I
wonder if I can write what I wanted to earlier or yesterday, I am mentally
exhausted. I do not recall ever being this permanently tired. My workplace is
completely draining me, but not because of the workload. That is the one thing
that I can handle. It is the politics, and every single time the HR lady and
Works Manager talk in the boardroom, the atmosphere makes everyone think that
they are going to get sacked on the spot, because that has been happening a
fair bit lately. You are constantly left thinking, “Am I next?” and Gemini has
become the HR lady’s best friend. All of the written warnings and new policies
come straight from there (they are all written in America English and I used both
ChatGPT and Gemini, and I can clearly identify the writing style from Gemini,
in exactly the same way that someone would notice my writing style compared to
a colleague or friend). In fact, the HR lady made me so mentally unstable that
the doctors told me to take a week off work. I can’t afford to take a week
unpaid, but I did take off two days (the last Monday and Tuesday of the last
full week of August). The doctor that I spoke to over the phone was incredibly
unhelpful. He said take a week off work, as you can self-certify for seven
days. He said that if I continue to struggle at work, they will put me on
incredibly strong anti-depressants, so that I no longer feel anything. I don’t
want that. I like having emotions. I spoke to the Works Manager about it, when
he did my return-to-work and he said they just make you constantly drowsy and
you literally feel absolutely no emotion at all.
I was lucky enough to get a job
interview on Thursday afternoon for a Business Support role. I have never tried
so hard for a job interview before. I researched and had ChatGPT help me work
on possible questions that they could ask me and I hand wrote out four whole
pages of notes, and I came up with five questions to ask them. Oh and the
recruiter said there was going to be a numerous and literacy exam, so I had it
give me percentages and ratios that they could, potentially ask me. The interview
was very weird. They only asked me to give a brief overview of my career
history and that was it. It was more of a personality based interview. The
literacy questions were easy, but the numeracy questions were for babies – what
is 10 + 15, 30 – 12, 6 * 4, if one tin of paint costs £5, how much do 3 tins of
paint cost, and if you start work at 08:30am and leave work at 04:30pm how many
hours did you work. Well, I found out yesterday evening that I didn’t get the
job. Not because I wasn’t good enough. I was apparently the candidate with the
most and strongest experience. They didn’t hire me in case I wouldn’t react
well if a colleague shouted at me. Hello! Why didn’t you ask me how I cope with
conflict in the work place or if I have handles difficult personalities before?
Guess what? I worked at a solicitors for four and a half years. I got shouted
at, swore at, told that I was pathetic and didn’t deserve my job. I was told
regularly that I have the world’s most annoying voice and if clients hear me
speak then I would lose the company business, and that they had hired people
with an annoying voice before, but the difference between them and me is that people
actually liked the previous person. And guess what again? They hired a guy.
Despite this being incredibly sexist, most men do not stay in administration
roles longer than six months. They progress. You didn’t ask, “Where do you see
yourself in five years?” like everyone else does. Because I saw the guy who you
hired. He is a cocky guy in his mid-twenties, who very likely lacks attention to
detail, will smooth talk his way to a higher position, make lots of mistakes,
but you ill keep him, because you are a flirt and you like how he speaks to
you. However, you will need a new administrator.
On the way to my interview, my
brain imagined my ex-partner hugging me. It really made me smile, and it gave
the confidence that I needed to get through the interview.
My doctors appointment on Friday was completely pointless. Yes, he said I don’t need antidepressants, but he also made me feel like my current situation is all my fault. He said to take two weeks off work, unpaid. I said I can’t. One) HR will say that I am not mentally capable of my job and sack me and two) I need income in order to pay my mortgage and bills. The doctor said to look for a part time job. Again, I said I can’t. I have a mortgage, insurance, council tax and utility bills to pay. He said, “You should have thought of that before you bought yourself somewhere.” Yes, I know that a lot of autistic females only work part time, as their husband earns enough money for the both of them, but one) if I had a partner I would never make them have to be the sole provider so that I didn’t have to struggle and two) not having a partner isn’t my personal choice. I want a relationship, to be married, to have special anniversary years, to have known each other more than half of our lives. I am just not lucky enough to have ever met someone that wants that with me - and it’s not through lack of trying. Even the doctor agreed that it was too late to make that happen. I’m always going to struggle, because I need a full time job, in order to pay my mortgage, tax and bills. I don’t understand what else I am supposed to do. It isn’t my fault I am stuck at a company with incredibly low morale, the managers admit daily that they hate the place and want to leave, one manager admits to applying to other jobs daily, a handful of people cry at their desks, because the atmosphere makes everyone fear for their jobs and HR gloats that she loves the power that she has over people and the thrill that she gets from sacking people. She has sacked 8 people in less than a year and three others have resigned. The HR lady exclaimed throughout the day, “Ooow, I love it!” I am trying to leave. I really, really am. I am applying to jobs with my exact same job title and am getting a no back within an hour.
I really wanted to find
the time to write up the dream that I had about a week ago. I did start, but I
scribbled too many parts out. Then I wrote it out again yesterday, when I was
in a teeny-tiny bit of a better mood, because I thought that I might be leaving
my workplace, but then it got wet on the way home, and some of the writing
smudged, and I spent last night applying to 14 jobs and another one this
morning. I had wanted to take a picture of my writing, and have Gemini
translate it into text, which it has done wonderfully before. It even tells me
that my handwriting is incredibly clear and easy to read! I haven’t had the
mental energy to re-write it or type it. Nor have I really found the time to. I
am typing little bits of this in between answering my emails, because the
middle day of the month is always the slowest. So far, only three hours have
passed, and it really feels like five should have, because it feels like it
should be lunch time. How is it only 10:38am?
