Loopy, Lonely and Lost

Posts Tagged ‘employment


Posted on: November 4, 2013

Another job has become available at my workplace. The day it was announced, my boss’s boss came up to me and asked if I’d seen it, if I was considering it, that she thought it would be a good move for me. My boss is determined to help me, mentioning it regularly, trying to help me make plans for the application, saying he’ll help where he can and get others to help me too. I feel like maybe this is more a sign he’s good at his job, than anything to do with my chances.

It is a good opportunity. Probably better than the other one I applied for so disastrously. But how am I supposed to apply? How am I supposed to go to an interview? Most days, simply saying, “I am good at A, B and C” is an impossible aim. I feel that I could do this job, although I don’t have all the requirements, but I don’t know how to express my suitability, or how to convince anyone to give me a chance. I usually just let my work do the talking, but that isn’t good enough in a situation like this.

The people I work with closely see something in me that isn’t really there – or, if it is there, it’s sullied by shyness and self-hatred.

I don’t know how to say no. What excuse can there be for not applying for a job I’d like to do? A job my superiors think I can do. A job involving more responsibility and more freedom and more money. A job opportunity that’s arisen only a couple of weeks after the company gave me an award, which has resulted in everybody at work knowing who I am and what I’ve achieved.

Talking of the award – it stares at me accusingly from across the room. The feeling of not deserving it, of not being worthy, is like a weight on my shoulders. I know I sound ungrateful but I can’t help but think a terrible mistake has been made. It can’t have been meant for me.

I feel pretty close to hurting myself. Something to balance out the undeserved reward. Something that would prove to me that I know what a fraud and a failure and a useless person I am. And if I could do something drastic, injure myself or make myself ill, so I could avoid work tomorrow, then all the better. Because I’ll get in and my boss will look up and give his hopeful smile and ask if I’ve thought about it, if I’ve printed off the job description and drafted the application, and I don’t know how to get out of it, or if I want to.

I don’t know how to explain that to apply for a promotion feels like arrogance. I don’t know how to explain that I feel completely worthless, and that some weird process in my brain means that praise only enhances that feeling. I don’t know how to explain the rushing of the blood round my body, the frantic thud of my heart and the lights that flash in my eyes when I think of doing this.

I really want to run away right now.

Yeah, you read that right. I have a job. I start in three weeks.

It’s not necessarily ideal. Not particularly exciting.

But it seems interesting, challenging but not demoralisingly difficult, and it seems like a happy place to be, full of friendly, laid-back people. And there’s the money, of course – not brilliant, but it’s comfortably above minimum wage, with plenty of potential bonuses. And it seems like something I could do – a job where I could actually cope and learn and have ideas.

And, well, I’m not entirely sure what I want to do with the rest of my life, so I might as well fill the time while I’m deciding doing something that’ll look good on my CV (experience, and training, and proving that I am actually slightly employable). And if I never make a decision, at least I have a job.  Read the rest of this entry »

I was at work today.

I have to say, I’ve really been enjoying it. I have various activities, etc. to run, but most of the time my plan for any day I’m working is:

  1. Talk to strangers
  2. Be enthusiastic

And that’s really no hardship. Read the rest of this entry »

Just over a week ago, back when things were good, I had a brief phase of rather compulsively applying for jobs. Because, y’know, it’d be fun, and it’d be something to do.

Only, of course, as it always does, my past enthusiasm and motivation have come back to bite me on the arse. Because now (and if you’ve read any of the self-indulgent twaddle I’ve been writing here for the past few days, you’ll know what kind of a state I’m in now), I’ve been getting emails from the people responsible for the jobs I’ve applied for. And it turns out that, in my ridiculous frenzy of last week, my applications, covering letters, etc. weren’t perhaps as garbled as I’ve been imagining in the time since my mood turned for the worse. Because I’ve been getting emails. About being on shortlists (shudder). And (really massive shudder), they want me to do things, to prove I’m the best person for the job.

So, on Wednesday, I’ve got an as-yet-unspecified writing task to do, in order to progress to an interview. Which isn’t so bad, I suppose – unless they ask me to write about my thoughts or feelings, because I think you know what kind of drivel that brings out in me. And on Thursday, I’m taking a short (pfft! Two and a half hours!) trip into one of the more menacing circles of hell. A trip involving the triple horror of “a group exercise, written questions and a short individual interview”. A trip for which I am asked to dress “smart/casual”, which I can only presume means something other than the pyjamas and increasingly-lank hair of the past few days.

And I’m more than a little tempted to send them brief but polite emails saying that I’ve changed my mind and don’t want to be considered for the jobs anymore. But I’m more than a little terrified that they might ask for reasons. And also, perhaps if I do it but get turned down, then any future self will be a little bit more reluctant to go around throwing me into shitty situations. And there is the fact that, should the currently-seemingly unlikely happen, and I decide to actually stay alive, then I probably do need to actually try to have some form of employment, because I could really use the money (I get so frightened and ashamed of asking for my parents’ help), and should I actually become a completely different person and decide to stay alive for any meaningful amount of time, then it’d be useful to have some sort of evidence that I am capable of holding down any sort of employment.

Only, I’m not, am I? And my chances of getting a job when I’m half-convinced I’ve forgotten how to speak, when I can hardly raise the energy to get out of bed, and when I can think of few more frightening things than interacting with strangers, are slim.

Gaaaah. Nightmare.

I’m so tempted to pack up my belongings, throw away my textbooks and call up my parents and ask them to take me home. Then spend the next few weeks, months, years – however long it takes – curled up in my bed and just forgetting. Read the rest of this entry »

Since more or less everything I’ve written here lately has been along the lines of “waaaaaaaah! I’m saaaaaaaaad!” I thought maybe I’d write here when I feel okay. Don’t worry, though, fans (?) of complaining. There’ll be plenty of that, too.

All in all, right now, I’m pretty chirpy. And within that general pretty-chirpiness, there’s a constantly slightly-undulating mood.

Read the rest of this entry »


My name is Laura. I was once told that I have cyclothymia. This blog is mostly where I write about living as a person with extremes and instability of mood, and the history of a life that led to the development of those symptoms.

I complain a lot, I'm very repetitive, unreliable, and I tend to contradict myself.

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August 2020