Got the funk

I can't deny it, I am in a funk right now.  The trouble is, I don't know what to do to change it.

I take the right pills every day.  I also take multivitamins, cod liver oil and vitamin C supplements.  I make a conscious effort to take the stairs rather than use the lift nine times out of 10, and walk up escalators rather than ride to the top.

I can't say I don't have enough social interaction, either.  I am forced in my job to be calling people almost all day, every day, and went out to lunch with delegates twice in the same week.  I also went out and performed some of my poetry at the Poetry Cafe's "unplugged" night on Tuesday night, to a warm response.  One of the people there mentioned recognising me from Kid, I Wrote Back in Shoreditch and my recent performance at the festival in Shoreditch park.  Interestingly, after my performance in the park I have been considering giving up on writing and performing poetry since I am really just not that good.

So, then -- what's wrong?  Work continues to get me down, as ever.  Last week, apropos of nothing one day the MD asked me for 15 - 20 minutes.  We had a meeting, and she offered me the opportunity to take up a different role within the company -- to move out of sales and into marketing, because she thought I would be good at it and might enjoy it more.  I was pleased, I thought I would enjoy it more, and would be good at it -- putting the "social" into social media marketing, writing the email newsletters that go out to our community, and hopefully getting some specific time set aside to write the blog I set up for the company but never have the time or motivation to do anything with.

We said I'd take the week to think it over.  And the first thing I had to think about was, what was the salary going to be like in this position?  You would expect that this would be given with any kind of information about a role being offered, after all it would dramatically affect any decision you were to make.  But all this week the most I was able to establish was that it would be "very similar" to my current salary, which given it would be marketing instead of sales, didn't seem to make a whole heap of sense -- how similar could it be if there were no commissions from sales?

I got to have a meeting today, to discuss my thoughts.  And in this meeting today it seemed like in seven days the goalposts had been moved -- where last week I was told I would be starting this role in 2 - 3 months, if I took it, since they'd need to hire and train someone new for sales, today I was told it would be more like 4 - 6 months.  They want to bring in at least 3 new sales team members to ensure there is no dip in revenue.  I also found out that my salary will indeed be very similar in this new role, because I will be expected to be directly generating sales still!  Not through telemarketing, thankfully, but I will still be expected to work on commission and meet sales targets.

This time last week I was happy and excited about the possibility.  Today I feel a bit ripped off.  I have provisionally accepted the position for now, but can change my mind at any time, so will have to keep looking for something else.  And will have to magically find some motivation to look for jobs and apply for jobs and not get disheartened when nothing comes of it.

In her email newsletter today, Marianne Cantwell of Free Range Humans, explores how these days being employed -- rather than self-employed -- is the riskier option.  Her argument makes a lot of sense "With job security out the window for most people, employment is the equivalent to being self employed with only one client (your employer)".  I'd not thought of it like that before, but it makes a lot of sense.

What I disliked about being a freelance PR was the worry of not knowing when I would be working next, or how long I would be between positions.  I didn't enjoy the free time between roles or go anywhere like I planned to because I didn't know how long I had to last for.  Maybe I just wasn't a very good freelancer, one recruiter once told me that if I was any good I would have been offered a permanent role -- and I felt the same way, I longed for a secure, permanent position, somewhere I could stay and grow.  The world doesn't feel that way any more -- the threat of redundancy feels like it is going to be there, and you can expect to change careers, not just jobs, several times in your working lifetime.

With a little thanks due to Gala Darling, in a recent burst of inspiration my girl has started to put into practice her plans for world domination.  Determined not to spend the next 30 years working in an office for someone else, the girl is putting into action plans for her own business -- go to her blog and check it out, because not only is she someone special, but she has some excellent ideas and is really showing the rest of us how it's done when it comes to making plans to break free and go into business being yourself.  Embodying the ideas of Screw Work, Let's Play -- and now borrowing my copy of John Williams book -- the girl will soon be getting paid to play, or in her case be getting paid to be crafty.

