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 Rather than lost and withdrawn.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.

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.

Come Play With... Haters (Wonder why I don't want to live in a shared house anymore?/Why I couldn't wait to leave Manchester? This was written a year ago and those mentioned have since been deleted from my life).

The one thing I love about haters, is the fact that despite their incredibly busy schedules, they still manage to find the time to read my blog posts and either slag me off or complain to me about it. Well frankly I could not give a single fuck of what your opinion may be about me or what I write. Because at least I've got the fucking balls to say how I feel, and leave myself open to discussion.

The one thing I hated about school, was the politics, and the strangest thing is, at Mortimer Comprehensive, I found at least, the boys to be far more bitchy and snide than the girls ever were. The one thing I LOVED about the girls at that school is that they gave ZERO fucks about what anyone thought of them. And I loved hearing their stories of sex in the bus shelter by CineWorld (I think it was still the Empire back then or something) and how they would have underage sex with their 18 year old boyfriends in their Skodas after a long evening of driving up and down Ocean Road.

I used to get the odd frigid comment here and there for being in a relationship for the longest period of time in Mortimer Comprehensive history (3 months at the time) and still not going all the way despite the fact that I was still 14. Though, looking back, especially with all the paedophile stories in the news recently, it's actually kind of terrifying how open to sex we were, but the word 'slag' was only really used in passing, but never with true intent because we were just open about it all and we'd have a lot of smashed greenhouses if it was really meant.

The boys were really bitchy because they were always just trying to get into every girls pants, and I received frequent phone calls from a guy I was datings best friend, telling me how much of an arsehole he was in some desperate attempt to try to steal me from him, mind this all died down by year 10, when we all grew up.

But it does appear that while we all grew up, that there are a lot of sad pathetic individuals out there who are still living a shallow life of stunted adolescence. Where all they can do is say destructive comments in order to attempt to bring you down and make you feel bad about yourself.

Well fuck you ALL OF THE PEOPLE WHO SLAG ME OFF BEHIND MY BACK AND THEN BE NICE TO MY FACE AND THINK THAT I AM TOO IGNORANT NOT TO NOTICE YOUR BULLSHIT! I KNOW YOU'RE DOING IT AND IT IS ABSOLUTELY PATHETIC.

What's hilarious too is the fact that you all slag each other off, to me.

Well grow up or fuck off because I'm not spending another year dealing with your childish bullshit.

Come Play... Phapping in the Office

I'm sat at work today waiting for the work to come in. It’s kind of nice really as it’s my first Sunday in a while where I'm not tearing my hair out being overloaded with work. Instead I have time to write, I could go through my uni notes and revise, but I'm already at work fuck sakes and I'm feeling just on that edge between wired and hung over and in this place it is very difficult to take in anything new.

As I sit here I think about last night, my friend got really sad because we were having a drinks party and her boyfriend went AWOL, apparently we’re not cool enough. I said a lot worse but I bloody well hope he’s not dead or I’d feel totes bad, but tbf that’s the only thing that could explain why he left. 

Either that or he’s just a penis.

I forgot what it was like to be in a bit of a weird relationship, she was so sad because he embarrassed her by saying he was going to go to the shops to get supplies and never came back. 

I’m sorry but it’s totally more, or equally at least, as embarrassing as to have a boyfriend on Facebook for 10 days, and then get Facebook dumped; in your twenties.

It’s funny when you’re more sad because of sheer humiliation than due to the loss, it just shows really how little it mattered.

Mind, these days I've realised, that smelly beards and greasy hair aren't that attractive anyway, and it’s hardly even alternative as everyone’s doing it. 

It won’t be long till the hipsters will be growing beards ‘ironically’.

But yeah, that’s all that’s really on my mind, aside from being in the workshop all next week, in my pure geet sexy overalls that has so many pockets it could star in its own porno. Marshall’s Aerospace logo n all. I think that might be fun, provided this hang over is fully shifted and I don’t end up drinking more tonight.

