Lipstick and Shoes - the reality of interviewing

Recently I interviewed for a job. I've interviewed for quite a few in my job search, but this one is of particular interest to me, meaning I want it more than just for the money. The chance to be partly in charge of developing a new collaborative program based on a new federal grant, would be such a great experience. Sure it would come with some icky "to do"s like evaluating agencies and figuring out requirements of the grant, and creating a handbook for each part of the program. But I know the experience would only advance me in my career as I'd be working with professionals in the child welfare community, the city officials, and federal representatives. Plus it is my interest area - child welfare (working to reduce exposure from violence towards children and working to reduce their risk if they already have been exposed).  It's what I want to do with my life.

But I'm not ranting about this just because of the job possibility. I know that jobs are few and competition is big in the social work community right now, especially for higher paying jobs. I know I have a small chance based on my lack of experience. I'm really wanting to talk about it for a different reason. I want to present some thoughts I had as I got ready for my interview and after. Given my lack of experience,  other factors need to be in place in order to put me ahead of the pack.I would suspect that many of the things that ran through my mind are based on the fact that I am a female. Unfortunately, so many things that happen in my life do come with the understanding that women are held to slightly different standards then men when it comes to leadership and the work force. Sure it's getting better and those who are hiring in the social work field should be more aware of such bias, but it doesn't change the fact that underlying things is a different interpretation due to sex alone.

As I got ready for the interview I tried to remember all the things I've read about how to make a good first impression. This is important right? Regardless of how good any of us are at reserving judgment, it's difficult to avoid any assumptions on that first interaction. Do I wear pants or a skirt? Jacket or no jacket? what colors send the best message? how should the garments fit as to be attractive but not too attractive? The facts are that these things do make a difference. Females who are found attractive are more likely to get employed and make others comfortable. Recently I heard about a study that pointed to the fact that if you have a visible disability or unattractive facial feature that the interviewer is more likely to only remember the feature and less about your interview - reducing your chance at the job. Colors, pants, and skirts also send a message - jackets are seen as professional and point to leadership; bright colors say you are open minded and kind or joyful; while black and neutral say you are more serious and disciplined. How do you choose from what seems like all good features to present?  Skirts vs. pants is another story. The trend now says those females in pants are seen as better professionals. They must not be too tight, but must fit well enough to be attractive to your figure. Having coordination in your choices is important as to appear "put together". Trendy aspects can be seen as immature. Even hair style for a female becomes complicated. Do you put it up or leave it down? Does your style say that you are out of touch or too youthful? Or does it say you are professional? Good as long as it's also attractive. Makeup shouldn't be too much, but enough to make you look like you have energy and again...are attractive. It's alot of information to digest. It should be noted as well that the type of job makes everything a bit different, just adding to the confusion.
I chose to go with a light blue shirt, black jacket, and black pants and shoes. I wore a long semi trendy necklace to draw attention to the jacket. My makeup was neutral in color and my hair was only partly pinned back. Was this the right combination for these interviewers? I had two male and two female interviewers - wonder if I had the right combination for all of them.


Now post interview thoughts....
Not unlike anybody else, after the interview I ran through the questions in my head and came up with better answers. Nerves usually make us forget something we knew we wanted to say or say more fluently.  But also in my mind is whether my answers showed the best combination of caring and leadership. As a woman I can say something about facilitating a group of professionals and be seen as harsh, while a male with the same answer may be seen as strong and controlled. If I laugh and have eye contact do I seem like I'm trying to flirt? A man would only be concerned if it made him look weak or if it would be seen as approachable. I also tend to concentrate more on the processing parts of a job - pointing to the strengths of making people feel comfortable and having their views heard for example. Would a man say something different (my guess is yes) and would that answer be valued more despite the fact both answers are correct?  I worried if the men found me as strong enough. I worried if the women found me non threatening. No woman wants another strong woman to enter ranks and threaten her standing with the organization. Through their individual lenses, did my skin color make a difference. I look more like clients. Did they see this as a good thing or a bad thing? Do they hold stereotypes about my reliability and work ethic?

I was left completely uncertain on how I would come across to my interviewers. I told myself that I know enough about first impressions to have tried to reduce the risk of bad impressions and maximize the good. However it all lies in how the interview group sees things, what they want to see, what they think of men and women, and their experience with nonwhite employees. I sure hope they give this average looking Hispanic woman, with limited experience( but confidence) a chance. I do not want to have to go through this whole head game again.

So here's the thing....

