Ten years of ping-ponging in hospitals, untreatable bipolar disorder and with life heading nowhere, my luck changed after a new psychiatrist entered my life. With correct meds finally, and great encouragement I began to take two steps forward.
My passion for writing began to resurface. Thoughts and ideas that lay dormant over the years could now be seen in print. My dilemma though found me with limited computer skills caused by years of unemployment, non-usage of computers and coupled by memory loss. I had to relearn everything. Tenacity prevailed, I worked daily on my typing skills, escalating my speed and educated myself using software. I regained the skills and was extremely pleased of the accomplishment. Wow! And so began the writing and was so swollen with pride when one of my articles was published in our local paper.
Next, I began to experience the yearning of perhaps returning to the working world. This would prove later to be a feat in itself. At the outset, I had a spotty resume caused by years of infirmity. Using my volunteer work, as well as, a short stint with self-employment, filled in the ‘experience’ section of my mottled resume, which began looking presentable. Next came the job hunt. I always felt, the search for a job is far more problematical than performing the job itself. Months of telephone calls, faxing resumes and mainly waiting for ‘that call’, at last paid off. I received ‘that call’, but felt frozen facing an actual interview. Years had passed since an interview was necessary of me. Also, tests were required. The computer typing test I had no difficulty with, but the ‘intelligence’ test proved a different story. Feeling I answered questions correctly, I later learned I only just squeezed by. However, a second interview was necessary and lo and behold I was offered a position in the banking field.
Prior to beginning this position, it was compulsory to attend a two-week training session. I considered this a breeze. I was gravely mistaken. The first day was a disaster, as it was essential to become accustomed to their internal computer system, and I sat in confusion having problems with straightforward tasks such as passwords and locating screens. The remaining two weeks met with more perplexity, and slowly my self-confidence, self-esteem and self-doubt tumbled downward. I was the slowest and oldest in the class. But, I passed and began the position. The everyday routine felt so bizarre after years of illness at home and in hospital. Enjoying the job, I was discontented with management and other factors played, and so, unfortunately after three months I discovered this job just wasn’t for me.
To make a lengthy story short, before long I found the position right for me. I have been with this company for 1 ½ years now and performing well. Self-confidence has returned, I am meeting the company’s stats, and ever so proud of this achievement. Pulling yourself up by the bootstraps and getting back on your horse, so to speak, is in itself a major accomplishment. I struggle daily with ‘fitting in’ with my co-workers, and dreading my performance reviews; always expecting the negative, and ultimately surprised by the positive. Depression leaves a scar, but I have learned that a scar can fade.
I do not share my past with co-workers, due to the fact of **stigma. I recognize I would be treated in a different way, as the general public does not comprehend mental illness. In secret, I wish my co-workers/management to be acquainted with my triumph. Existing under a veil of blackness for so many years, then at last standing upright and functioning in the ‘working world’ is something of a phenomenon. This would give enlightenment to my slowness in grasping new company policies and procedures; my frazzled three-month wait to learn if I passed the probationary period; why self-confidence plummets and the heart skips a beat when monthly performance reviews are about to take place; and why I experience a sensation of gratefulness for this company, as they took a risk hiring me with a resume packed with holes. They apparently saw the potential I forgot I possessed.
I am testimony that the compassionate doctor that I am so privileged to have, the correct medication, sheer will and determination, spousal/family support have motivated me to seek out my buried talent and bounced me back on the road to living yet again.
My passion for writing began to resurface. Thoughts and ideas that lay dormant over the years could now be seen in print. My dilemma though found me with limited computer skills caused by years of unemployment, non-usage of computers and coupled by memory loss. I had to relearn everything. Tenacity prevailed, I worked daily on my typing skills, escalating my speed and educated myself using software. I regained the skills and was extremely pleased of the accomplishment. Wow! And so began the writing and was so swollen with pride when one of my articles was published in our local paper.
Next, I began to experience the yearning of perhaps returning to the working world. This would prove later to be a feat in itself. At the outset, I had a spotty resume caused by years of infirmity. Using my volunteer work, as well as, a short stint with self-employment, filled in the ‘experience’ section of my mottled resume, which began looking presentable. Next came the job hunt. I always felt, the search for a job is far more problematical than performing the job itself. Months of telephone calls, faxing resumes and mainly waiting for ‘that call’, at last paid off. I received ‘that call’, but felt frozen facing an actual interview. Years had passed since an interview was necessary of me. Also, tests were required. The computer typing test I had no difficulty with, but the ‘intelligence’ test proved a different story. Feeling I answered questions correctly, I later learned I only just squeezed by. However, a second interview was necessary and lo and behold I was offered a position in the banking field.
Prior to beginning this position, it was compulsory to attend a two-week training session. I considered this a breeze. I was gravely mistaken. The first day was a disaster, as it was essential to become accustomed to their internal computer system, and I sat in confusion having problems with straightforward tasks such as passwords and locating screens. The remaining two weeks met with more perplexity, and slowly my self-confidence, self-esteem and self-doubt tumbled downward. I was the slowest and oldest in the class. But, I passed and began the position. The everyday routine felt so bizarre after years of illness at home and in hospital. Enjoying the job, I was discontented with management and other factors played, and so, unfortunately after three months I discovered this job just wasn’t for me.
To make a lengthy story short, before long I found the position right for me. I have been with this company for 1 ½ years now and performing well. Self-confidence has returned, I am meeting the company’s stats, and ever so proud of this achievement. Pulling yourself up by the bootstraps and getting back on your horse, so to speak, is in itself a major accomplishment. I struggle daily with ‘fitting in’ with my co-workers, and dreading my performance reviews; always expecting the negative, and ultimately surprised by the positive. Depression leaves a scar, but I have learned that a scar can fade.
I do not share my past with co-workers, due to the fact of **stigma. I recognize I would be treated in a different way, as the general public does not comprehend mental illness. In secret, I wish my co-workers/management to be acquainted with my triumph. Existing under a veil of blackness for so many years, then at last standing upright and functioning in the ‘working world’ is something of a phenomenon. This would give enlightenment to my slowness in grasping new company policies and procedures; my frazzled three-month wait to learn if I passed the probationary period; why self-confidence plummets and the heart skips a beat when monthly performance reviews are about to take place; and why I experience a sensation of gratefulness for this company, as they took a risk hiring me with a resume packed with holes. They apparently saw the potential I forgot I possessed.
I am testimony that the compassionate doctor that I am so privileged to have, the correct medication, sheer will and determination, spousal/family support have motivated me to seek out my buried talent and bounced me back on the road to living yet again.
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