I feel the knot loosened just a little bit, enough to write right now, I think.
In the last two days I’ve had important conversations with my in-laws and, most importantly, my parents. My elders have many flaws but I do not doubt I am loved. My mother has been especially attentive. Now we’ll see what kind of help they can give me.
I hate asking for help. What on earth could I even give in return right now?
Last week I assertively asked for help from my Vocational Rehabilitation counselor’s supervisor.
(Vocational Rehabilitation is a State-run and funded agency that helps people with disabilities achieve their goals for employment and independence.)
The supervisor had reached out to all the the clients on how they could help during the pandemic and I responded that I had not ever been contacted by the job placement person, despite the fact that my counselor told me twice she had made the referral. Apparently the referral had gotten lost. Of course it had (this is a government agency after all).
Well, the email got forwarded to the job placement coordinator and he gave me a call shortly thereafter. We had a very pleasant and productive 30 minute phone call. He seemed to know what he was talking about and told me the employers for the jobs I had been applying to were just sitting on applications and weren’t actually actively hiring at the moment.
COVID is to blame for most of it, but not all.
I sent him my resume and a record of the jobs I’d applied to recently and he got back to me a few days later with a job lead. It sounds like something my work experience has qualified me for and the company had reached out to Voc Rehab for prospective employees, so they already know I have a disability (which has it’s plus and minuses, of course).
I expect to hear back sometime next week.
I’m going to send my coordinator an email every week asking him if he has any new leads and send a brief list of the jobs I’ve applied for so I can get more feedback if I’m looking in the right places. He hasn’t asked me to do this, I’m just going to do it to be annoying. No, not annoying. It’s not annoying to ask for help, Quix.
If I do get an interview he said he’d take a look at the job description and do mock-interviews with me. I think that’ll help me a lot to get over nerves and figure out how to present myself.
I am less hopeful about actually getting the job than I am about the fact that someone who seems to know what he’s talking about is motivated to help me in a practical way, which is exactly what I need right now.
In other news I’m decluttering my room. The house is very cluttered. Embarrassingly so, and that includes my room. It’s taken it’s toll out of me because it’s not just cleaning, getting rid of stuff I don’t need requires thought. It’s really hard to decide what it is I actually need, which is why I have so much useless stuff.
And none of it sparks joy (that’s for you, Marie Kondo).
Hmm, that’s not true. I do have a few things that makes me happy. As far as I’m concerned I could get rid of almost everthing I own that doesn’t fit in two large suitcases. Don’t tempt me because I might go on a purge in which I throw out things I’ll actually need later on.
There are still big things coming up. Next month I’ll know whether or not we can renew our housing lease. We need to get the house okay for inspection. To be honest, I’m paranoid that they’ll decide not to renew with us. I have a good reason for my paranoia: we moved twice in 2 years because our last two landlords kicked us out to sell their homes. This meant moving homes, neighborhoods, and schools. My children still have not recovered (my daughter ended up having to go to three different middle schools).
Then there is a pesky thing called income. Next month we’ll find out if it’s continuing, which is dependent on my husband’s disability income, which is being re-evaluated at the moment. Don’t get me started on the $1,200 of medical bills I owe for my daughter’s hospital visit (collections have started, shit).
My in-laws have agreed to the kids going over for a couple hours each day. For them to get out of the house (isolation is severely effecting all our mental health) but also in order to get on a reasonable schedule. We kept staying up later and later until we were completely on the night shift. It was fucking with my head. I’m a night owl but being up that late made me constantly question what time (I’m sure it was even worse for the kids).
I cannot underestimate the toll all of this has had on my mental health, especially the pandemic’s role on aggravating the whole situation. I’m alive, but just barely it feels like.
Yes, the knot has undone just slightly. Enough to write right now. It’s because I asked for help.
As usual, thanks for reading.