Pep Talk

This has been a great long weekend for me, with lots of good food, fun, and family, along with some wisdom from my favorite psychiatrist and a beautiful Easter Mass to feed my soul. The weather has been good for the most part, and watching my grandsons frolic on the front lawn is always a treat.

But tomorrow, it’s back to reality and I’m going out ‘in the field’ to see how much—or how little—I can improve my job performance. I’m trying to gear up by reminding myself of what Dr. Awesomesauce said about the anxiety surrounding work (“get rid of it”) and what I need to do (eat the proverbial elephant one bite at a time). This is make-or-break time, but if it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t have to break me.

Now, if I can just remember these things tomorrow during the first few frantic hours of survey….

It doesn’t really help that I have periods of great self-confidence (“I got this!”) interspersed with episodes of equally great self-doubt (“I’ll never get it”). However, I’m in a place emotionally where it no longer matters quite as much, so the pep talk is more to keep the nervousness at bay than to rally the troops, so to speak.  What do I really have to be nervous about, anyway? I’m already halfway out the door as it is, and I certainly can’t do any WORSE than I have on previous surveys. No, I don’t want to be unemployed again, but then neither do I want to do this. What have I got to lose?

It’s amazing what a little chat with the good doctor and some perspective can do. I don’t know if “coming out” to my training instructors and supervisors will help or harm me, but at this point it doesn’t make a whole lot of difference because I’ve already let go of a lot of the emotions surrounding work. I came, I interviewed (twice!), I got the job; the fact that I’m no good at it doesn’t mean I’m no good at anything.

I only wish I could quit, rather than wait—and continue to struggle—until they let me go. It would be so much more dignified to leave under my own terms, and it looks better on the resume. Then again, there’s not much I can do about having held three different jobs in a year, and I know that looks bad too.

But I can’t worry about any of that now. Tomorrow, I’m going to put my big-girl chonis on and go do what I can do. That’s all anyone can expect of me, and all I can expect of myself.

To be continued….



Published by bpnurse

I'm a retired registered nurse and writer who also happens to be street-rat crazy, if the DSM-IV.....oops, 5---is to be believed. I was diagnosed with bipolar I disorder at the age of 55, and am still sorting through the ashes of the flaming garbage pile that my life had become. Here, I'll share the lumps and bumps of a late-life journey toward sanity.... along with some rants, gripes, sour grapes and good old-fashioned whining from time to time. It's not easy being bipolar in a unipolar world; let's figure it out together.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: