Thursday, 9 October 2014

Dreaming

This continues not to be a work blog.

I haven't dreamt in a long time. Not sleep dreaming, I'm sure I do that every time I doze I just never remember it, I mean work dream. To dream of a long term secure future in a job of my choice, where I'm not the only applicant for a short staff company or the average no prospects drone.

First some tactful, anonymous history. 

Straight out of university, I was placed in a decent, if a little dead end, job. This was under direction of the university and with pensions and security, it was perfect. But it wasn't what I wanted to do, so I applied elsewhere, believing that I might not qualify for anything beyond that job, but knowing the longer I stayed the less likely my chances got.

However, just before my Aspergers diagnosis I landed a dream job, working for a perfect company. It is important to note, that while I don't want this to sound defensive, I had not been diagnosed but a condition of taking this job was to have my dyslexia reassessed. 

This dream job however, did not last. Despite managers best efforts to provide support, Aspy traits that had never been recognised, or more likely I had learnt to mask, where too obvious and I lasted less than four months. During my "garden leave" from this job, I had my dyslexia reassessed, and with information brought from my then devastated "current" job, the educational physiologist did Aspergers tests, marking my Empathy Quotient at 26, therefore on the spectrum. Her advise, actually, was that my Aspy markers did not require follow up if I felt it wasn't warranted. 

I had at that time more pressing issues, like finding a job. There was a two month gap, where I had little money and spent much of my day job hunting. So I retreated to menial drone work. Something I knew without a doubt I could handle, something similar to my first job. Once acquired and settled, I went for testing, feeling it was worth exploring. 

This isn't called the Aspy Journey blog because those tests came back normal...... Although I am normal, thank you.

That "retreat" job showed me the ugly side of no support and passive discrimination from management, and taught me tough lessons on what to look for in a job, and who to work for. I didn't hold out hope of ever being more than a menial drone, but maybe I could find a manager who would at least not pressure me and declare to the world my disabilities in the guise of helping. My Aspy nurse came to save the day. She originally came to talk to my management about supporting me and helping with behaviours that they wished to curb, and ended up giving me the best advice she could after watching two managers tear me for precieved infringements (I know I wasn't at fault because I had an independent Neurotypical in the room: my nurse). Her advice? "Quit, now."

Before I continue I feel its important to clarify my stance on the whole work support and health care support issue. The law protects me, I'm sure if I joined a union, they'd protect me, I have a right to a job and management have to make "reasonable adjustments", with help from professionals, to suit my work environment to me. I need a five minute break every two hours to clear my head? Done. Work is stressing me to the limit? I can simply walk out, without explanation, and leave a mark for my manager so they know. I can use a scale system so my colleagues can run interference on me, making me a drink or taking something stressful off me. What constitutes reasonable however is up for debate, and I have heard stories where companies can make reasoned arguments that an adjustment will damage business and that's the matter closed.
I understand that with bad attitude, or an entitled attitude, I could be nothing more than a millstone waiting to be passed to someone else. What it takes is a little quit pro quo, where I must strive to meet any reasonable adjustment half way, to try and overcome my faults through private education and support, and by extension this blog is part of that. It forces me to confront certain issues, uncomfortable ones, like how  i thoughtlessly upset people because I don't think before I speak sometimes.  I don't feel good about myself when I'm told I've upset someone. So I try to tackle those behaviours and while I am currently discharged from Aspy services, I wouldn't hesitate to contact them again if needed, or to join groups (which reminds me, I should search for groups in my area).  

So I quit. It was tough, I had held the job for just under a year, my second longest, but almost immediatly found a new job with an excellent manager. She also met my support nurse and was horrified by my previous jobs behaviour, encouraging me to retain a lawyer and do some active challenging. I didn't. The job to begin with hadn't been worth it, I was only a drone, it presented no growth or advancement opportunity, unless I threatened to quit, in which case suddenly I was the toast of the job. 

My new job took off, it was secure, I made friends, I really enjoyed it. 

Out of the blue I recieved a recruitment text. When my dream job had collapsed, I went into over drive, applying for every job and putting my CV on every recruitment website going. I still get emails and calls asking if I am interested in jobs that I am no longer suited for (in a good way). The recruitment agency had found my Cv online and where offering me an interview with a good company, with a chance for advancement, development and doing a job that would be exciting, rewarding and stimulating. I was back in dream job territory.

I went, not expecting to get the job. In the run up, I spoke intensely with my recruitment handler, discussing how to broach the topic of my disability, how my work history looked without context, gaps and short stays. Previous interviews for jobs that sounded interesting had gone flat when I couldn't with ease explain gaps and short employment, I had been ridiculed in one interview for taking the current drone job at my age. I was afraid to discuss disability, afraid it would ring bells, alarms, that I was not a candidate to hire because I might take supporting, and it all may just fall flat in a short period anyway, but without explaining undiagnosed disability, I couldn't offer decent explanations for gaps. I had done no research into interview techniques and they simply came back with cold "nos".
I wish I could remember the name of recruitment officer who spent hours on the phone, coaching me in how to phrase my previous trouble and to be direct. The honest answer is the best, and be up front about disability, stressing what you can do, what you are undergoing in terms of support and how much you want to work and meet them half way. He also said to turn my disability to company advantage.  The government requires that a certain number disabled people to be employed, and it makes a company look good and inclusive. The best advice I had ever gotten. 

So I went. There where five candidates and I was first. That's code for I was not a hopeful, I was a name. Inevitably the question about my dream job came up.

"Why was your stay so short in a job similar to the one for which you are no applying?"

I took a deep breath and answered honestly. I had undiagnosed Asperger's syndrome.

The interview opened. At some stage, when it became clear I was being handed the job I was asked a very poignant question:

"Are you saying this dream job collapsed because you where not provided with support?"

To say "yes" was the simplest but also untrue answer. I remembered the manager trying hard to support me, repeatedly. But without all the facts, neither of us could implement the correct support or fathom what was wrong.

I gave what I still consider one of my best interview answers: "WE didn't know."

I walked out of that interview room with a three month contract. I had to ask the manager who showed me round the offices if it was a serious job offer three times before I believed it fully.

Three months at my dream job was better than nothing. It was then extended by another three months.

Close to the end of the second three months, when the next management decision would be to either give me  permanent   contract or let me go, a job promotion came up.  I applied and was offered interview, more of a courtesy and learning experience than any real prospect of advancement.

I walked out of that interview with a permanent contract, a project to manage and promises of management orientated courses. The other candidate, rightfully, got the promotion. 

That was almost a year ago. I called this post dreaming, because ever since my initial dream job, I haven't dared dream. It has been unreal. But my first "dream job" taught me not to dream, it crashed. And while I worked as a drone I had no dreams. Maybe vague formless thoughts that further education might pluck me from a mundane dead end job that sapped my will and was not financially rewarding, but nothing solid. A stunted imagination really can be a draw back. 

Early this year I went for a job, regular hours, very good pay, in another office. I hate keeping secrets, I really do, but after I had interviewed and been offered a job, I decided my manager deserved to know that I was jumping ship for another job.

His reaction caught me off guard. He was neutral, but also asked why I was leaving a dream job to work somewhere that may be the equal of my current job, but may have different orientation and goals, work methods and ethics. It gave me pause.

Since my loss of the initial dream job, all I had wanted was to get back into that territory. It didn't really matter with who, or what I was doing day to day, just as long as I was lifted out of the drone work and into a platform from which maybe I could spring into what I really wanted to do. 

But now, now, I was in my dream field. I was jumping because my brain was stuck in "any fancy job" mode, the I'll fine tune it later, for now: leap type job.

My manager told me exactly what he expect out of my "five year plan". A plan I didn't have, and hadn't had since really leaving university if I am honest. He told me if a job came up he would encourage me for it, if he thought I was right, either with my current company or in a new company. He, unwittingly I believe, set me goals, dreams, things to accomplish. He told me if a job came up in a field I am passionate about,meh would pack my bags himself and March me out the door. I began to form a five year plan.

After that, I began to dream again, just a little. A little bit of hope and colour filling my mind, but I never really gave to much thought.

In a recent appraisal my manager put it as strongly as they could that I should apply for the next advertised promotion.

And that's why I am blogging at 5 am on a work day. I have applied for a promotion. One they kept the application window open long enough for me to return from holidays and apply. 

I've been told I won't get it, but that is no reason not to play a stormer. I am doing research, speaking to managers who I will be working under about what their expectations are (the advert says it all, but no harm in hearing it from managers), and preparing interview questions. My best suit has gone to dry cleaners and I will be buying a new shirt for the experience. Just because I won't get it is no excuse not to look amazing and grasp a learning opportunity.

I best get some sleep. Night/morning.

 

Monday, 6 October 2014

Sensory seeking behaviour.

