Misery
I’ve been having a horrible time at work lately. Not due to work colleagues, I hasten to add. It’s about the working environment and many of them share the same issues and stresses. But it’s taken its toll, and it hasn’t helped that I’ve had a number of health problems lately. I may need surgery to correct a long-established problem, I had bronchitis over the spring and needed to take time off, then my (adult) son caught mumps and I had to go into quarantine for a couple of weeks. This meant that a stressful and challenging situation that I was expecting - the installation of a new IT system and our yearly Book Fair falling in the same week - wasn’t prepared for in the way I’d have liked, since I was literally unable to enter my workplace.
Then I had a week’s hiking holiday which was supposed to set me up for the challenges I’d return to, and instead I had an accident and badly tore a ligament. So I went into the Book Fair against doctor’s orders, dosed up to the eyeballs and in considerable pain. And I was short-tempered with someone’s child, and they sent a very critical email to my manager.
I’ve been told not to worry about it. I can’t not worry about it. I’m utterly devastated, in a way I haven’t been when I’ve faced criticism at work before. The two previous times, it was clearly misinformed and unreasonable criticism and after a bit of a rant I cleared the air and moved on.
I also understand why this has got to me. I suffer from depression, and last year I managed to drop my meds significantly, but it all depended on me getting regular workouts at the gym to keep my head straight. For the last few weeks, I’ve not been able to do that. And as a result I’m living on my nerves and close to tears, I can’t remember people’s names and I feel completely useless. I have a loving and supportive family and a nice boss who understands the pressures on me. I’ve been told frequently that I do a great job, even that I’m a great person.
Yet all I can think is that I was rude to a child, I wasn’t professional, and I’m a useless piece of scum who shouldn’t be allowed near a school. It’s so crippling that I don’t know how I’ll get through to the end of term. I’ve known for a while that my workplace environment is affecting my performance and my state of mind, and nothing would be easier than for me to go to my GP and get signed off sick for a few weeks. But the very fact that I’ve been called unprofessional is preventing me from doing that. I feel I can’t give in to it.
I’m a very introverted person. I find interacting with people really tough a lot of the time, and because my workplace is the school’s reception area I am exposed to a lot of noise, a lot of chaos and literally hundreds of people a day. Most are pleasant, a few are not, and the majority are children, and they can be loud and irritating and all the things lively children tend to be.
I just don’t feel I can do my job any more. I feel terribly guilty about saying that. It’s only a few hours a week (officially - I work a lot of unpaid overtime), I’m a privileged person who can afford to buy and do nice things and that makes me feel guilty too when so many people are suffering. The very fact that I could afford to walk away from my job and barely miss the loss of income is making me feel even more useless. This job is the one thing in my working life that I feel I’ve made a success of, and now that’s failing, too, and I feel I might as well be dead. There, I’ve said it.
Writing it down helps. It shows how ridiculous and unreasonable I’m being. I don’t expect lots of answers, or even for anyone to waste their time sympathising. Sympathy, though well intended, would be coming from people who’ve only heard my side of the story, the whining, complaining and pathetic side. Hence, it would be undeserved. I’m not the only one going through this kind of stress, and most people have bills to pay and can’t afford to quit, and they’re getting through it, so I should be able to as well. And if I’ve been horrible to a child, I shouldn’t be working with them. It’s that simple. I hate myself. It’s awful.