New year, Drunk me should be the saying.

 So far I have spent more time this year either hung over/inebriated than sober. Which is why I'm fat and covered in acne. 

On the upside I'm fucking hilarious, which is a requirement for the less physically fortunate portion of society.

Anyway, I should probably do some work, I wonder if I had a phap in the office if anyone would notice? 

Probably shouldn't, since I've written it on the internet.

Bye.

Come Play… With Workplace Development

It’s been a tough day at work. Being bogged down with reports after reports after updates after updates after updating parts after updating parts.

Though, the one thing I love about my job, it that it’s constantly challenging me in new ways, learning how to use new systems, improving my excel skills, communicating with clients & engineers and forever expanding my mind to the running of a youngling company.

I love that my role is blurred and my reach and depth in the world of planning and project management is growing not by the week, not even by the day, but by the hour.

I take pleasure in developing my skill set, whatever field it may be in, I love that for the first time in my life I am finally doing myself justice and being successful in my university studies, with two exams obtaining a 1^st with 80% in each, and a not too shabby 68% for my first university-standard essay in three years.

I love that I’m finally in a position where I can afford to learn how to drive, and getting to know my driving instructor as we coast around the beautiful Cambridgeshire countryside (stall-free, might I add!).

And I love taking pride in my work, going the extra mile, and surprising myself at the end of each day, week, and month looking back on what I’ve achieved. I’ve done more with myself in the past 3 months than I had done in the last 3 years prior, and I am fulfilled in these accomplishments; they drive me to always keep moving forward.

I’m 23, I’m not old yet! Despite what the children on my course might say ;)

Though with this massive boost in motivation, I feel like I’m really battling with some of my colleagues to feel the same. And I understand where they’re coming from, I really do, but there is nothing worse than becoming stuck in a rut.

A particular colleague today sent me an email complaining about how I had not kept her informed on the goings on with one of ‘her’ engineer’s calls over the weekend. She felt saddened and humiliated that I hadn’t kept her in check. I understand what it’s like getting frustrated with the lack of communication in the office, it’s a young company, and there are some very definite teething problems.

However the reason I hadn’t informed her was due to the fact I had taken ownership of the issue, being the only member of staff working over the weekend, and dealt with it, therefore it seemed that there was no need to waste time that I didn’t have sending unnecessary updates.

I apologised for my lack of judgement with the situation, and I suggested that I had updated the notes on the clients database, and suggested that she should be trained to use the system so that if she had any problems in the future, she could read the reports that I spend hours typing up and then the problem wouldn’t occur again.

She responded with a defensive email about how it wasn’t her job to use that system. Providing no further constructive comments to the discussion.

She’d rather have a go at me than develop her skillset, which with time she could use as a bargaining tool for a pay rise or promotion. I don’t understand this at all. I learnt how to do her job over the weekends, therefore making me the only member of staff currently trained on not only logging, closing calls, reporting and logging the transfer of parts, but also to schedule them as well. And being well-versed in the use of all of these systems makes my job a hell of a lot easier. It also prevents me from becoming complacent, because when you find yourself doing the same job over and over again, you become complacent, which subsequently leads to you becoming bored, which can finally lead to you hating your job and becoming depressed. Why wouldn’t you want to mix things up a little?

The mind boggles. But I guess this is why people like that never get anywhere and end up resenting those who do. Fuck it. I’ll see her in 10 years when I’m driving through town in my Aston Martin.

Expand your mind. So you can get a nice car when you’re older. And therefore prevent depression. I’ve just cured all of the world’s problems. 

Just fucking do it!

Come Play... And Feed Bob Geldof!

Unless you've been living in a hole the past few days you may have heard that Wor Bob is releasing, yet another version of Band Aids 'Do they know it's Christmas?'. I for one must object to this nauseating attempt at this knob dragging this bandwagon any further.