It's far too simplistic to blame all my unhappiness right now on a job I can't stand most of the time.  But when you are there and feeling that way 9 hours a day, 7 days a week, I guess it has an effect.  Obviously, I have deeper seated issues I also need to address -- if I was a happier person, maybe I wouldn't let a job get me down.  But I'm just in a funk right now.

The Depression Cure

There has been a lot of media chatter recently around The Depression Cure by Stephen Ilardi -- outside of the health press it has also been featured in the Guardian, attracting the kind of social media attention most authors dream about.

It seems quite a simple premise, instead of prescription (and presumable, non-prescription) drugs and apparently consists of six steps:

• Take 1,500mg of omega-3 daily (in the form of fish oil capsules), with a multivitamin and 500mg vitamin C.
• Don't dwell on negative thoughts – instead of ruminating start an activity; even conversation counts.
•  Exercise for 90 minutes a week.
• Get 15-30 minutes of sunlight each morning in the summer. In the winter, consider using a lightbox.
• Be sociable.
• Get eight hours of sleep

The advice is I have no problem with.  So far, it all sounds like most traditional common-sense approaches.  But I am wondering is what content the rest of the book has to warrant buying it, since you can get the six steps for nothing.  Is there a wealth of case studies, testing these methods on people for whom drugs haven't worked?  As Steve Ilardi is a clinical psychologist, one would hope so.

The author also apprently blames the 21st century lifestyle for an increase in depression.  Conversely, he also encourages people to be more sociable.  I would argue that social media makes us more social, not less.  Social media connects us -- you can share with friends events you are attending, invite a wide and varied list of people to events you are organising yourself, keep up to date with bands you like.  Your circle of friends can now be truly international. 

When I was growing up, if your best friend moved to another school it may as well have been to another country.  If they moved to another country, odds were good you would never seem them again.  Not only has modern technology helped us to make friendships with people physically removed from ourselves, but it helps us to maintain friendships with people we can't necessarily see.

How's that for social interactiveness?  Sure, emails or Facebook messages or Twitter conversations might not be as good as actually seeing someone, but I would argue that they should not be discounted.  To my mind, social media can tick off at least two points on Ilardi's list -- it can give you an activity, and it is social.  Plus if you have a laptop, iPad or smart phone you can tick a third off -- and go outside with it.

Just because I am a social media junkie, and because the subject interests me, I am going to give it a go myself.  And if Vermilion would like to give me a copy of the book I will even review that -- because I'm a generous kind of guy.

The perspective from a cosmic coincidence

In a spirit -- an ongoing trend -- of sharing too much, I've not been taking my medication lately like I should.

For the first few days, I'd barely notice. So I'd forget further. Then I'd notice that things seem, frankly, a bit shit. It brought a sacrastic philosopher in me -- were things shit because I perceived them that way, or was I perceiving them that way because it was true, and I was no longer placated.

Strangely, I've found that doctors have little time for philosophical discussion, or contemplating how it's no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society.

I discovered a detached almost amusement at myself. When I lost my appetite, and really couldn't cope, part of me wondered "just how far can I push this?".

In the end, I found inspiration in a late-night BBC TV programme about space -- with sign language. I was interested to see if there was a sign for "trans-kuiper belt object".

But I discovered that the earth is the only place in the solar system to see a total eclipse of the sun. The sun is exactly 400 times larger than the moon, but by an amazing cosmic coincidence the moon just happens to be exactly 400 times farther away from the sun.

How can you stay depressed knowing something amazing like that?

I'm gonna break my rusty cage... and run

 

My moods are lately cycling between depression/despair, and a kind of almost euphoric optimism.  It's fun for the whole family, I can tell you.  I saw an ad in the morning paper to take part in a clinical trial looking at depression -- "Great," I thought "This is one clinical trial where they won't exclude you for having a history of depression."

As a sidenote, if it wasn't for the fact that I'm a bit of a screw-up and didn't exactly ace the first interview, I am reasonably sure that I would have been turned away from joining the RAF because of a history of depression.