So here's the thing about depression. When you are in it, you can't make yourself (or it is extremely hard) do the things you should do to help you get out of it. Course saying get out of it is somewhat horrible to say in it's self. But some things: exercise, being around friends, going on your day to day normal, good sleep schedule. etc does help.  It is not until you feel some relief from it that these things get easier. That is where I'm at. And now I have the energy to keep going and do all those things above that I need to do. It's such a cycle - both in getting worse and in getting better. I have to believe it is my education about my condition and my experience with depression that allowed me to take some baby steps in climbing out. For everyone it is not that simple. I truly believe most people are not educated on how to make the baby steps, to be proud of the small successes.  Just telling myself - "yeah but you didn't sleep all day like you wanted" and "look you made it through the day and took care of your kids and self" helped. I tried not to kill myself with negatives like what I wasn't doing. It was a long battle in my head, but in reality only a month or so. It's knowing that the end of the depression is possible that people need to hear about. It's a day to day thing. I think of it like an addiction now. Day to day. Then before you know it you are finding that you are better and the "bad thoughts" are not as often. I know it's a battle I will forever live with, just like an addiction, but it helps to appreciate the breaks from the tough moments.

So that is my rant on my feelings of late.

So what is going better and driving me upward? Despite some negatives, like difficulty in pining down a job and financial problems, I am finding some things to give me that old confidence and drive again. I've hit the photography thing hard with my extra time at home. It's hard to explain how much it means to me. It's something that is "me".  Everyone needs an artistic outlet no matter what it looks like and this is mine.  Every step of it is fulfilling to me. I enjoy connecting to people in the photo session, editing the pics, and seeing what great shots we got, editing the pictures, and seeing the response from the those in the pictures and others as well.  It's an amazing feeling when you see others accept something you put yourself into. This is why I think everyone needs an artistic outlet - because it is these things that put the "you" out to the world.  There is a certain comfort in that.  Even those artists that received negativity historically seem to find a comfort in cementing who they are through their work.
I used to think I'd get back into photography on a more professional level only because I needed to. Because Jimmy was a part in founding Freestone Photography (my maiden name), because we enjoyed those photo shoots together, and because it was the day he died that we were supposed to do our first paying gig (a friend's wedding)....I thought I would owe it to him.  I found that preserving the drive to do it again was not that easy. It was not until now that it felt right. It is still somewhat about connecting with my brother Jimmy again, but even more it is about connecting with the other brother involved - my brother Joey - and about me. It's not the same as it used to be. I now understand that it doesn't need to be.  This doesn't take from the excitement, it just makes it more real. Now I'm in a spot where I can embrace the reason I do it again.


The other thing I'm doing is getting back to doing the school thing. My dept head worked hard to give me five months to finish my old work and get a good draft on my Independent Study. It's a blessing that there are people out there who believe in me, even when I couldn't. With this and with the photography, it is most about accepting myself. Just when I thought I had done this, I found that I really didn't in so many ways. I now accept that I'm not emotionally perfect. I now accept that I can't always do everything I set out to do on a perfect time line with perfect execution. Embracing that I've had a bad year and am still sane - that's acceptance. I've re-framed my emotions by realizing they are the same ones that make me tear up when I watch my kids do something for the first time and that make me love so hard.

So I guess what I'm saying is that instead of running away from the past year...I'm finally not trying to distract myself or deny how hard it was - I'm just accepting it as it was. And embracing that it changed me.  I talked for the first time about Jimmy and all I've learned in front of a group on campus.  That sort of says it all. I need to grow, learn, and share. I'd love to do the same about my Bipolar some day.  Till then I have all of you who read this to share with. Thanks for listening.

That in between space

So...it's been awhile. As it would turn out I ended up going through quite the depressive episode. School not working out, jobs not working out, kids being sick forever, all of it I'm sure added to it. But let's face it- I was sorta due. I forgot how bad it feels. The only good thing I can say is that I now know it won't last. I know I cycle and it helps a bit to take away from the overwhelming negativity.  Depression, for me anyway, equals isolation. Not just isolation in person, but in many areas. Creativity and all things associated were not going to happen. I had to concentrate on getting up and doing the day to day for my family after all.  I'm still not in the clear, as I know I'm still depressed. But I'm not crying three times a day and that is a plus. New meds and a little self talk goes far. I'm back in feeling like I can fight mode.