This is an attempt to yet again raise his profile amongst the people who frankly no longer give a shit about his apparent humanitarian efforts. Hiding his desperation for attention in an Ebola blanket. The first time I heard about it, I genuinely laughed out loud, surely everyone else can see this and not only me?

It's a massive scam.

Talking about raising money for a good cause? I have a better idea.

How about boycotting this desperate cry for attention and just donating straight to the source?

Cutting out the money paid to the studios, production team, and I'm sure the 'celebrities' will be getting nice little handouts of their own over this; as well as the advertising agencies, the record label, producers... The numbers are endless of the people who will be taking a cut before pittance will actually be donated in aid.

This may once have started as a noble and just cause, raising money for aid efforts. But that was in 1984. Now it's time to come up with something fresh and original, rather than regurgitating a shit song which was as equally as shit and inaccurate then, as it is now.

I for one will not be purchasing this song. and I urge you all to do the same. If anything they should force you to have to listen to that song on repeat until you donate, I'm sure that would raise far more money.

Right, rant over.

Come play... with what happiness is.

While travelling home from work yesterday I laughed at my sweet colleague who is newly in love with her boyfriend of 3 weeks. Though the journey I'd make jokes at how they would literally have text conversations spanning several hours merely informing each other that they miss and love each other very much, with the customary multitude of kisses to affirm such statements. While in conversation with another colleague, aside from our humour picking apart the holes in young love and the laughable fallacy of the true nature of the term, my other colleague talked about how she is finally in a relationship where she is truly comfortable, and with this in addition to her life accomplishments so far (career-related ;).

She is by far the happiest now that she has ever been by far, though she no longer lives in Dubai as she had outgrown her original profession, and her family live in Europe (proper Europe) so she can only communicate with them time to time through Skype as she also works 14-16 hour days so barely has any time for herself, never mind her relationship. But despite all this, she is 100%, completely happy and feels whole.

We discussed the damaging repercussions of controlling relationships (which our young companion spoke so freely about, she’s been with her boyfriend for 3 weeks, and he has already told her that she is fat and needs to go to the gym, along with texting her constantly asking to come over to hers, at 17 that seems a bit young to be so controlling, I thought that was something that generally came with age... to a point) and how by spending your life treading over egg-shells in a controlling relationship can cast a shadow over any joy that even other aspects of your life should bring to you. I guess games are for kids, and this includes mind games.

But the majority of the people I have courted over the years have generally (always- at first) been really kind and loving and respectful, I have been in 2 relationships which were completely overbearing (hence why I said always, at first) and went from lovely niceness to horrible, controlling, blockading the only exit after an argument which was usually over me wanting to spend time with my friends without them, because they didn't like them because they never let me 'play out'.

But I guess you need these experiences so that once you finally meet someone who really treats you right, is there for you for whatever you need and trusts you to have friendships outside, as well as within the relationship, with no grief, only stories, along with being willing to follow you to the ends of the Earth; then you will realise what a rare and beautiful creature you have had the pleasure and luck to meet and won't squish their hearts because they're "too nice" or whatever.

There are plenty of dickheads in the world, a lot of them with a lot of money, but what you really want, is to be with someone who is happy to stand by you and help you nurture your own future, to enable you to be the best you can be, then you can both be rich one day and not have the awkward situation of having to feel like you are owned by the other person because they contribute more financially to the relationship. I could not imagine a worst outcome, it's situations like this which make the 'bread-winners' of a relationship believe that it is alright to indulge in a little domestic violence since the other party would not be able to survive independently...

Wow, what a depressing tangent.

Anyway, our conclusion was, that what made us truly happy, was that we were in relationships which did not rule our lives in anyway, and had we not been in them then nothing would be any different in any other aspect of our lives, but it was just nice to have someone to come home to, to go for a walk with, to eat with or to travel with. To have a companion in life who makes you smile every morning. And to know that you're loved. That's what happiness is to me.