My Depression is Writing This Post

 My Depression is Writing This Post

I don't know how long I've had depression, but I do know it runs in my family. 

I didn't recognize my father's mental illness(es) as, in part, depression, because it looked nothing like TV ads presented it- and this was back in the 90s and 00s, when talking openly about depression was much more taboo than it is today (thank goodness). 

For many years- until my mid-20s- I thought I was just a fucking bummer. A pulsating raw nerve of worry.

And to be honest, I am a fucking bummer. I'm high strung. I wrote two theses about depressing topics (the evolution of the swastika via the rise of Nazism and racism in the US in the 1920s [so, the second Klan, Red Summer, etc.] Today, I listen to no less than 4-5 podcasts that track and de-bunk far/right-wing movements, and three more that de-bunk other topics. I read thrillers and mysteries and books about grisly murder. 

I've been told I'm a know-it-all. I consider it a voracious appetite for knowledge, but you do you, I guess. 

Most of my teen years, I would've called myself an extrovert. Or at least outgoing. Grad school broke something in me, or I settled into myself, or something, but I'm a solid introvert. I do not get energy from other people. They drain me, even the ones I love dearly and miss often. I became shy. 

I am still shy. 

Put me in a crowd of strangers and I'll hover on the margins. The thought of approaching a stranger is a bit nauseating, especially in free fall. If I'm selling you something, or you're making my coffee, I am happy to chat, our conversation mercifully bound by the length of a single transaction.

Otherwise? I'm fucking weird and awkward and too into how much our politics are fucking hell. If we've gone out ever, especially one on one, know that I went home and replayed all of our conversations to make sure I didn't say or do anything weird or shitty, even by accident. 

This is all to say: I've read quite a bit about depression and anxiety and ADD and PTSD- the parts of my brain I did not fucking invite to the party, but often hijack it, throwing a thick blanket over my brain. Or hitting a release valve somewhere, so that I feel like a husk of a person. 

And boy Ms. Debbie Depression is really on one lately, she brought her extended trip bag, she's got her toothbrush on my mental sink, and her clothes are in the drawers. She's been knocking for a while, a fact I know because one side of my neck and shoulder are literally rock-hard. Ms. Debbie slipped in a side door and now she's making herself at home in the forefront of my skull.

And she's demanding to be heard. 

The more I bury her, the louder she gets. The more irritated she gets. The less discomfort she can tolerate.

So, I'm going to let her talk.

My Depression is taking the wheel.

Ms. Debbie would like you all- especially me (who the fuck do I think I am, anyway?)- to know that I am an abject failure as an adult who is no longer in school.

My pride and joy, my Master's thesis: White And Black Womanhoods And Their Representations In 1920s American Advertising (which is at 8500 downloads- feel free to give it a free read)   was completed in 2012- that's a decade ago.

It was nominated for an award, like several other projects I created in grad school. It lost, like several other projects, to a friend- which I am completely OK with. Honestly, that shit was *cutting edge* at the time. Plenty of anti-racist historians and speakers today use many of the texts cited therein. I even used *critical race theory,* a subject I knew nothing about until undertaking this project IN GRADUATE SCHOOL. (Definitely not 1st grade or whatever Chris Rufo tells your mom on Fox.) 

Honestly, I was a great fucking academic. My overanalytical brain both scans out to view trends and patterns, and zooms into the mirco, individual level to understand how those trends affected people's very real and unique lives. I can explain difficult concepts concisely. I live for providing context and making things more complicated (or more accurate, as I like to say). 

But this isn't about my kick-ass thesis or my skills as an academic. 

After all, that was a decade ago, and I did not proceed towards a PhD, although I would've been quite good, if not completely burned out. Even now, ten entire years later, the thought of going back to school makes my stomach drop and roll.

I tried- and still try, ten years later- to get a job in my beloved field. Or any adjacent field. Anything where I could research, write, study. Anywhere I could slot real lives into big trends. Anything where I could say "these beliefs, this pattern has created X results when we want Y results." 

Nothing. 

Honestly, I have never gotten one interview for a job in my field nor in any adjacent field.

Strike that- I had one, for a part time ticket-taker job at a famous museum where a President was assassinated. I got the rejection before I got off the train ride home. I served a single summer at a somewhat related job as human signage before I quit because everything about the job save 2 co-workers made me su*cidal.) 

