Thursday, August 27, 2015

Work and disclosure.

I wasn't looking forward to today. I had a meeting with my new supervisor / department head. He's been with us for 3 months. The tone of his e-mail was pretty serious. I knew there was a likelihood of it being a type of informal review.

Look, technically it went well. But he did signal a change in my mood and said I seemed discouraged. I was honest and said I am. No vacation. No raise. Co-workers quit for better jobs. Unclear what my role is now that the team is smaller. My "helping" means me doing work that isn't mine to do. There's also not great work benefits... I'm not psyched. 

But yes, there was positive feedback. But it just wiped me, the effort it took to explain and interpret. 

I am always reminded of what it's like to be unemployed and desperate when I feel I'm complaining too much... It's like the act of complaining about this job musters up a shadow that preaches gratitude and threatens reprisal for not properly counting my blessings aloud.

He asked if there was a health issue since I take a lot of days for doctor appointments. I said there was, but I did not disclose. He didn't push.

I don't feel disclosing the nature of my disorders to him, or to the company helps me in any way. Knowing there's a health issue seems enough...

There's no way of explaining it to my satisfaction.

I am often paranoid and hard on myself anyway. 

It's just unclear. I feel this is a disability but there is no clear way for me to navigate how to work and live through this other than my just coping and pretending as best I can.

There is no subvention for hiring me. Any parience or understanding will no doubt wear thin.

I get these micro moments of existential dread. These little panicked, painful flutters. They leave as quickly as they came. They feel like reminders. I'm to be reminded of how fickle calm is, how fragile I am. 

I can't look to the future. Looking ahead takes too much out of me. I can't inagine my life, it only exhausts me.


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