I really wanted to reach
out to my ex-partner to ask if his is okay, but I know that I can’t. I miss the
person that he was when we first met. I did not like the person that he became.
Part of me hopes that the old him is still in there somewhere, but the scary
realisation that the old him may no longer exist and the new version of him
responds and makes me feel mentally unwell is too much of a risk to take. Maybe
the person that I met was the person that he thought he wanted to be at the
time. Relationships are incredibly hard work, but when someone puts in 180% of
the effort, when the other person only puts 20%, and to be met with, “There
isn’t any point in texting you, because we just say the same thing,” when I
communicate with the same level of effort is completely heartbreaking. I was
never after a lot, just the bare minimum of communication for a relationship to
work. You can’t treat the communication of a long-distance relationship in the
same way that you can if you live together. If you want the low-level no-technology
check-in of an in-person relationship, but you do not see each other to
experience the none-spoken communication, there isn’t anything left. I really
do miss the old you. I want to send him a cuddle. I know I told him that I
couldn’t cope and I had to stop talking to him, and it is true. The
situationship style of communicating makes an non-anxious person anxious, so
for someone who struggles, it makes me mentally unstable, and I can’t have
someone in control of me like that. I do not want that version of him back, and
if that is the only version that exists, then I do not want to hear from him
ever again,
I had to clear my
cubbyhole out for the water meter to be replaced (I use too little water, and
they had to fit me with a meter that I can’t alter, despite me not doing that,
but they thought that I was). While moving everything out, I found the box of
my ex-partner’s things. They are things I had bought for him that I never got
to give him, presents that I did give him that he left at mine, and things that
he gifted me. I want to hold onto them, in case there is a way that we can be
friends. I know he very likely has someone new (and from my experience of
people moving on so fast, he is probably already lives with his new partner and
is engaged by now, because everyone moves on that quickly after how slow I take
things) and I would never want to interfere with his deserved happily ever
after. It doesn’t mean that I don’t want to ever rule out us begin friends one
day.
The water meter
replacement went relatively smoothly, in the end. It was a good thing that I
stood at the window from 7:45am until he turned up at 11:15am, because the
engineer drove an electric van (so it was silent) he did not phone before hand or
when he arrived (like I was told they would) and he would not have been able to
contact time, because the intercom doesn’t work, and I have paid a £125 bill
for the intercom to be looked at, but no one ever came. Anyways, the
engineer was very smiley and polite. In fact, it has just occurred to me that
he reminds me exactly of the woodman from ‘Hoodwikned.’ I asked him if the
meter was broken, but he just replied that it was old. He cleaned up after
himself, he had blue roll with him, to ensure he did not leave a mess, and he
made sure that my water was working again, before leaving. I think I am now
supposed to take a meter reading every fortnight, for a while, so that they can
check my water usage. Well, since Saturday morning, I still have not got to number
1 yet, I am still in the decimal numbers.
I had a rather huge
argument with someone last week regarding invisible disabilities. This person
said that if you have a physical disability, you must have a walking
stick, so that fully abled people know whether you truly are disabled or not. I
have never had such a fully blown argument with a person in all of my life. I
can’t believe some people do not understand how discriminatory they are being.
They wouldn’t like it if whatever medication they might be taking was forced to
flash above their head for the world to see. It is none of your business
whether someone has a disability or not.
Today has gone by so
incredibly slowly. The office is uncomfortably warm too. And why isn’t it
raining? I thought it was supposed to rain for the whole of September. Now
there will be people everywhere on my walk home and loads of screaming kids in
the estate off my road.
Vic was back at work today. He
is one of the warehouse colleagues and has just had two weeks holiday in
Turkey. I was at the airport, with Darren, when Vic flew out and me and
Snuffles waved to him. He is in his 70s and was worried that might be his last
holiday, because he is losing his vision. I have known Vic since the day I
started at my job and he was always the one that I would talk to or confide in.
He went part time last year in the summer, so he only works from 7:30am until
12:30pm on Tuesdays to Thursdays now. He has always said that I am the
unluckiest person that he knows. He jokes that I must have been Meg, Hades
assistant, in Disney’s Hercules, in a past life, as I must have made a deal
with Hades and I now am cursed with bad luck. He bought me a bracelet on
holiday; he said it is the Turkish evil eye and will ward off the bad luck for
me, which I thought was incredibly sweet of him.
I applied to 14 jobs last night, one
this morning before I even left for work (that one I am most excited about. It
is to work at the café/bar that I used to go to with my ex-partner. I remember
telling him this time last year that I thought I could do it, and I have just applied
to a 48 hour week job there). I heard from a recruiter today, who has recommended
me a brand new job that she was just handed this morning, which I have looked
through. Bartley Green is kind of get-able, so I am applying to their Sourcing
Administrator. I find it funny that I had an automated rejection email this
morning to a job that is literally my current job title, but I can be recommended
to apply to a job that I only have transferable skills in and it isn’t really
anything like my current job.
Oh and completely off topic,
there was a lady walking in front of me, part of the way home, and she had an
incredibly cute, fluffy ghost backpack. I had to take a picture of it, because
I love it so much. I have no idea if I might be able to find one… but knowing
me, I would be too scared to use it, as I wouldn’t want to get it ruined or
dirty.
- Josie -
