Well, Christmas is upon us again and I’m back to being myself. Which is to say, certifiably insane.
I do a good job of hiding it, I’ve come to realize. Which maybe isn’t helping me much. I should be seeing a therapist weekly, but I don’t have the money, and I can’t really outwardly prove how much I need it.
So, buckle up. Here comes the “rant”. I’m going to pick at my scabs and re-open the self-inflicted wounds that is my work history. Where to begin?!
What seems like many a moon ago, I had a part-time job at Pet Valu. The fact that I could barely deliver on that job should probably have been a clue, but hey. I digress… So, we’re coming up on Christmas, and I’m having trouble getting to work on time most shifts, but once there, I’m engaged and doing my job well, maybe even making a friend or two. Of course, the manager cares less about that and more about my lack of punctuality. Something I am realizing is one of the symptoms of my Ergophobia, or, Social Anxiety (Ergophobia is the fear of work, which is of course rooted in social anxiety).
Think about people who are purposely late to dates, or who don’t text back or are very noncommittal in relationships. They often do this as a means of beating you to the rejection. Just apply this to work, and voila! You’ve got a recipe for a life of failure.
This might explain why I am often jealous of those people. They often have no problems keeping jobs, but relationships? Phew. Still, at the end of the day, a job allows you to support yourself, a relationship, does not. I’d rather have relationship phobia, at this point.
Any way, I have gone WAY off track. So, at Pet Valu, we get a new part-timer. I’m told that this young lady is here just for seasonal help over the Christmas holiday. However, my spidey-senses are tingling. Sure enough, she hits it off with all of the staff, and, unlike yours truly, is rarely late.
In an attempt to stay professional while simultaneously calming my own nerves, I approach the manager to ask if I can still expect to have the same hours after the Christmas holidays, she assures me that yes, all is well and I will not lose any hours come the New Year.
Let’s fast-forward to the New Year. I head off to my first shift. I think it was January 2nd, or something like that. It’s Monday morning, I believe. I go in, ready to work, and immediately get called to speak to the manager in her little makeshift office in the back of the store. I’m sure you know what’s coming next… I get fired. I’m pretty devastated. I know, I know, I can hear you A-types and well adjusted folks saying – well it’s your own damn fault for being perpetually late! Yes, well that may be, but it doesn’t really matter now, does it?
Regardless of the reasons, I was assured that all was well and that I was not about to lose my job. Instead, I found myself feeling a lot like that tree, only, with bills and shit to pay. Jobless, rejected, abandoned. The rug pulled right out from under me, after being told that it wasn’t going to happen, and right after Christmas.
Now, I’ll save you from further torture and skip the other sob story of losing my first “real” job a few years ago in a very similar fashion (being told all was well and then coming in one day, only to be called to speak to HR or the supervisor and sacked). The result of these many different job failures has essentially been workplace PTSD. I have been working two days a week (already missed two days), for the past three weeks. THREE WEEKS ONLY – and already I have had a major panic attack. Oh, and I won’t bother going over how I lost the last full-time job I had, roughly a year ago now. Suffice it to say, it was in a very similar “rug out from under you” fashion. Only this time, I HAD NOT BEEN LATE ONCE. Assholes.
./÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷ bn
Whoops, sorry. That was my cat. Moving on.
Maybe I will find a way to make a living based on my plethora of mental illness. You know, become a female comedian or something, like Maria Bamford. I’ve thought about that, but, hilariously enough, successful comedians are typically successful because of their OCD and work-alcholism. They are usually anxious in the opposite direction – meaning, they are ALWAYS early, hate being late, and spend more time being productive jut out of an anxiety-driven need to always being doing something. Of course, these people are also exceptional in some way, and beloved by many.
So we rule that one out!
Of course, it doesn’t help that I grew up surrounded by well-adjusted pillars of strength and integrity. I think I am deathly afraid of disappointing my parents or ever seeming ungrateful in any way that I freeze, finding it difficult to move in any direction due to all the perceived opportunities to, well, fuck up.
It’s funny, because I’m not necessarily a shy person, or even an introverted one. I may have social anxiety, but I have no trouble being in large groups, or even speaking in front of a bunch of people. I have a decent grasp of common sense, and I’m insightful and fairly intellectual as well. I have good manners, and know how to conduct myself in public. I just get extremely anxious committing to a job, and subsequently, being trapped there when I find myself wanting to blow the place up because, the clock is ticking, everyone is working like little minions at their desks, and HOW IS THIS LIFE?!?!?
Phew. Sorry, almost let crazy pants out of her little closet there.
UPDATE TIME
So, I’m finally doing it. I’m going back to school. I’m going to go back to College, not University (because, let’s be real, I’m no academic). This time, it’s for Graphic Design.
I had seriously considered full-blown University for Humanities, because, Philosophy and all of that awesome stuff. However, the commitment involved is, frankly, immense. I don’t believe I have it in me.
So, with taking Graphic Design instead, I hope to find my tribe and meet other like-minded, creative weirdoes and do something like creative brand consulting, web design or something of that ilk. Something where, hopefully, I can work from home, or at least feel like I am in more control of my level of success or failure. Basically, I can’t fire myself… Yes, I can fail, but at least I will see it coming. I hope.
It is worth a try. I think the first test will be seeing if I can handle having a commitment to go to almost every day. That will be hurdle number one. I guess after that we’ll have to see whether it will be more medication trials, therapy, or both.
However, in the mean time…
Ballbag & Taint 