Anyway, I was rejected for the study after all -- because I had psychotherapy last year when I was out of work and depressed.  It was early and I was tired and I should have called it by its proper name of Cognitive-Behavioural Therapy, and it wasn't even what they were asking me about -- which was if I'd ever had Electro-Convulsive Therapy or the like.

But I was talking about moods.  The other morning, as I was walking to the station, I was thinking about the song Given To Fly, which ranks up there as one of my favourite songs ever.  I love the message of an ordinary person discovering unexpectedly an exraordinary ability, and as a child growing up I used to wish every birthday that I could fly.  Sometimes now when I am unable to sleep or just want a distracting daydream, I'll imagine being able to fly and sit up on quiet rooftops in the dark, unnoticed.  I was thinking about that song and how I want to be "given to fly" myself.  Not just literally, but metaphorically -- I want that brilliance, I want to feel that inspired.  I guess I have to be the change I want to see.  Wasn't that something Buddha said?  Either that or it was Henry Ford, and I get the impression those two gents were quite different people.

Where the video comes into all of this is that it's another message that I love and is becoming a mantra of mine -- I'm going to break my rusty cage, and run.  It says I am not going to be confined, I am not going to be caged, I am not going to be limited.  I am bigger than all of this.  I am going to break my rusty cage, and I am going to be free.

Also, for such an inspiring song the video is hilariously 90s.  I love that Absolute Radio have recently lauched their Absolute 90s station (and only wished it played more 90s alt rock), so it's very fitting -- but as I say, the whole thing is hilarious, with the crazy camera work and jumping all over with the guitars.  Thankfully Chris Cornell has got more quietly intense over the years.

Breaking out of my rusty cage at the moment means I have to do something.  Sure, my job sucks and I don't know what else to do -- but in the meantime, what I can do is write more, and if I want to one day do stuff with adventure sports then I need to put down the remote and actually get out there.  We'll see how I get on with it all.

Musings on space

Do you suppose Astronauts get depressed?

I guess they must do, really. Away for so long from the people they love. Away from the earth. The cold emptiness of space. It must do things to you.

But do you suppose the shuttle arrives at the moon on a Monday morning and the other Astronauts are all like "Neil! Neil! We're at the moon, Neil! Get your space-boots on!"
"I don't feel like it. Leave me alone."
"But it's the moon! We've been in the spacecraft for months! You've waited your whole life for today!"
"I don't care, leave me alone. I want to stay in bed."
"But Neil..."
"I want to be a builder, I've decided."

The neuro-virus, and why you shouldn't stroke other people's cats

We take a short break today from the regular scheduled programming -- that is, the forever-delayed posts about the Inca trail -- to instead write about being unemployed. Because hopefully by the time I have written about the remaining three walking days of the trek, I will have a job again and have no witty observations to make on this sort of thing.

Last week, I was sat in the benefits office. Waiting my turn. Smiling to myself every time someone sat down without taking a ticket first. They'd be told they needed to take a ticket, from the machine. But the machine appeared to have no tickets. There would be a moment when you'd see people hover on the edge of getting angry and mouthing off to the claims assistants, or getting more confused. You could almost see them physically teeter on the thin line between them, at which point one of the assistants would instruct them to open the top of the ticket-dispensing machine and find where the roll had curled up inside. Some needed further guidance as to where the end of the roll was. I suspect these people also have a note attached to their clothes for the morning which says "Remember: trousers first, then shoes".

Waiting patiently, if not quietly, one young lady was talking to her friend about the sickness epidemics at her child's school. She told her friend quite earnestly how one child at the school was sick with "the neuro-virus". Why nobody had told this particular young lady just to refer to it as the "vomiting bug" like most mainstream media does, I don't know -- because confusing the norovirus with something that sounds like a brain disease is going to surely cause more harm than good.

