Pride, Dependence and Employment

Yay!

Many of you will be aware that I haven't worked for over a year because of problems with depression and anxiety, which, at its worst, meant that I had difficulty even getting on a bus, answering the phone, or going to the shops at any time other than opening time when it would be quiet.

Well the year has passed, and with the support of good friends, the prayers of many other friends (including many here) and hefty doses of Citalopram, I've come through the worst of it. Most recently, my feelings have been linked, not to the initial cause of all this, or to the unpleasant revelations surrounding my mother just this September gone, but rather the fact that I felt that my independence had been taken from me.

The father of a good friend of mine recently had an operation and was told to rest, but was eager to get back to work. At first, I rather judgmentally dismissed this as foolish pride but now I realise that I was quite wrong. When a person finds much of his identity and feelings of self-worth in his independence, in his ability to provide for himself and take care of those he loves, it can be very destructive to suddenly be robbed of that and then to be dependent on others for help, whether it be financial or in terms of physical care.

So on Monday of last week, I bit the bullet and made a talephone call, booking a telephone interview for the following day. I passed that and was invited to an assessment on Saturday morning just gone, at which we applicants were told that, if successful, we would hear from them within 48 hours and that if we didn't, we should assume the worst.

Well, 48 hours came and 48 hours went, and on Monday lunchtime the phone rang. I answered and it was them. Only, they had phoned me to conduct a telephone interview, seemingly not realising that I had done that bit the previous week. Apparently, they had duplicated my records, and so apologised for having raised my hopes. I then sulked (because I'm good at that), until the next evening when, over 24 hours late, they phoned to offer me the job, which I gladly accepted. I'm so pleased.

It's just a call centre customer service job but I'm glad for that because it's the sort of job I've done before and the familiarity should help me move back into the world of work. After all, I have been removed from that sort of environment, and indeed normal day-to-day interactions with people, for over a year now. I have a friend who started working there this week and so that should be a help as well. It also pays significantly more than muy last, similar, job, which is something at which I'm not about to turn up my nose.

I'm so pleased that life is returning to some semblance of normalcy and I'm grateful to everybody for their encouragement, support and prayers, and most of all to God for his grace and mercy in getting me through the quagmire into the present.