Yes, USAJobs is the Devil (IYKYK). But I've applied for hundreds of jobs outside of USAJobs, too. I've consulted with resume experts, networked, followed up, even had a meal with a former House Rep., who I listed as a reference. 

And still, silence. 

Just last month, I applied for multiple jobs, doing a task I have done every week for the last 5+ years (yes, my resume reflected this!). Nothing. Not even a rejection letter. (Before you ask, they've already filled the role.)

And more than once, I have stumbled upon a job description that matched, perfectly, my un-edited resume. Not once have I gotten a call.

But be a teacher! You LOVE teaching, you say. That I do. I have never been gladder to not be a teacher than now, during this latest and most absurd attack on teachers and schools. But even before that, in my county, I could not attend the fast-track teaching certificate classes reserved for STEM and language educators, I would have to go back to school for two years because my field of study wasn't in demand. (One local teacher in my field got popped at the January 6 insurrection attempt, I am sure he was a great and fair teacher...) 

And again, two entire years of full-time school, paying full-time tuition to get a certificate in a field where I hold an MA, and a warning that I may never actually be hired because "there's no demand!" isn't appealing to me.

Technically, I can teach at the community college level- but again, because I am a fucking failure who is somehow less qualified than everyone else with the same degree, my resume has languished in those application pools for over a decade now. 

I lack: marketable skills (to be fair, history is a great, albeit underappreciated skill, especially at the MA level), resume/CV/cover letter skills, or both. Probably both. I have tried every "job application hack" in the book. 

And I decided, that actually, I was OK with doing things my way. I always have. I finished my 3-year Master's program with a mere 33% graduation rate in 2.5 years. I did an entire thesis without a real deadline. When shit needs to be done, I do it. I don't need someone looming over me. I don't need pointless meetings. I *need* everyone to get the fuck out of my way. I *need* helpful and honest feedback at pre-decided times, covering pre-decided things. 

I started my own business. How long I claim to have undertaken this project varies- but the truth is simple: it's never once been profitable. 

Not even a little. Not even doing summer camps- although that may be the closest I have been.

I have always had side hustles, PT jobs, freelancing, family support, whatever. 

I even quit a PT job to do my business full time- and maintained a steady supply of side hustles. Even then, with 40+ hours a week dedicated, I did not make a profit. 

I've pivoted that business more times than I can count. I've invested an embarrassing amount of money (somewhere in the 5 figure range)  into: marketing classes, mindset classes, business classes, etc. etc. I have not come close to earning that money back- despite every single coach's promise that I would double or triple my income. (To be fair, 3 x 0 = 0, so in a way, they were correct.) 

As an aside: I think a lot of people who have successful online businesses invest in staff early on- and even so, many of the successful online biz owners I have followed over the years have since moved into 9-5 world. There's no shade or shame in that at all- shit's hard. But as I explained, I am a fucking failure who can't even do that. 

I have tried: virtual events, in-person events, events with community partners, cute cheap stuff, selling in person, selling on social, original media, a subscription model, gift boxes, mystery boxes, kits, personal branding, going Live!, Reels, TikTok, YouTube, a blog, Facebook ads, Instagram ads, and now Google ads, etc. 

Everything but a non-profit (I have no desire to find and manage a board- hello, I live in DC. Who qualified isn't on a fucking million boards already, and who isn't chasing the same, ever-shrinking pool of money?). 

In the event that I have actually sold something, a workbook, a summer camp, whatever, it did not come close to covering my expenses. I don't even pay myself. More often than not, I dip into my own money to make promotional items. I hired someone to schedule my posts, thinking that more mental ease (I fucking HATE scheduling posts) would help. All of that money came out of my pocket, and never once have I recouped- and aside from insurance, my overhead is almost non-existent.

The conclusion: I am a failure at everything I have set out to do since 2012.  

Before you tell me "it's not about the money if you're doing what you love/helping people/reaching just one person!," let me nicely, respectfully tell you: it is also about the money.

A nice email from someone is indeed heartwarming and motivating, but it does not fill my fridge. It does not hire a contractor to fix the hole in my ceiling, it did not help me buy a new car when mine unexpectedly died (after putting $5K into it!). It did not send me on a much needed vacation. It does not pay for my dog's food. 