They went on to discuss "the swine flu", and how "they say the swine flu might be like the plague, and kill loads of people". It wasn't clear in what sense it would be like the plague, whether it was in total number of deaths or fatalities as a percentage of the population. Nor did she elaborate who "they" were in this case, though I suspect it was either The Sun or The Daily Mail. What she was saying wasn't exactly wrong, there has been media speculation about how many deaths from the virus could be expected this winter, and of course there are conspiracies about eugenics (like those espoused by the rather wonderful David Icke). Just the same, these young ladies didn't seem especially concerned about the possibility of the plague.

Today, the freak brigade were out in force in the post office. I wasn't paying attention at first when I heard raised voices, but after a little while with the counter clerk was explaining to me how long I could expect a first class letter to take if I posted it today (off topic; this is an interesting development in customer service -- I am sure it is only in the last couple of weeks they have started mentioning this and checking you are OK with it) I started listening to what was going on in the line behind me.

From what I could gather, an older gentlemen was having a heated discussion with a much younger man about the younger man's child stroking his cat. What made the argument stranger was that the older gent insisted on calling the younger man "youngster", which coupled with a unique-sounding voice, made you wonder at first if it was someone pretending to be much older and stuffier than they really were. Either way, the young man was getting more enraged and kept telling the older gent to "f***ing turn around and mind your own business". And as I say, there was some argument about stroking his cat -- the young man apparently being angry the older gent hadn't let his child stroke the older gentleman's cat, and the older gent clarifying something along the lines of anybody was welcome to stroke his cat who asked. Perhaps the strife was over not asking permission first -- is it bad manners to touch someone else's cat without seeking permission first? -- or perhaps the child had gone into the man's garden to stroke the cat. I couldn't tell how this related to the older gent being told to mind his own business, perhaps there was a second, more private argument going on at the same time?

A concerned counter clerk shouted over to ask them if everything was OK, they seemed to dismiss her at first, but then the older gent -- whom I then got to see was dressed like a rambler and was carrying a hiking pole, much like the ones I used in Peru (and which don't actually do the same job as a walking stick) -- approached the counter clerk and told her he wanted to make an official complaint. I'm not sure complaining about another member of the public is really very effective. But despite her asking helpfully if everything was OK, she admitted to not having any kind of authority to be able to do something to help, such as calling security or taking the details of the complaint. Instead, he was instructed to go to the Bureau de Change desk for that. Which makes complete sense.

I'm going to be extra careful about stroking other people's cats now, it's clearly a minefield.

In other news, I have a job interview this week. A job doing communications within the public sector, and for which the recruitment process has been ponderously slow -- I was first contacted about it weeks ago, while I still had a job. I have mixed feelings about the job, part of it seems much too junior for me in terms of admin duties and placing stationery orders, but it would be in London and on more money than I was on before, and a job is a job right now.

While I'm out of work, I am trying to see what training I can get on to. I have expressed an interest to the powers-that-be in learning web design, graphic design, digital marketing and while we're learning stuff, I'd like to speak Spanish. It's not often you have the opportunity for free training, and I could potentially come out of this better qualified. On top of all of that, I am also looking at volunteering opportunities -- some local charities need PR, I need something to do. And finally I am looking at giving some time to volunteer at the hospital, being nice to people who need visitors and that kind of thing. It's a role I could potentially keep on even if I get a job quickly. I think I need to do more and be less self-involved.

Jupiter in space agencies' sights

I've been teh suck and not updated nearly enough recently.

I can report that my recent foray into not taking medication has ended. That is, after relying instead on vigorous exercise and strength of character, I have given and gone back. I was beginning to feel decidedly shit and unable to cope at times, so I decided enough was enough. Since I have restarted I still have my moments: short spells of despair, almost sickening bouts of worry and anxiety, but overall I am much better off. We have to admit that there is "something wrong" with me, and really there's no getting around it. It's a little depressing in itself to have to admit it. It might well be a brain 'chemical' thing -- some people are diabetic, or anaemic, and reliant on certain supplements of whatever kind. Perhaps I have a defective brain in a similar sort of way. For the record, I have begun to wonder when I am not taking my medication if previous medical professional diagnoses of bipolar disorder might not have been too wide of the mark. But either way, it doesn't matter.

