy, I sent off a short email to both of my contacts just telling them that I was so incredibly sorry for messing up their schedule but that I'd had a full blown anxiety attack.
I was glad to see my case manager right after that, because I was an emotional mess. In some ways, I think I looked like I was doing a lot better than I was. I was able to talk with my therapist without sobbing. But I knew I was holding a lot in. I felt like everything inside of me was shaking. Even standing up to walk so that I could go to my next appointment in the same building was a challenge. My legs felt wobbly. In my group, I decided to share how I was doing first, because I wasn't doing well and I hoped that if I could continue to process, I would start to feel better. After my 20 minutes were up, the next person started sharing their experiences since our last meeting. As she talked, the room began to spin. I was either suffering from vertigo or I was about to have another full blown anxiety attack.
By the time our group ended, I was fighting off the nausea. I told the facilitator that I just needed to stay sitting for awhile until I felt better. Eventually I was able to walk to my car, but everything was rocking again. There was no way I could drive. I sat in the parking lot for nearly 2 hours. There were several moments during that time frame when I contemplated calling 911. I knew my heart was racing, and based on the nausea and my inability to keep the world around me stable, I was fairly confident that my blood pressure and even my blood sugar were low. With the crazy morning I'd had, I had forgotten to take my morning medications, and I hadn't eaten. In reality, I'd had one sandwich over a 36 hour time frame, and I'd had roughly 8 hours of sleep in three days. I should not have been surprised that my body was rebelling against me.
As the world started to settle a little bit I checked my email. And to my surprise I had an email from the Executive Director at MCCC. Attached to the email there was a photo with words. It said:
If you are having one of those days,
when life feels like one big struggle,
breathe and focus on this moment now.
This moment right here.
Read this. We want you to know that
you are a blessing in the world and who
you are and what you do matters.
Promise.
I cried. She should have been angry with me. She had every right to be angry with me. I was angry with me. I had been feeling like such a failure that I couldn't even figure out how I was going to get home from the therapy office. I emailed her back and thanked her. She has no idea how much I needed that message right then. Nor did she realize how much more it meant to me that it had come from her, a woman I have never met but one in whom I was quite sure hated me. I had another email come in from Becky saying the she agreed with the email from the Executive Director.
When I got home there was a friend at my house who was helping me paint. I was going to paint with him after my appointments but I had forgotten that he was coming over. I was three hours later than I had thought I would be. I told him that I was sick and needed to go to bed. In that moment, the world wasn't as mean or as crazy as it had been for the past few days, but I also knew that I had to take care of myself.
If you've read all of this, thank you. I know it was long. In part, I needed to write this to try to put a little more context into all of this processing I am doing. But most importantly, I wrote it because you never know how your actions are going to impact someone. I had three days where everything felt like it was wrong. Three days where I felt like it was me against the world, that I was alone in this battle, and that nobody cared. But I was wrong. I am physically alone, but that does not mean that nobody cares, or that there aren't supportive people. There are. Shelley Jacobson and Becky Dale at MCCC are proof of that. I am fairly certain that they are members here. And I hope that if they read this, they know how much their kindness meant to me.
I don't know who they hired for their position, but I hope that person is wonderful, because he or she is going to become one of my friends, they just don't know it yet. :-)
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