Monday 16 March 2009

Jobs, Mums and Problems.

Over the years I've found myself less and less likely to engage my Mum in my personal dilemnas. I used to go to her, I used to think that it somehow proved how close we were. Compared to many Mothers and Daughters I guess we are really close and perhaps my turning to her during difficult times would have contributed to that closeness.

I still share things with her, I just no longer feel inclined to turn to her with every one of my problems. She doesn't see my problems like I see my problems and following many a fruitless exchange where all we achieve is to stress each other out, these days I'm a lot less likely to share my times of distress with her.

If I get upset on the phone to her now, I quickly make my excuses and end the conversation. (I do sometimes forget all this, and her ever practical, but 'not quite getting it' type reactions usually remind me of my slip up.) She is best consulted when a problem can be solved with new jeans or sneakers or possibly even new curtains, then she really comes into her own.

So, I'd refrained from telling her about the anxiety I've caused myself over the past week or so with stray emails at work declaring to people I shouldn't declare it to, that I'm very dissatsified in my current position.

Then today I happened to flippantly mention in an email to Mum that

"I need a new job. Like last year."

(by "like last year", I mean this requirement is long overdue, I'm not comparing it to a separate job crisis I had then.)

Her response was:

"you need a new job, not a good time to decide that, but heh you can still look around !! who knows what might be out there."

So, I'm blogging instead of hitting reply, because this is what I wanted to say, but I know it won't end well - like so many other of our problem sharing sessions...

"Indeed the global economic downturn does not make this a good time to need a new job. What an excellent observation and well made to boot.

On the other hand, I've not suddenly decided I need a new job. Rather I have avoided the inevitable for a good few years, but finally reached the end of a certain tether.

Unfortunately my mental health and general wellbeing is not that closely linked to the economic climate. My "sudden" (ill timed?) need for a new job has more to do with my growing despair at how unpleasant I find the majority of my waking hours coupled with the growing realisation that getting out of this job is my best way out of that despair.

No happy home-life or cherished dependents to help me justify the need for my comfortable salary unfortunately, just big aching holes. "


Admittedly even I knew I'd taken things a little bit far with "big aching holes". I thought it was quite a heart wrenching way to put my point though. My home life is ok really, it is happy. I'm sort of alone at home, but thats ok. Well it seemed to be ok and I seemed to be happy up until about a month ago, since which time I've been a bit of a misery guts, to say the least.

So I don't like work and being home alone isn't really cutting it. What to do? Go to the pub? Ha, yes, I'm doing a fair bit of that (or staying in the office typing blogs until 7.45.) They may not be long term answers though.

If I take one thing at a time, finding a new job is a bloody good idea and perhaps my intention to set to that task post haste, was not well expressed in my original statement to mum "I need a new job." So, back to the emails - I was going to say in my reply that - yes as she suggests - I will look at what other jobs are out there, I realise I MUST. She isn't telling me to get on with my job and stop complaining, she is encouraging me to look for other things. I would have got around to thanking her for that encouragement, had I not already decided to post my thoughts here first instead of send the reply at all.

Because these were the things that screamed at me from her message, things that got my heckles up:
  • "God girl, you do pick your moments."
  • "Don't do anything hasty now Jo."**
  • "Have a look for a new job, because you won't find it and perhaps you'll see things aren't so bad after all."
**yes, there is a definite unspoken reference to when I last left a permanent job in 2004. I just packed the old one in and turned to temping as an alternative. She is right try and dissuade me against trying that rash course of action again (even when she does say it in a read between the lines kind of way.). She doesn't need to say that out loud anyway, I had believe it or not, noticed the economic downturn. I do know things aren't great for temps and I don't think I'd go down that road again. After all, that road led here.

Anyway think positive. I will look for that new job and I will find it. Even if it means a bit less cash, I'll find the job that makes me smile again...

Sooner or later... with or without a recession on.

4 comments:

  1. Oh dear. You and your big, aching hole. I had that once, after drinking something a bit funny and waking up 16 hours later in a strange motel room with a coalhole where my a*se used to be.

    Why not look upon your present predicament as an unprecedented opportunity to peer into the dark core of human suffering?!

    I’m not convinced that a change of job will magic away your unhappiness, and I’ll tell you why.

    I’m highly educated, academically and commercially successful and I don’t really want for anything. I’ve even (recently, I should add) been given the opportunity of – if not the perfect relationship – something better than many of my friends and acquaintances seem to enjoy in their partnerships.

    Despite all of this, I am plagued by what can only be described as occasional attacks of intense fear. I don’t mean anxiety, or anything like it. I mean a visceral, profound feeling of sheer terror and dread, that appears to be rooted in an underlying belief that, no matter what I achieve, the entire exercise is pointless. I will die, the Earth will continue to revolve, and I shall have left no mark in one hundred years other than, perhaps, a distant memory or an anecdote.

    When this first started at Oxford and I became very (clinically) depressed, I moved to Imperial. I felt better, for a little while. But then I finished my PhD and the depression worsened, so I started buying freeholds. That made me happier for a while, but then the curse was back and I started playing around with other business ventures. This has just gone on and on, until I can’t seem to get off the treadmill. It’s certainly the case that I can handle my depression better than I could when I was nineteen, but that same dread and terror (despite outward success) is always there. For me at least, it’s not about the job.

    Anyway, just some thoughts. In the interim, try drinking Wife Beater until your head spins.

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  2. Interestingly enough, senior management in my company has decided to crack down on slackness in timekeeping. Amazingly enough, everyone decided to toe the line rather to try to find another job elsewhere. Guess we're all stuck where we are (lottery winners excepted). Hang in there!

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  3. Thanks for both stopping by to comment.

    Norm, I am lucky in that I don't have to get to work on time. Most people at my place arrive between 9 and 9.30, but any time up to 10 is acceptable. I tend to waltz in a bit after that, 10.15, maybe 10.30 ish. On particularly disorganised/despondent mornings making it for 11 is a struggle. That is frowned upon, but no f*cker ever really says anything. Not for a while anyway. If they did clamp down on time, I'd be screwed. That might be the last straw. It would be completely reasonable of them to do so, but I might not cope.

    I think I could arrive on time for a job I liked, if I had to...but there are no guarantees.

    Barry, How sweet of you to find me here. I think this has really upped your stalking potential. Something to get your teeth into. lol. Should have guessed someone would point out that big aching holes sound rude. One of the things that put me off emailing that to my mum.

    Your depression sounds immense. I mean I was really just having a grumble about being lonely and having a boring unrewarding job. I hadn't got fixated on the pointlessness of existence as a whole. I probably will now. That isn't going to make it any easier to get out of bed in the mornings is it.

    Ho hum crack open another can of wife beater then.

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  4. Come on Ogden! We want more outpourings from your troubled psyche.

    Let me start the ball rolling. When I was little (well, about 25), I used to bite the legs off spiders on one side so that they'd run around in circles.

    I had a terrible revelation on Tuesday. David Cameron pointed out that White Lightning cider is not actually cider at all, but fermented corn syrup. This came as a bitter blow; all these years, I'd been thinking about it as a health drink. In fact, in many respects, I considered it to be superior to an Innocent Smoothie. I'm having difficulty coming to terms with the fact that I was wrong.

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