Today’s October 7th. I started my new job with AT&T on June 30th.
For the last three months, I’ve been on a journey of a lifetime.
If you don’t know, I was diagnosed with major depression and OCD back in March. This is an illness that has been utterly debilitating for the last two years of my life that I’ve only just now gotten a name for. In May, I was living with my mom and stepdad with zero prospects for a future. I didn’t get a degree, I had little job experience, and I was hopeful that I’d get another job at Pier 1 just so I didn’t have to pretend that playing housekeeper for Mom and Stepdad was a real job.
What I got has been nothing short of a miracle. You guys know I’m not religious, but there isn’t another word to describe how my life has changed in these last three months.
When I limped back home from Tuscaloosa earlier this year, I was a ball of anxiety who couldn’t move from point A to point B without shaking. I had no idea what I was going to do. My dad would not get a place with me to help and my mom was putting the pressure on for me to do something. This spring and early summer was perhaps one of the lowest points of my life, nearly on par with August 2013. I felt worthless, as if everything I touched turned to shit. All of the passion I had for anything at all, be it learning, Russian, hockey - anything - dimmed to absolutely nothing.
And then I got the interview.
I met with a district manager for my first interview who believed in me. He wasn’t family, he was someone who owed me nothing at all, and he believed in me. Me, who felt like I had literally nothing to offer the world and was pretty sure my only purpose for living was to keep my mother from dying of heartbreak if something happened to me.
From him, I met my store manager who also believed in me. He didn’t care that I didn’t graduate college or that I didn’t have much work experience. He saw a fire inside me that I was sure had burned out last year. I don’t know how he saw it in me, how he managed to bring it back to life, but he did and he has.
The first two weeks was terrifying. The sheer amount of things I would have to learn and know felt incredibly overwhelming. We weren’t allowed to sit down for our eight hour shifts and my feet were in constant pain. As soon as I met my co-workers, I was sure that I wouldn’t have anything in common with any of them, that they’d see me as competition to their commission or as some yuppy, pretentious girl who didn’t belong.
When training started, my anxiety got worse. If I thought I would have to know a lot from being in the store, the things I learned I would have to know scared me even more. Four weeks of training. How the fuck was I supposed to learn everything and pass when I couldn’t even function in class at college?
Then I started to know my coworkers. The extremely handsome older, married man with a twisted sense of humor identical to my own became my go-to trainer in the store. He made me learn the hard way by handing me his iPad and walking away, always watching me while being very clearly amused by my stammering. He’s my favorite for various reasons.
The guy my age who is also college educated became one of my first friends, quickly adding me on facebook and inviting me into his little clique in the store (as it turns out, high school never ends).
The girl my age who is a mother but always invites me to dinner after work or goes shopping with me (like at Pier 1 last night) and is constantly telling me that I really don’t want a baby even though I really really do.
The assistant manager who is my team leader that greeted me with a hug yesterday after being away in Atlanta for a week. I hated him at first and we’ve had a lot of growing pains with each other, but now he is easily a good friend and went from being the store’s most hated guy to the most likable guy with a little bit of coaching from me.
The assistant manager who welcomed me with open arms and writes down hilarious descriptions of customers when we’re trying to find them.
The girl who lost her best friend to suicide a few years ago and has become a mother hen to me, always taking a keen interest in my medication and checks on me every day. She unflinchingly swapped a closing shift with me so that I could go see my psychiatrist here sooner.
The girl who always greets me with a hug and a smile and pulls me into the inventory room to tell me how idiotic her customer is.
The guy who is our security guard that is extremely nerdy and quotes movies and dbz abridged with me.
This is only some of the people I work with. My therapist in Tuscaloosa advised me to be open and honest with my illness and I have been. I expected people to weird about it, but instead, everyone that I have told is incredibly supportive of me.
I’ve found a network of friends that I never thought I would or could have here back home. They’ve each encouraged me and helped me learn my job, even at the expense of their own commission. Hell, one of them gave me a Direct TV order on a silver platter simply because I needed it to make my wired goal.
These people have taken that smoldering ember and fanned into a roaring flame again. I have pride. I have passion for my work, believe it or not. And I’m damn good at my job. I’m a top tablet seller and met or exceeded all of my goals in September, my second month of being on my own. So far in October, if I continue the pace that I’m currently on, I’ll easily surpass what I did last month. I’m making damn good money too and am able to live in a luxury apartment and be fully financially independent.
I have my life back. My job has given me a second chance at life, to regain what I’ve lost in the last few years.
I’ve had to make sacrifices. No more late nights on Tumblr or Minecraft, no more staying up into the early morning hours watching a Netflix marathon. No more sleeping in until noon.
Making these sacrifices haven’t been easy. In September, I had a mental breakdown that led me driving through Memphis at night in the middle of an existential crisis. I’ve been ignoring my other friends, those that I know personally in real life and those that I’ve grown close to on the internet. It hurts to do, feels like a stab to the heart every time.
But I’ve had to be selfish and put myself first these past three months. I’ve had to give myself a chance at a life instead of staying in that dark place where I’ve been for so long. I’ve purposely had blinders on in order to get myself to where I am today. And I’m not sure when those blinders will come off, to be honest.
I love each and every one of my friends, whether you’re a friend I know in real life or one that I’ve come to know from the internet. But I have to love myself more, or else I will never recover.
This is partially me rambling and partially an explanation… but either way, there you go. This is why I haven’t been as active as I used to be.
Overall, I give this episode a 6/10. Nameless Son dies, another shooting massacre, and a clubhouse gets blown up. Same plot devices Sutter has used in the past, each getting less effective every time around. Extra points for Theo Rossi’s ass and Juice’s story arc in this episode.
i just want to fast forward to october 3 when i get my commission check
everything will be beautiful
so i got my new computer and everything is beautiful
however i am indefinitely on a budget until i can rebuild my bank account
Hey kids, as we approach Halloween I just wanted you guys to be careful and say DON’T FUCK WITH SPIRITS. Don’t mess with Ouija Boards, don’t talk to no dead people, don’t fuck with demons, don’t summon shit, don’t dick around in abandoned buildings. If you are considering a thing, just think, “would a white person in a horror movie do this thing?” If the answer is yes, then don’t do the thing.
Going to get a new laptop tonight because why the hell not.
my job is awesome.
Favourite Ray moments from Let’s Play - GTA V - ‘Merica