Also in the news here this week is that despite every intention of leaving my body to medical science -- albeit while I am still very much alive and kicking -- has also met with failure. I was invited to attend a screening for a trial that would have paid me about two grand for my time, trialling a drug for Alzheimer's and ADD. But the time they wanted was about two weeks, and there was no way I could take it off work. This week I discovered that I have no holiday left whatsoever to take this tax year, and only have 13 days available to me to take between April and October. This means most likely that the time I spend in Peru I am going to have to take as unpaid leave -- I can consider that my own charitable contribution.

The obvious drawback of not being able to take part in a clinical drug trial is it is going to be a lot harder to earn money quickly. Possibly less unpleasant, maybe even safer, but more difficult.

I'm still resentful of my car needing £700+ worth of repairs at Christmas. It's no use crying over spilled milk, but I would never have chosen to spend that money frivolously -- not that keeping my car on the road is frivolous. But sometimes I think "I could have bought a great big television with that money, but I wouldn't have" or I think how I could fly to Barcelona and back like 6 times for that amount. Sometimes I go into a record shop just to browse, and I will pause over a CD -- I don't buy myself things often, I'll think. But then the idea of spending the money for no reason makes me feel ill, and I put it back. Like I say -- crying over it (like I did at the time, to my shame) doesn't change a thing, and the girl and I need a car for a whole host of reasons, so it was important. But that doesn't stop me resenting it. Stupid to resent an inanimate object, I know.

Speaking of work and earning money... Dedicated readers who have read my old posts, or longer term followers who have been with me for longer, may remember a post last October when I gleefully announced having got a job. I opened the champagne for dinner with the girl -- a special bottle I had been saving for when I got what I considered a "proper" job, a job that I wanted and wasn't just a stopgap, and that I felt was advancing my career. It was a year's contract, but a bloody good opportunity just the same. We remember? Good.

On Tuesday a notice went out on email to all office staff that there would be a briefing from the MD at 1430 in the conference room. Nobody was sure what it was about, but we were under no illusions: it wasn't going to be good news. I did speculate that perhaps with all the budget cuts and general "credit crunch" doom and gloom they would be announcing that in order to try and cheer up staff and raise morale they would be buying us an office kitten. Shockingly, this was not what the announcement was. In the minutes before the meeting, word got out that there was to be a merger. Nobody was quite sure whether to believe it, or what the details were. I then got blind-copied into an emailed press release from my head of PR. The release was going out to all trade press, announcing the merging of my company and a neighbouring region's.

There was lots of words like cost savings and efficiencies and stream linings, but the important thing to those of us in the office -- and presumably the other region's offices -- is that there are going to be job losses. We expect a lot of the job losses will be higher up -- there will be duplication of various positions, but nobody feels they are safe. We don't know when cuts will be, and we don't even know where this new amalgamated company will be based.

I feel particularly unsettled as my position was only "interim" to begin with. I've had the uncertainty that if the girl whose job I am doing wants to come back after maternity leave, then I would have to find my own way. Now it's impossible to know what will happen to me or to my job, cue random bouts of despair and almost sickening spells of anxiety and worry. I felt very fortunate to get this job, I felt so many times I had been passed over or fallen at the last hurdle when applying for jobs I could do so well -- this to me represented so much. Now I'm afraid it's all going to disappear again.

Up until now, I hadn't been directly or personally too affected by the now-official recession. Fuel costs have fallen by 25%; this meant I had more spare money. VAT was cut: again, more money for me. I was still getting paid the same. But of course it couldn't last forever. I was never unaffected, for months my older brother has been on the brink of bankruptcy -- to the point where my parents have given him all of their savings and more to keep him afloat. Finally he has had to give up ownership of his business, but luckily has escaped bankruptcy. So I was never completely unaffected -- just the same, when it's suddenly your own company, and you and your own colleagues looking at possible redundancy, you feel the impact.

I don't know why I thought I would get away unscathed. I've friends who have been made redundant two or three times in recent years, my own Mum has been made redundant at least twice -- although she usually manages to come back brighter. Which isn't bad for someone with a history of depression themselves.

Anyway. Without ending the post with thoughts of doom, gloom or the like I am pleased to report that having the girl's love and support makes a world of difference, and the next post should really be about valentine's day...

P.S. You haven't missed anything, this post doesn't have anything to do with Jupiter. I was just stuck for a title so I used a news headline.

Action is his reward

I stopped taking my tablets. There usually comes a time about once a year that I decide to go it alone -- that whether or not I feel I need some sort of supplement or whatever, I usually come to some sort of a decision to break free.

This time I've been lucky. The tablets weren't a prescription medication so much as a herbal alternative, and the withdrawal has been much easier and less severe than previous times. I don't know how long these things take to completely leave your bloodstream, but in the past if I've forgotten them for a few days I'd notice a difference, so by now I should be clean.

The reasoning why I've stopped is a little harder to explain.

Since I started this job back in October, I've been on emergency tax, and so been paying out far too much to the Inland Revenue. As a result of this and things like Christmas I've had less money than I'd have liked. I've got a large-ish credit card debt to pay, since in December I had to pay for almost £700 worth of repairs to my car to get it roadworthy, and I'm saving money to get me to Australia this year. When I got paid this month, I must have already been £400 overdrawn on my account, so once I'd paid money for bills, rent, food into my joint account with the girl, I didn't have a whole let left. At first I thought what I did have would be plenty -- then I realised it still had to cover all my own personal expenses for things like mobile phone bills, car insurance, dental insurance...

Not wanting to be in debt again when I get paid next month, I've started to look into my options for earning some spare cash -- just to take care of the little extras. One quick way to earn a lump sum of money seems to be clinical drug trials. Does anybody remember the incident a couple of years back then the volunteers in a drug trial all suffered horrendous consequences and terrible pain? As a result of the media coverage from this nasty accident, volunteers for trials have actually increased -- because people have found out how much you can earn by doing them. I spoke to someone last week about a trial that would have paid about £1,500 for only three nights. This is above average, but just the same -- being a human guinea pig could clear my credit card debt, buy my ticket to Australia, and still leave me with some left over for my monthly expenses.

Unfortunately, I was discouraged from taking the day off to go for the screening, because I'd mentioned on the phone I was taking these tablets, and then admitted to a history of depression. They thought such details would probably preclude me from the trial. So I'm now talking to other companies doing similar trials, and lying through my teeth about my history -- and have stopped the tablets. To be fair, I was worried how exactly I was going to manage to take them every day when I was thousands of feet up a mountain in the Andes, this coming June, and I'm interested to see if my new exercise regime will take their place well enough.

As for the exercise, I've become one of those crazy people who go the gym before work. It's weird, one day I was laughing about the very idea of getting out of bed earlier for the gym, then I ended up with a personal training session booked for a morning, and I was hooked. It's so much quieter, and the endorphins really set me up for the rest of the day. I'm now going about three times a week in the mornings, going to group classes in the evenings on at least two of those days, and fitting in more visits in between.

It's amazing what some kind of goal like the Inca Trail does for my motivation -- just wanting to be fitter, happier, look better in t-shirt only gets me so far, but knowing that every little bit of fitness will help me to enjoy Peru even more really spurs me on. I'm lifting weights, going to 'balance' classes for my core, my balance and my coordination, going to cardio 'body combat' classes again for balance and core, along with that important cardio health, and making random visits to the gym to tackle their punchbag when I have really shitty days. I've even started having dreams where I retreat to the quiet gym and a punchbag when things get to me.

For those that don't know about or don't read my Peru blog (which has been recently updated, following a despicable lapse), my fundraising to date has reached £2,100 -- and with more money promised to me that I haven't collected on yet, and another money-making event planned for before I leave, things are looking good. I see no reason to rest though, and want to raise every last bit I can. I'm currently hitting up local purveyors of hiking equipment to see if they can offer me any support, and wondering if I should cast my net wider still.