Saturday 21 February 2015

Come play… With Anxiety

As I’m writing this, I find myself with a strange sense of uneasiness. I found myself yawning almost constantly, with my heart feeling like its racing, fingers tingling, and almost certain that I’m dying.

I’ve grown to hate my job, I nearly had a breakdown (actually, I had an ACTUAL breakdown) at the prospect of even entering that office. I’m always fine by the time I get in there, and when I’m leaving I feel like I want to crawl up in a ball and never be disturbed. Either that or shop until I’ve spent the days earnings on another bag or pair of shoes. Which renders the whole exercise entirely pointless.

The job itself isn’t even all that difficult, I just find myself forgetting stupid things, and I have the inherent need to be the best, the most efficient, always moving forward. But as I’m working so hard through the week at uni, it feels like every weekend it feels like a month since I’ve last been in there. So I find myself constantly having to relearn my job.

And then when I make mistakes it is always noticed almost immediately and I am penalised for it, rather than anyone actually looking into why I make said mistakes and offering support and advice into how to combat these issues.

But instead I feel like a huge failure, and to make it worse my managers like to remind me of that fact each and every shift. My confidence is at its lowest point and I’m constantly wishing that I could be anywhere other than where I am. I find myself feeling like I’m going to have a panic attack every Saturday morning, and I cannot wait until I can get back to uni and spend my days feeling fulfilled and positive. Rather than lost and withdrawn.

One of my lecturers told us that he’s never had a job that he hated, because life’s too short, especially when you spend the majority of your conscious existence working. And you cannot be the best you can be when you hate what you do.

Every shift for the last month I’ve told myself I’ve got to hand my notice in. But that would admit that I failed. I know that any of my old mentors would tell me that it’s not I who failed, it is they, who failed me, for not having the capability to assume the slightest bit of compassion to an employee whose spirit they have completely crushed with their lack of acknowledgement of what they are putting us through on a daily basis.

Perhaps I’ve just been spoilt by working with companies that actually value the people who are making them money. Then again that explains why they were multimillion pound businesses while these guys are struggling to break-even.

I think the fact that I’ve spent the length of time to pine over the matter to the extent of spending my Saturday night writing this short essay is reason enough for me to let this go down as a moment in history where I made the wrong decision and take from the experience that I shouldn’t accept a job just because the pay is half decent.

Well. Lesson learned.

Thursday 12 February 2015

Come play... With being suffocated by routine.

I'm finding myself feel like something  needs to desperately change as soon as possible. I am being driven to madness by the monotony of my days. Uni, dinner, bed (x4) work, dinner, bed (x2) with Mondays off to do nothing because I  need a whole day to get that done.

I wish I could travel like I used to. I think it might be time to invest in a railcard so I  can see my homegirls that I miss so much.

I feel like I'm living in a sausage factory and I'm getting strangled by them.

I just need a girl in my life that I can be  comfortable to be as hormonal as fuck around and they'd understand. Instead of constantly feeling paranoid and fucked up because I'm on medication which is known to exasperate the symptoms of  schizophrenia as well as replicate those with bipolar.

I just feel like my life is just killing me, crushing me slowly into this abyss of depression which I need to get out of  somehow.

I'm on steroids for my asthma at the  moment because I couldn't breathe comfortably, for several weeks. So I went to the doctors last friday and he prescribed me with Prednisolone tablets  (steroids).

Unfortunately the side effects are fucking  awful, probably explaining why I feel the way I feel and why I am not coping very well.

The main side effects of these pills are on the attached leaflet.

They state that steroids including these tablets can cause serious mental health problems. These are common in both adults and children they can affect about 5 in every 100 people taking medicines. The examples they provided are:

Feeling depressed including thinking about suicide.

Feeling high (mania) or moods that go up and down.

Feeling anxious, having problems sleeping, difficulty in thinking or being confused and losing your memory.

Feeling, seeing or hearing things which do not exist. Having strange and frightening thoughts, changing how you act or having feelings of being alone.

Definitely feel like I've had a mix of all of the above over the past week on the roids. Perhaps I should probably ask for something else.

On the upside i've been able to breathe though so it's always a juggling act isn't it? Mental health or physical health? Which one is more important?

Drugs are bad kids!

I'm probably completely fine but in the meantime company might be good right now.

Bye.