Unfortunately this post then acts like an in between of sorts, getting me going again. Making blogging a part of me again. I wish I had the time to catch up on all your posts that I watch. But playing catch up in all the areas of my life I ignored is already a tall task.
I wish I had more positive things to say right now. Wish I had some great subject to talk about. But I don't. I guess right now anyway, I'm just still holding on. The good things I have done, however, have happened on my fb page. I've posted quite a few notes on racism and I've created a page for my photography "business".  The sort of ambition it takes to do these things are a good in between from depression to "normal". I don't have to talk to anyone in person, but am starting to venture into that creative mind of mine again. Depression is so odd for me - I'm so motivated in my mind, so creative, so adventurous - yet my body and my emotions keep me back. I do feel as if I'm finally starting to crawl out again though. So watch out world ;) 
Till later

crazy, but getting better

I talked to someone recently who made me realize how far I've come in the last year. This person had called to vent and I'm pretty sure they will end up with my diagnosis (I'm pretty much qualified for that now).  As I talked to her and calmed her - related to everything she said and let her know she's not alone; I found myself very relieved that I wasn't in that spot anymore. I had almost forgotten how terrible it was.  She was all over the place, depressed and angry, annoyed and unable to sleep. Anxious and not knowing day to day if she could handle other people. And not sure of her emotions anymore or where they even come from. I don't talk about my diagnosis very often - but I am open about it. I have Bipolar II. This is supposed to be the "lesser" Bipolar. But it really isn't any less hard to deal with. 

The best way I can explain me getting better this last year is that it felt like all of my life i was someone else - like my emotions and then my thoughts would creep in and not let me be who I knew I could be. There were moments that "clicked" and I was doing great, but the in betweens were mostly me being over anxious or depressed or totally careless. It's like my whole life I was looking in at me. And now finally I feel like I'm settling into my body and being myself more and more. One would think this would be wonderful and it is, but not easy by any means. Because now I have to figure out what is me all over again. It's exhausting to change old habits - mostly how I think. It's hard to take care of myself all the time - therapy, meds, routines, thoughts, etc. And then there is the not knowing what is growth and what is my being hypomanic. What confidence is real and which is not? If I hit a low for a day - is this a sign that I"m going to spiral or just an emotional bump or is it even normal? I'm sure these things will figure themselves out as I grow.  But it is a weird spot to be in. I technically have a psychological illness and I long for understanding from others about it (which I know is never completely possible for most). But on the other hand I know I'm capable of way more than a diagnosis could show and I fear being treated any differently. One more thing I have to sort through. But the toughest thing lately is dealing with stress differently.  I used to get through life by ignoring my feeling and pushing through. I took control and thrived because of it. I was anxious and emotional,but just kept going. And now I feel things and I deal with them - that kinda sucks really. It's so much better than before and I feel the relief from it, but it's still new to me. Healthy coping is so much harder. But because I know it's healthier I move on. I just get heavily confused in the meantime. 

I guess the intention of this blog is not to teach people about Bipolar II or somehow represent what alot of us go through. It's just what I am going through and I felt like writing it down. A tiny insight into my mind of late.

Happy Tired

I've had some days to mentally break down a bit after the realizations about my school plans being on hold. I'm settling into acceptance I suppose. You see, I hate change - even good change. I also hate being wrong. So this obviously threw me off. But I've accepted that if my meeting with my adviser doesn't create some wonderful exception or answer to my "problem", I'll make it through. Jeremy is rolling with it which helps me to hold back the guilt. I've begun to reframe  the whole situation as well. Perhaps this is God's way of telling me that my timing is off. Maybe I need the time to work on myself some more, to have a mental break of sorts. And perhaps the extended timing will make me a better social worker when I'm done, than I would have been otherwise. The financial bit will get figured out. I suspect I'll feel better about that in time as well.  Things have timing and I'll accept whatever the universe gives me. What really matters anyway, right? The day to day joy with yourself and those around you far outweighs deadlines and salaries.

Today I not only felt all these things, but also had them reinforced.  We had my oldest son's belated 'invite his friends' birthday party today. We had been at the lake on his original birthday. The whole day surrounded getting ready for the party. Baking cakes (I made a LEGO one this year), filling up water balloons, wrapping presents,stuffing the pinata,  and loading up the cooler with sodas and ice cream sundae essentials. Not only was Tommy excited but Adam and Isabel were as well. "Is the cake done yet?"; "Can we hold a water balloon? Can we throw one at the dogs?" ( I of course let them).  "Is it time yet? How much longer?"  Although I felt busy, it was so much fun to see how excited they were for what many would consider a pretty 'cheap' party. I'm a strong believer in the fact that you don't need a fancy water park or crazy kid restaurant to make a child truly happy. Sometimes it's the simple things that us old folks did as children that are the best memories.