A lovely testimonial from a community partner *is* nice and it does grant me an air of legitimacy online, but it has never, not once, led to paid work. Instead, I field offers to work for free- to create a custom event, with custom materials, for a group of folks I've never met. I *can* do this relatively quickly, because I am incredibly good at what I do...but my time is not free. It cannot be free. I did not hone this set of skills for over a decade to work for free, constantly. Or to *pay* to work. Yes, I have been solicited by people who would like me to pay my own flights, hotels, food, etc. to present a free workshop for them, in person, across the country. Or a three hour drive away, at my expense. 

And to be honest, it's demeaning. To say "this organization empowers women! Know your worth!" and then turn around and offer me $0 dollars, to refuse to negotiate with a million dollar operating budget, is fucking insulting. 

I should start countering "I will do this work for free as long as you go out first and explain to the young people in your care that they SHOULD know their worth, but we will not recognize the value in Lindsey's work because she does work that we believe should be free/that we don't want to pay for." 

Or "if you want free, try Google. I've found a lot of great activities there to put my own spin on." 

It does us all a huge fucking disservice. How can I stand in front of these people, tell them to know their worth, when I myself am being undervalued? To tell them they too can do what I do- so long as they're willing to pay others for the pleasure? 

No. It's not right. 

No one solicits the head of a major corporation to do this kind of work for free. Or men. (No, I don't mean volunteering, which is something one does of their own accord- nor do I mean a board member sitting on a panel, unpaid- that's part of the deal as a board member.)

Yet, I am asked to give away my expertise with little to no return besides feeling good, and maybe a cute photo for my website (but only if I ask persistently, because I will absolutely forget to take one while I am working) or social media.

And do they ever return the favor by making a whole post about my work, what the kids thought, etc.? No. Of course not. Maybe they'll share it to stories. I've never even been a footnote in a donor newsletter, when those donors paid for the event, where I spoke. 

AND EVEN THEN, I have to hassle people until the zero hour for basic things like: directions, a parking permit (LOL or directions on where I pay to park), the answer to: will I have supplies or do I need to provide my own? It's super fun making a midnight Target run when I've got to be teaching an event at 9 am because someone decided to tell me at the last minute that I will, in fact, need pens and print outs for all 50-100 attendees! "Sorry! We simply can't print that many copies!") 

And I am a fucking sucker, because I keep doing it. Because I believed that maybe my good work, my relentless promotion of the event, my ability to appear easy going and flexible, would lead to being referred to someone else, or brought back to do a paid event. 

The most I got was a return invite to do a 6 hour, all-day workshop for free, and it'd be really great if I could handle printing all of the custom-made workbooks I created too, because that's clearly a lot of paper and ink.

So, even assuming I am willing to write all of those hours of unpaid labor off as marketing for my print projects, my return is shockingly low. Fractions of a penny.

And spare me the "but if you reach ONE PERSON!" shit. 

Because here's the deal: it's hard to write a book, even a workbook with lots of activities and blank space, even when you're an expert. Especially when you're doing everything yourself because you can't afford help. 

It's expensive to print. It's challenging to lay out. It takes time and patience to solicit reviewers, get helpful feedback, and incorporate it. It's hard to set up a webshop that integrates every fucking social media imaginable. It's hard to develop an organic, multi-platform campaign. It's hard to write copy, to set up a compelling landing page, to get enough sales to determine your Cost Per Sale so you can create an ad budget (all while not at all paying yourself). 

It's hundreds of hours.

So when you put 100s of hours of work into something, to sell a handful of copies to people and get ZERO feedback (even when you send out follow up emails and cute surveys and offer one-on-one calls for FREE), it sucks.

Did anyone even read the book?
Was it not helpful? 
Did it just end up in a recycle bin?
Maybe the buyer thought it was a waste.

Maybe the language was too adult? Or too baby-ish and immature? 
Maybe no one fucking gives a shit. 

And! This is something that MY AUDIENCE SAID THEY WANTED. 

Did it reach anyone, then? Except the reviewers I cajoled into it? Who knew they would get a cute gift out of it? 

I don't think that I did .

If you poured hundreds of hours into a project- and tons of time into marketing that project, teaching yourself how to do any number of things related to marketing- and only a handful of people ever even *saw* that project, would you find it worthwhile? 

This isn't human decency, which is always worth it, or a project you're doing to fuck around and pass the time, this is HUNDREDS OF HOURS of your valuable time and expertise, that you intended to sell to an audience as a way to both support them and pay your bills.

