Rough Day
The depression is coming in waves. The dam finally broke today and I began sobbing. I had realized that the emotions come then I make up a story for them. I tried to figure out why the sadness in the first place. I don't want to make a story in my mind to fit the emotion. I want to know where it is coming from and what it is and deal with it. After a couple of attempts at stopping my imagination from running away I finally had some success and quieted my mind and just let the feeling come.
The sadness turned out to be about work. I realized too late in the game that I was caught n the middle of a pissing contest between my boss and my bosses boss. I had arranged a meeting with the program manager for the new project and voices my concerns and asked questions. She is simply not hearing me or doesn't care. There is nothing more I can do. I will be moving to the new location against my wishes as well as the wishes of my boss and the outside evaluator who agrees that attempting to merge the 2 programs will be a failure.
The program manager asked me if I had seen the new cubicle space they had created for us. She took me to the room where our cubicles are. It is half the size of my current space. There is no shelf , just a tiny desk with enough room for a laptop and a phone. There is only one drawer on the desk, I am used to four. The cubical walls are high. It will be like sitting in a phone booth with the door open.
I feel like I have been slapped in the face. I built that program up from the ground. I have worked my ass off for four years. They took the proposal that my boss wrote and changed a few words then used it to get their grant. Their model of service delivery is different than mine, their criteria is different. It is like saying that an oncology department and an orthopedic department are the same because they are both medical. Their program is waivered, mine is not. We serve different populations.
Fuck them. I need to just suck it up I guess. Still, I feel insulted and crapped on.
I just kept crying and the crying was ok. I needed to get it out but I began to feel trapped and like I should die. I called my daughter and asked her to meet at a coffee shop. I knew I wouldn't get out of the apartment or my head on my own. It helped to see her and get out. Now I am home again, doing laundry and the sadness keeps coming at me. I feel discouraged. I feel ashamed for some reason. I feel fat and alone and scared...what else...oh...angry, discouraged, helpless.
This is so hard.
The sadness turned out to be about work. I realized too late in the game that I was caught n the middle of a pissing contest between my boss and my bosses boss. I had arranged a meeting with the program manager for the new project and voices my concerns and asked questions. She is simply not hearing me or doesn't care. There is nothing more I can do. I will be moving to the new location against my wishes as well as the wishes of my boss and the outside evaluator who agrees that attempting to merge the 2 programs will be a failure.
The program manager asked me if I had seen the new cubicle space they had created for us. She took me to the room where our cubicles are. It is half the size of my current space. There is no shelf , just a tiny desk with enough room for a laptop and a phone. There is only one drawer on the desk, I am used to four. The cubical walls are high. It will be like sitting in a phone booth with the door open.
I feel like I have been slapped in the face. I built that program up from the ground. I have worked my ass off for four years. They took the proposal that my boss wrote and changed a few words then used it to get their grant. Their model of service delivery is different than mine, their criteria is different. It is like saying that an oncology department and an orthopedic department are the same because they are both medical. Their program is waivered, mine is not. We serve different populations.
Fuck them. I need to just suck it up I guess. Still, I feel insulted and crapped on.
I just kept crying and the crying was ok. I needed to get it out but I began to feel trapped and like I should die. I called my daughter and asked her to meet at a coffee shop. I knew I wouldn't get out of the apartment or my head on my own. It helped to see her and get out. Now I am home again, doing laundry and the sadness keeps coming at me. I feel discouraged. I feel ashamed for some reason. I feel fat and alone and scared...what else...oh...angry, discouraged, helpless.
This is so hard.
Replies
I\'m sorry, Cecil. I feel sad and angry on your behalf. Even if you have to suck it up in the short run, I wish you a gratifying revenge in future, on the theory that living well is the best revenge.
Even though the reasons suck, feeling the sadness and crying and crying is a big accomplishment for you. This is the fruit of your steadfast effort and endurance.
Thanks Donna. The work situation is causing so much stress on top of trying to work through my other \"stuff\". The new med isn\'t really helping but I think the depression is caused by the situation.
I can relate so much with the work stuff. It seems like the good guy always finishes last, while the manipulative people move ahead. I hope you start feeling better soon. :)