The party was great. Family that had not been at the lake with us and a few of Tommy's closest friends (not too many, cuz honestly that gets to be nuts).  Although the number of attendees was low for today's standards, you never could tell from the amount of fun and laughs that were had.  As parents know, parties can suck the energy right out of you - usually we fail to enjoy them very much. But today was not like that for me.  I was able to be in the moment and enjoy every bit. This is another new thing for me.  I've struggled with anxiety and mood swings so terribly that I usually obsess about perfection and worry about talking to other parents and worry that my kids will be happy and, and, and....
Today I was able to take in some very good memories -

• The boys throwing rocks into the coulee despite the sign that says not too. (I'm such a rebel) Something great about seeing boys have that natural young competition and teasing about something so simple.

•  Watching Jeremy and Uncle Justin trying to get the pinata over the tree limb - using Auntie Carol's flip flop as an anchor and Tommy's friend for some height. Then watching the kids jump every time one piece of candy fell out till it actually broke. And enjoying the laughs watching each other swing at nothing. Then of course seeing them all scurry and end up with more than enough candy a piece. 
• The water balloon fight....You can't watch that and not laugh. Misses and bounces and hits all. We had them do it old school dual style, back to back, and count. The balloons had been scattered around the huge field so they had search out their ammo. They ran around that field so much, my tummy hurt by the time they made it through the 70 balloons (which by the way does not last as long as one may think)

And when it was all done, my Tommy was thankful and happy  without 100 dollar presents or fireworks. It was a good day. I needed a happy tired for once. 

Fricken Life...

Sometimes people tell me how strong I am because I reveal things about myself that others might not.  But like everything else in life, it really it is more complex than that. I think part of it is all the growth I've done in the last year. I've worked really hard to like myself more, to get in touch with what I want in life and from others.Nothing like a personal tragedy to throw your world into a mess of self realizations.  But some of it comes from a place not so expected. It comes from a place of self protection. I've come to realize that if I am more honest, with not only myself, but with those around me, that I no longer have to wonder if they like me for who I am.  My self disclosure, therefore, allows me to trust more - an issue I struggle with.  Of course, being the complicated creature I am, this disclosure is in itself is not perfect. I have a hard time admitting in some areas of my life that I'm less than perfect. That slowly ingrained part that has unrealistic expectations of myself prevents me at times from not only admitting my mistakes to others, but to myself as well. And this is why the last few days have been so hard on me.
A little background first:  I had a very rough spring semester last year. I had of course, felt that I was invincible and could pull of the semester in the same fashion I had pulled off my whole college career. I survived an anxiety disorder, babies, miscarriages, buying a house, family drama...all life could throw at me and still stay above a B average. So naturally why couldn't I do it this time around? right? Well as life does sometimes, it said to me - yeah right, think again woman! The court proceedings over the man that killed my brother constantly threw me into confusion and grief. Keeping focused on school or anything felt harder and harder.  I thought I was just being not strong enough. That was until the therapist I had been seeing weekly for a year recommended I take the step up from my Dr., to a psychiatrist for medication.  This had taken some time to do as some of my mood stuff could have been connected to my brother.  Not to my surprise really, instead, I was diagnosed Bipolar II. I won't go into what that is, but will say that it made sense to both me and my therapist it turns out. It explained so much of the high emotional ups and downs in my life - even though my childhood was crisis after crisis and makes some things a little fuzzy on what was at fault when. Since I have been struggling with ongoing mood swings and adjusting medication.  I ended the semester taking Incompletes for my classes - I concentrated on attending classes and keeping up with content. It was all I had in me to do at the time.  I even had to ask for help from my professors.
        On to now:  It's hard to admit, but although I've had the entire summer to work on my missing work, I haven't done much at all. It's hard to look back and say it was one thing or another. I could say it was that one hypomanic phase I had where I drank a little too much and was a little too social and wrapped up in doing things that were fun - but that lasted only two weeks. No the truth is that I just didn't. And now I'm approaching deadlines with a fury of studying.  Just when I start to think...ok. I can still pull this off, my instructor in charge of my internship hands me the crappy news. I can't enter into my internship with the Incompletes still left unfinished. If I do everything by September sometime I still get the grades, but I can't intern. So now my putting things off throws all my plans out the window. The next internship that would be possible is not until summer again he tells me. How can my family survive two semesters. We had been living on excess aid and an awarded stipend, only one more semester would have been fine - now what? It's so hard to admit that I really messed things up. That much longer till I get a good paying job and even worse now I have to find a crappy job in the meantime. It's a scary thing not knowing how much financial strain I have put on the family now or how things will turn out. I think about Christmas for the kids, doing the rotation of payments to bills (just enough so they don't get really mad), having to be unhappy with whatever work I can get. It feels terrible.  And I cried alot over my stupidity.
                                                                              