To dump in tons of money upfront, and not even cover your costs? 

Even if it reaches- truly reaches- five whole people (which I can honestly say I do not know, because no one who isn't getting a gift of some kind has ever told me my book made any whit of difference)- would it be worth it?

It's OK to say no.

Oh, but I *did* get doxxed once. In my attempt to build an online community- someone, I don't know who- dug up old photos of me, cropped them, and posted them in rapid succession, complete with comments about how ugly, fat, stupid, and disgusting I looked. I still don't know if it was some bored teen (who found my personal Instagram, despite it being not at all connected to my business) or someone I know. 

Oh, and despite doing at least 4 FREE speaking engagements (created from scratch, including hand outs and other materials) and donating hundreds of dollars of products to one organization, they ghosted me when I asked for a short, half-page endorsement letter for a position I applied to. I even provided a sample letter- literally all that it required was pasting the letter on their letterhead, and changing the endorsed name to mine. 

Is it worth it? 

At one point during COVID, I even started the second business I'd been dreaming of. I thought maybe it would be easier to sell a physical product that people understand, with a nice feel-good fair trade component too. A mug. An incense burner. A small piece of décor. 

No. Two years later, I still have pieces sitting in my closet. Beautiful handmade things from a place I visited and loved and admired so much, I wanted to share it with the world. I told them I would order more items and make a donation as soon as I sold the first round. I am well past-due on giving them the money, still holding out that I might sell off those last few pieces. 

Another organization- one I spent an entire day at, and absolutely fell in love with- I straight up ghosted after multiple inquiries. Too embarrassed to tell them that despite having absolutely gorgeous, handmade, unique items with a great story, I would inevitably fail to sell them, and even if I invested the 200-500 it costs to have a table at a popular market, I didn't think I could sell them AND make enough money to earn back my 500 dollars (to say nothing of gas money, personal pay, lunch, etc.). 

I clearly lack some sort of business acumen, because I know PERSONALLY of people doing similar work who have been wildly successful, both in reaching and touching their intended audiences, and paying the bills. 

And the truth is: I don't know how to do anything else.

I can write. I can 'do' history. I can teach. I am a crack researcher and writer. I 'get' teenage girls, for whatever that's worth.

And none of it is worth a god damn thing when I do it. 

If one person rejects you, that's probably on them- but when EVERYONE rejects you, that's a sign that you need to do some soul searching.

I have been rejected by every job, every idea, every new business, every business/community partner who asked me to work for free over and over. 

Every new idea I've had turns out to be WAY too complicated, require too much initial investment, or when I dig into it, turns out to be just plain unfeasible, especially combined with my utter lack of business sense and skill.

I'd love to say, open a cafe in my neighborhood. But holy shit, a storefront is 2600/month, and that doesn't include renovations, espresso machine, various machines to make or heat up snacks, staff, insurance, busines license, getting up to health code, furniture, etc. and that doesn't even touch on the fact that I don't know a god damn thing about coffee. Or how to make coffee. Or how to hire someone who can make coffee, promise them a good and fair salary, and make enough money to pay them, and the rent, and myself, and the insurance and the maintenance, and the marketing...

My hobbies aren't even marketable- which is fine, because they're things I like to do for me. Not everything I do needs to be commodified and sold.

That said, there's nothing I do for fun that I could turn into a career or a side hustle. 

Granted, I am not a fun person, so "for fun" is subjective, I guess.

All of this is to say- or that Ms. Debbie can say- is that there's not one actual professional accomplishment I have made in ten years.

In a decade of actually hustling and trying and shit, I have nothing to show for it. 

Oh sure, I have a copy of a workbook, and a planner or two to hold, but that's not really comfort when I had to recycle or give away almost the full run of what I created. I cried when I unspooled and recycled dozens of planners. 

I don't know how people do it. 

They do, clearly. I see them.

They have staff that they pay. They write and publish books. They throw events that are sold out in six weeks time- I couldn't sell ANY tickets in six months time to events.

They *do* things. And they do them well.

Because whatever I do, when I do it, is worthless and meaningless.

I am not asking to be corrected. You cannot prove me wrong. I have all the evidence I need. 

Actually I don't, because I recycled it. 

And I don't, because I'm not even given the dignity of a "no thanks" rejection letter.

Maybe those few screenshots of kind words I have will be accepted as payment for my electricity bill though.