Struggles

I love running. I love being in a race and being faster than other people, beating them, passing them. I love that feeling I get about a mile in when the run suddenly starts to feel great (anaerobic metabolism finally switching over to aerobic metabolism = running feels easier). I love thinking of myself as A Runner.

But sometimes it is almost impossible for me to get out the door. Not just because of snow and cold – I have the clothing and gear to conquer that. My depression can sometimes make sitting in bed and not moving seem like the best possible option for the day, whether I have to study for the NCLEX or go for a training run or get some errands done. On these days I forget that running actually makes my depression feel better, helps me feel more energized and less likely to sleep the day away.

I’ve been going back and forth in 1.5-2 week bursts: I’m on schedule with my running, and then I take five days to sit on the couch all day. Rinse and repeat. Signing up for two long races (halfathon and a Ragnar) has certainly helped with this, but I don’t have it figured out yet.

I felt extra upset at my depression diagnosis on Monday. For my new job as an RN (whee!) I had to supply my future employers – no contract signed yet – with a document from the nurse practitioner who oversees my meds and therapy. This document had to give her opinion on my ability to handle stress. In other words, because I have mental problems, will the stress of being a nurse make me crack and kill a patient?

I got the letter, brought it into the office, and asked to see someone who could explain why I had to do this. I did not get a good answer. It was a whole lot of “This will protect your license.” Okay, how? What is the mechanism by which YOU having this piece of paper protects MY nursing license? “Well, it protects your license.” Round and round in circles we went, my lips getting more and more pursed.

I was so humiliated by this request. Humiliated and frustrated. They didn’t need this letter in order to make disability accommodations – I don’t need any. I don’t have diabetes mellitus, where my coworkers would need to know where the orange juice is kept in case of a hypoglycemic episode. I have Major Depressive Disorder, and now my employer wants – and I quote – “to be involved in [my] ongoing care.” None of your business. Please get your nose out of it. I do not need your help with this.