   Just as much as I have these feelings, though, I have another set of feelings that set in for a moment or two. The feeling that says "fuck it! I've worked way harder in my life than most people ever have to think of. I've had to be responsible way too early for not only myself but for other people too.  I've done good with my life till now and never messed it up. I deserve this mistake. "  I start to think about all the stories that are wrapped into those few sentences. And for that moment I think I'm one hundred percent right. I had the kind of childhood that may not have been filled with physical abuse, but that really messed up how I see the world. Plenty of emotional and psychological abuse done so cleverly at times, it took me a long time to even call it that. I was forced to be an adult incredibly too early and take care of everyone else - when all I needed was someone to take care of me.  I was never taught to do things from a place of empowering  independence or for my own need's as the family needed me to do whatever I could for them.I'm scared of success because I don't know what it looks like. Even today I never trust what a family member says to me fully. "I'm going to get you this for your birthday" - not going to happen. "we had to move again because the landlord has some college kids willing to pay more for the house" - not true. And these are the smallest of lies I dealt with. Although I'm finally learning to separate myself from all that madness that was my raising and to create healthy boundaries with my family - the truth is that all of that still sits in me somewhere,. Sure I've gotten over most of the specific incidents, but not the effects it has had on me, And this is where the "I'm due" shit comes from. Not only was it hard to survive childhood and somehow be strong enough to do well at the time; but it has remained hard (even in a good marriage) to do all the normal things in life since then. I know now some things were a struggle because of my mood disorder (again a present from my family - gotta love genetics) but I know so much more was due to the garbage I carried around from them.  As a result, my adult life has been a very hard road, as I've had to struggle with the smallest steps to create the bigger successes. From making friends, to college, to balancing a family and work, all of it seemed to have to come from so much internal work and courage. I've been constantly scared and unsure of what I was doing, and scared to take any credit for the successes. This brings me back to the "fuck it" moment. Why should I, in all I've had to do, be the one to struggle again? Why can't someone save me? Why can't I just take some time and not think, not deal with the harder things in  my life like expectations and deadlines? When do I get to just be!? I want to walk around with a big sign telling everyone how hard it was for me, what I've lived through, so they get it - get why it would be called a success for me to have come this far.

The facts are that crappy childhood, hard lessons, diagnosis, or bad hair day - it doesn't matter. It's still my responsibility to pick up and try again.  I still have to admit that this time it was my own doing and I must get myself out of it. I also have to do it in a way of self acceptance (this is the hard part) and allow myself this human mistake and grow from it.
Thanks for "listening".

And the Grief goes On...

I know that this blog would be a way for me to express everything about me, unfortunately as of late I just want to write when something strikes me on a more serious note. So for those who follow me I do hope you can stick with me. I'm sure I'll lighten up some day. Or maybe not- I'm such a processor.
What got me today was what I like to call a "Jimmy moment".  They often come out of nowhere. Sometimes they are almost predictable - like on the anniversary of his death, but more often than not I think I'm stronger than I am and they catch me off guard. Today I delivered a card from my Tommy to a service for his friend's mom. She had died unexpectedly from an unknown health condition. As I walked into the funeral home, I didn't think it would be hard as I had been to a number of funerals since my brother's death. His wake and funeral both had to be at St. Mike's however, as the funeral home couldn't hold the number attending. But as quick as I could make the card delivery, it still was enough time to throw me right back to my only memory in that place I'd like to forget. The moment I first saw my brother after he died. They had cleaned him up a bit so we could see him. I remember thinking that this would somehow make it more real. I knew I had to see him - I couldn't wait to.  But looking back it wasn't real at all. It confirmed to me somehow that it wasn't a case of mistaken identity. For the most part, however, it just wasn't that real. I couldn't even cry - just tell him that things wouldn't be the same, touch his hand, put my fingers through his curly hair, and tell him that I love him and glad he hadn't cut it like he had wanted to. Needless to say, seeing him in my head that way...thinking of the whole process of my grief..made me drive home in tears.