Thursday, November 29, 2007

Honestly, it would be best if you stop reading now. I’m going to be horribly self indulgent.

I spent ten minutes today crying in the loos at work. Before that I sooked at my desk, stomped and slammed everything within reach, and swore both to and at my boss. I am ashamed, in quite large degree, of every last one of these acts. This behaviour is, I am even more embarrassed to say, not that unusual for me, my workplace, or me in my workplace.

I admit that I am quite a temperamental soul and have such a short fuse that many people don’t even realise that it is possible for me to be in good humour. These are failings and I am aware of them. I am also aware that I do not always behave myself and certainly fail, with great frequency, to behave myself properly. In short, I do know where the line is but I have a hell of a time staying on the right side of it.

I don’t know why I think this is relevant. I always tell people how crap I am at things and how I don’t mean to be as awful as I am and then they pat me on the head and tell me it’s not so bad and besides, I entertain them and that makes it all good. But, you know, it’s not and it doesn’t. It might be funny, you might laugh and I might laugh, but often it’s just as tragic as it is humorous. There’s that dark edge and it’s always there for me and sometimes I slip into it when you least expect it. Sometimes, of course, the little things pile up and conspire to push me over. This is how I felt today. How I feel now.

I feel like I am punished, am being punished, for doing things well. My reward for working hard is being given a choice non-choice – the particular speciality of my boss and of mothers anywhere – where one does something one way or does it another but has no way of getting out of it altogether. Here’s my choice, either I work every day of every week until 9pm or I and my colleagues work a rotating roster to do a shift that is almost totally unnecessary and is, merely, the cheaper option.

I am so sick of working nights. You’ve no idea. Three and a half years of shifts that finish at eight or nine or ten. Most of that time spent with me manipulated into working until ten and then having to get public transport home, most of the time alone, without help, without backup, without anyone giving a damn and with people expecting me to work miracles. And just when I finally thought it was over, when I might be left on my crappy 8pm finish shift – which I’ve also had more than enough of – they manipulate me into working later. I don’t want to. I really don’t want to. I’ve had enough. I do not need the pressure or the stress or the ridiculous responsibility of it. I do not want it either. And yet, you know, choice non-choice – either I do it all the time or I do it some of the time.

And so I spent the day crying. I’ve reached the point where I’ve had enough with just about anything that I feel like I’m about to totally meltdown. I doubt everything, I’m paranoid, I feel unloved, uninvolved, like everyone hates me, thinks I’m an idiot, secretly despises my weak character, and a million other horrible and probably untrue things. Still, they must have some kind of validity if I am feeling them now and I am feeling them now.

When I wasn’t crying I worked every bit as hard as I usually do because I simply cannot stop myself. My reward for this is, if course, punishment. If things continue this way than I shall develop a complex about being punished for working hard and maybe I’ll even stop doing so and will become one of those people whose working lives are smooth and calm and who get what they want by simply not doing anything. I don’t know how that works either.

This was only my second day back at work after a holiday. I’m already exhausted and emotionally overwrought and my eyes hurt – they feel like they’re going to burst – which freaks me out for a whole lot of reasons that I am going to find out all about on Sunday.

I told you to stop reading. Please don’t bother telling me that I have the right of refusal – allow me to know my situation and the conniving of my boss far better than you – or tell me that it’s not so bad, that it’ll be okay or any of those trite phrases that sound so damn hollow because they are quite meaningless. Right now, it is that bad. I’m massively unhappy with things and, judging by their behaviour, things are massively unhappy with me.

9 comments:

Unknown said...

(((HUG)))

Alexis, Baron von Harlot said...

This is altogether TERRIBLE. Your workplace sounds like a dark satanic mill. Here's strength to your arms and your heart.

Dan said...

Fuck all this! The only reason you are being treated like this is because you are allowing yourself to be treated like this. Find a new fucking job and get on with life. Even if it pays less. Life is too damn short to hate what you do. This doesn't have to do with having an inherently weak character, it has to do with being tortured and broken down over the course of years. Leave! If you don't, you have nobody to blame but yourself.

Anonymous said...

Your work sounds like high school. Antagonism, overbearing superiors, crying in the toilets...

You know what the solution is. Time to go emo!

Mark

Mish said...

I remember feeling the exact same way at my last job. When I found myself crying in the toilet out of sheer anger and frustration - that's when I knew I had to leave.

What Mark says. Time for a new job, Shelley.

JahTeh said...

Does the place have arson insurance?

Shelley said...

Marina, thank you. Hugs is part of what I most desperately need - and, also, reassurance that I am not a bad person and am quite undeserving of such treatment. Lucky for me my mummy was here to be all sympathetic.

Alexis, dark satanic mill sounds about right. The really awful thing is that as nasty as they are to me they're even worse to [most of] my colleagues. If I could I'd tell you all about what they did to one of my favourites last night - I was furious for him.

Dan, I know. I beat myself up daily for my stupidity in allowing this. Money though, is a huge problem, and that's why they can manipulate me as they do. Ethics and morality are, obviously, totally foreign to these people.

Mark, yes. Something we've all noticed as well. Says rather a lot about the mentality of my bosses, doesn't it? It's always amusing to be treated like a rather dim schoolgirl and yet be in a position of quite grave responsibility.

Mish, I do feel rather stupid and it's the second time my boss has used the same trick on me. I hate feeling the fool. Being, in fact, a fool. I know I must leave.

jahteh, with the legions of embittered employees one would hope so.

DS said...

There's quite low unemployment at the moment so in its an excellent time to look for a new job.

TimT said...

They sound like a bunch of blackhearts all right, and the sooner you sink your steel-capped shoe into their collective posterior, the better. More power to you, Nails.