Get a Job

There's this part of me that won't let up about having a job.

I'm extremely lucky to not  have to work. For many years I worked paycheck to paycheck and having to not worry so much about finances is a huge relief.

But I still feel like I should be working. A part of me knows that it would likely help rid me of the feeling of restlessness I often experience. It would give me a sense of independence too which I crave. But it also triggers my anxiety.

What if I'm not able to do the very best at the job I've been assigned? What if I can't do it right? What if I make a mistake and it's such a terrible mistake there's no coming back from it? What if I'm not perfect?

If a friend came to me and voiced these concerns, I'd be quick to assure them that no one is perfect. That's it's ok to make mistakes because then we can learn from them. I would encourage them to reach for their goals.

But I'm not that nice to myself and I think I know why. It's not all my fault. I struggle with authority figures. I think it's because I never really had any growing up. My parents pretty much let me do what I wanted and so when someone started telling me what to do because they were my boss, my hackles went up. I also don't like that people often take advantage of positions of power and treat everyone else as less than. No one is better than anyone else.

I've had some pretty heinous bosses.

My first job I started as a busser, then waited tables, hosted and even popped in the kitchen when we needed more toast.
My boss there would walk by and pinch my sides, telling me I should watch my weight. He hired men that leered from the dish pit and cornered us at the bussing station with lewd remarks and wandering hands. He walked the restaurant drunk off wine poured into a coffee cup we were instructed to always keep full. He burned a friend of mine with a pot of hot water because he was drunkenly weaving. He was belittling and unkind. He was selfish and greedy and had no regard for the people that worked so hard for him. He might have owned the restaurant, but we ran it.

Second job was working with kids as a teacher's assistant, then later I became a teacher for 4 year olds
The next boss I had turned a blind eye to any concerns shared. A child bit me but it was my fault. Another teacher was playing favorites with the children and I didn't know what I was talking about. She didn't listen to anything that didn't help her in some favor and the frustrations that came with that were too much. There's right and there's wrong and sometimes they are black and white.

I took time off for awhile due to the extreme stress of working the two jobs and eventually going back to waiting tables full time. I had a hard time in my mid 20s and then when mom died I just needed some time before going back to work. I was grateful to have financial help from my parents. I learned later that it was because my father was selling drugs to support me and my mom. I wish I could go back and be stronger during that time.

When I found the pet store, I thought it would be temporary as I wasn't interested in working retail at all. But this place felt different. They told you were special, important and I needed that. I started as store staff, then was quickly promoted to shift lead and finally as store manager.
I had 3 district managers that I clashed with as a manager. With each of them I received advice on how to run my store better when I felt they had no clue as to how it was being run. In retrospect, I was able to learn some things and by the end of my time as a manager, I was really good at it and my store was happy. But the way I was 'taught' was often done with cruel words instead of support. I remember many days of crying in the bathroom or on the way home. I felt like no one understood that I was trying my best. Of all my jobs though, managing felt like I had the most control. My store, my staff, my customers. But not really. There's always a bigger fish.

I quit my job to move to a different city with my boyfriend, now husband. I wanted back into the pet store industry-specifically to work at the home office behind the scenes. Eventually I got in but my boss was a friend first and that was a near immediate mistake. I was conflicted from the start because I could tell management was not her strong suit and it frustrated me. I wasn't learning anything and I wasn't being acknowledged for the things I did do. I felt worthless and stupid. I even tried to voice these feelings and by the end of the conversation I felt even worse. After 2 years of stressful and emotional days working under  her I got a new boss.

My last boss seemed perfect at first. She listened, supported me and encouraged me. It was as though I'd finally met the best boss for me and I was excited to move forward and try new skills. But I made a mistake. A big one and she treated me differently after that. I felt like I was a child with a parent that was disappointed. I was casually being pushed out of projects and responsibilities but I didn't see it. Each time I showed progress on a project I was working on it was wrong and I was dismissed. It hurt on a personal level and perhaps it shouldn't have. I don't know. I only know that one day I came to work and was happy to see my boss was out for the day. The constant worry of what kind of mood she'd be in was tiresome and stressful.

I haven't worked since. I have days where I hate that she 'won'. I feel weak for letting it happen, for not sticking up for myself. I feel like I was being ridiculous. Who actually likes their boss anyway? But the culture I was groomed in made you feel like you were family even when you were being treated like the cousin no one liked. My last boss affected me more than any other. She showed me trust and kindness and took it away because I made a mistake. I wasn't perfect.

I tried to go back to work to a very low key job. I was an assistant and did just a few errands and things for my bosses. I liked them and since they'd come from a toxic work environment too, they understood me. But I didn't. I couldn't understand why I couldn't shake the skittishness. That feeling of 'what if I do something wrong?' wouldn't go away. I was given a task that I wasn't able to finish, literally because I didn't have the tools and I cried on the way home because I couldn't do it 'right'.

I think about going back to work now and I can feel my stomach jump. I feel my hands go clammy when I imagine that first meeting with a potential superior. Even the idea of an interview makes me nervous. I worry about what might happen if I'm not perfect even though I know logically that's ridiculous.  This is what anxiety does and I hate it. Logically I know I could be happy, have that sense of fulfillment I so desperately miss if only I could work. I've thought about volunteer work too but because of recent events (COVID) so many opportunities are not available. I waited too long. I don't even have my assistant job because it's just not needed. And truly if it was, I don't know if I'd go back. The stress I still feel, the anxiety that still manifests is strong and frustrating.

Find a hobby. Friends have suggested this and I agree it could be helpful. The trouble is, I don't have a lot of interest in finding one. The depression doesn't even let me enjoy the hobbies I already have sometimes so finding something new seems daunting. And again, the fucking COVID makes exploring new things challenging if not down right impossible.

When I feel like this I have to remember that it's ok I'm not working. I am financially taken care of which is something that still feels weird sometimes. Working paycheck to paycheck to not having to work was a huge adjustment. But my husband takes care of me. Not only financially  but with constant reassurance that it's ok I'm not working. That he understands the anxiety that rears its ugly head. I'm very lucky.

But there's still this part of me that can't quite shake that I need to have a job. It's what 'normal' people do. It's what is expected. When people ask what I do, I never know what to tell them. Usually my anxiety won't let me.