Somehow I made it through the evening last night without “misbehaving” with food, i.e. eating off plan. So, that is “Day 2”. That’s also a miracle not of my making.

I was so disappointed, in myself and the situation, and also so physically exhausted that it was pretty impossible for me to see any good in the day.

My husband insisted that I tell him everything that happened and he also insists that there wasn’t anything in what I relayed to him that was “wrong”, “bad”, a “mistake”, or “problematic” in any of my answers in the interview. He also reminded me that I was texting him in “real time” during each break in the process (when I was on my own) and that those updates in the moment weren’t anywhere near as pessimistic as my attitude had become.

He tried to convince me I was just being hard on myself because I was so tired and so beaten down from this depression and anxiety. He also said that it sounded to him as though I had done everything well and if I don’t get this promotion it won’t be because of any fault on my part but just that there was someone else who had more qualifications.

We also talked while we made ourselves dinner (mine was scrambled eggs) about how much I wanted to eat cookies and pancakes. I was trying to explain to him how using it to numb out my anxiety and sadness was obviously a long term problem but that the prospect of not having to feel so bad right now was still so incredibly appealing and that there are times when the need to just make it stop hurting trumps the knowledge that you’ll pay for it later. He asked me what a “good” husband is supposed to do in this situation.

After thinking for all of about 2 seconds about the question I said, “A “good” husband recognizes that there’s an emotional need under there that needs helping. He doesn’t encourage the cookie eating, but he doesn’t judge and make it worse if the cookie eating happens.” He nodded.

I warned him there might be cookie eating. To this he simply nodded again.

After dinner he helped me write my “thank you” notes to the interview committee that I’m going to deliver today when I’m at work. They are pretty good. Then I went to bed at about 9:45 pm.

I confess I was utterly miserable and couldn’t shake feeling utterly worthless and like a failure.

As I lay there waiting for the sleep-aid to kick in and whisk me away to peaceful oblivion my husband asked me if I’d eaten any cookies.

Me: No. But not for the reason you think, not for the right reason.

Him: What does that mean?

Me: I didn’t eat the cookies because I was too afraid of the shame that would come after.

Him: I don’t think it matters. What matters is that you didn’t eat the cookies. You made it through without them.

I think he might be right but at the same time I don’t like living in fear of shame so I don’t know how well that reflects on me in the end.

I’m going to have to wait a month to know who gets the job. They have two more candidates to interview over the next 3 weeks and then HR has to move it’s painfully slow gears to “make an offer” to the candidate they choose.

I hate the waiting.

I keep thinking that if they’d have been doing this hiring process in May, when my depression will be gone, I would have knocked it out of the park!

I have to stop thinking about this. I have to move past the past and just let it go. I can’t do anything else now except accept how things turn out.

Grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change (the past and the choice the hiring committee makes), the courage to change the things I can (myself – stop beating myself up), and the wisdom to know the difference.

Today I’m hoping that wisdom will come… and with it the forgiveness.

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