After that last gruesome post, something a little less graphic and more thoughtful this time around perhaps?

This blog will have a number of overarching themes (there will be a quiz at the end so pay attention). These will include (but are no means limited to): behaviour, coping mechanisms, side effects and meltdowns, personal achievements and failures, social interaction and medical changes (hopefully minimal and not interesting). As you might imagine, these will overlap and intertwine as nothing in life is simple and various posts might encompass many different themes or topics. With this in mind, I am going to try to break down certain behaviours into individual posts, just for clarity and to highlight some topics that affect me (with this in mind there may be some opinion pieces, don't worry Dave my Etonian chum, it may not be my remit to advocate for the "disabled community", as many have their own voices, but I will be commenting on the perceived persecution of the disabled).

The last post was very much a sensory seeking behaviour, and I want to follow on with a broader topic of sensory seeking. I don't remember who exactly suggested I have some form of sensory seeking behaviour and I have a sneeking suspicion it was a friend who working with the intellectually disabled rather than a professional diagnosis.

While I enjoy narrow pursuits, I also enjoy them to an extreme extent. I read various internet sites, although none constructive to do with work or with my disabilities. In fact to compose a post about the recent disability cutbacks and the bedroom tax, I am going have to do some research, not only because when I hulk out, I like to be the credible hulk, but because my only information comes from the occasional news story on my Facebook feed. I spend hours on various funny websites, or meme apps, as well as Facebook and Twitter, following what is essentially meaningless comments from people I hardly, or don't, know. Life on the internet is delightfully anonymous, I can comment on anything I like with at least a veneer of anonymity. People can comment on this blog anonymously, because I am a benevolent god, and I believe in freedom of expression and response. 

I spend hours online, and while it can be varied content, between videos from people I follow, or memes, or any social media site or games, it still tethers me to a device and a wifi signal. Blogging is probably an extension of this, and I find a world without wifi a little less rich. I haven't read a full book in about six months, as my time is eaten wholesale by vapid internet browsing. I used to be able to read four books at once, one in every room of the house but, while I still read four books, they take months to complete rather than weeks. This also means my backlog of books is ever growing, as I buy books constantly. In the last week I have had to put books down simply to stop the fill of books pouring into my limited space. It has been this way since before my diagnosis, and it has taken off and been fed by my access to always on fast speed direct to my door broadband and wifi that is prevalent. I can go to any public space, practically, and use a smartphone, tablet or laptop to access the information superhighway. I recently ditched my smartphone and bought a brick that's letting me relive my youth nicely, and I must admit, with the exception of a camera, I miss nothing. Gone is the constant need to browse and upload content. This, at least in part, proves I can break certain routines and behaviours, although I am more often than not logging onto wifi before I have sat down in a restaurant, or unpacked in a hotel, or made dinner at home. 


My internet browsing also impacts another interest (for the purposes of the test, it counts as an interest). My partner recently complained that I wasn't taking a romantic interest in her, devoting more time to the internet than to her. Surprisingly, she isn't my first partner to make this complaint. I have been "diagnosed" by an ex partner who did a sex addict quiz on my behalf and scored me firmly in the addicted section. Mind you, I also scored 28 on a narcissism test, and I only have Facebook, Twitter, a blog, and a full time game account linked to a community and a YouTube account (which I don't upload to), so these tests can be wrong. The sex addict quiz score may have some bearing on my life, as I do have more than the normal appetites. I need to remember my parents read this blog, so I need to word this paragraph tastefully. 

The internet keeps me up at night, constantly feeding information into my brain and I chase it with thirst  and excitement. I am constantly tired because I sit behind a screen constantly, even in bed, on the toilet, when cooking. I am currently watching a video steaming supine, texting and blogging. 

My thumb is certainly a sensory seeking behaviour, and even today it has begun to split again. This time it's bleeding and sore. 

This topic will crop up again, but for now, goodnight.

Also: hi to my readers in America, Germany and now China, welcome. To my closer readers in the Uk and Ireland, thanks for the support.


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Short post

My yet unfinished post about sensory seeking behaviour includes a side rant out about calling out the government on its "war" on disability payment recipients, including the bedroom tax.

Now, understand I recieve no money in benefit form as, rightly, I meet none of the criteria (it makes me feel like a beacon of health reading the assessment forms, as I can do more than is required). 

This popped up on my news feed just now:

I can't post the link without logging into Google plus, so I'm afraid a screen shot will have to do.

Be back soon with posts.

Night.