Thoughts on autonomy & further reading

Hello there! Long time no see. I haven’t updated in a while because my day job has been kicking my ass. Long story short: back in December I was asked to write an article about a new initiative at the company. It should have been simple. For various reasons, it was not even a little bit simple. They finally published the article this week, but in the meantime I became so anxious that I had a panic attack.

I’ve had panic attacks before—I’m a citalopram girlie for good reason. But I have never had a panic attack because of work. Until now.

When I spoke with my therapist about it, I noted that I wasn’t only anxious—I was also frustrated about being anxious. For me, my day job is simply the thing that pays the bills. I’m not passionate about it, and that’s fine, because it provides me the money and benefits necessary to do things I am passionate about. And more importantly, it provides me the time to do those things. It’s a largely self-directed remote position, and while there are occasional busy periods, it’s not overly demanding.

The loss of autonomy I experienced while writing this article was the root cause of my anxiety. My day wasn’t my own anymore. I was constantly managing other people’s needs, acting as middleman for dozens of tasks and conversations they could have easily accomplished on their own—conversations and tasks that aren’t in my job description. I was beholden to their whims, and my brain didn’t like it.

It made me grateful that I had full autonomy when my parents died. Or at least that I didn’t have multiple demands on my autonomy. Becoming executor of their estate wasn’t something I chose to do, but my job was flexible enough that I could pop out to the bank or take a phone call whenever I needed to. I don’t know how I would have managed it (or more accurately, how I would continue to manage it) without the autonomy granted to me at work.

Which is all to say: bereavement leave should be required by law, and instead of a few days, it should be at least 3 months.

And now for something completely different: here’s some cool death-related stuff I’ve read lately.

Coffin cons

A few months back, a reporter named Dominique Mosbergen interviewed me for an article she was writing about the funeral industry and the FTC’s oversight. The piece was published in the The Wall Street Journal earlier this month: “How the Funeral Industry Got the FTC to Hide Bad Actors.”

My personal story didn’t make the final cut, and now I understand why: my experience with funeral homes was peachy keen compared to the poor souls featured in the article. From what I’ve seen online, funeral industry organizations are furious about this piece. And I get it! It makes all of them look bad, when in reality, plenty of funeral homes are just fine.

Here’s what I’d say: do read the article so you’ll be less likely to fall for one of these pricing scams, but don’t go into every interaction with a funeral professional assuming they’re trying to scam you. I worked with two different funeral homes to cremate both my parents, and they were both kind and helpful.

My only complaint is that more funeral homes should be transparent about their pricing online! Making price comparison calls while my dad was on his deathbed was pretty traumatic.

Obituary ordeals

The other day I came across a horrifying piece by Mia Sato in The Verge: “The unsettling scourge of obituary spam.” Basically, clickbait sites scrape real obituaries and use AI to replicate fake versions of the obituaries that often get information wrong. Then they make money off the clicks of concerned people. Fun!

This is also a good reminder to be careful about what information you share in an obituary—middle names, dates of birth, etc. Identity thieves love that stuff.

Morbid memoir

I finally listened to the audiobook of Jennette McCurdy’s bestselling memoir I’m Glad My Mom Died, and, unsurprisingly, I loved it.

I was too old to watch her Nickelodeon shows, but you don’t need to know anything about them to be moved by her story. (In fact, she would probably prefer that you don’t know anything about them.) Pushed into child stardom by her abusive mother, McCurdy went through hell—from eating disorders to alcoholism—and came out the other side with her sense of humor intact. Or, more likely, her sense of humor is the reason she came out the other side at all. Trigger warnings for basically everything, of course.

I had a complicated relationship with my mom, but boy howdy, McCurdy’s story is something else. I’m glad her mom died, too.