Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts

Friday, 31 May 2019

Facade

I had a solid meltdown in work.

I haven't told my parents yet but they are my main readers so, hi mom and dad, guess what happened in work!

I make no secret of my mental health, it's been something people try to stigmatise but with Prince William being an advocate for awareness and acceptance, I feel attitudes are shifting.

I guess it's been building. The last month was spent putting myself under huge pressure to pass a work funded course, mainly because it's important but also because if work are paying it's doubly important that I don't fail AND don't show up my workplace (it was out of state with a partner company so I was alone too, but the fellow students where amazingly supportive and friendly, reasoning that they too had once been the "out of state candidate". Soft skill learnt: include the outsider ). The course was so tough they sent candidates home on the first day and told them it wasn't for them. My company had invested huge amounts of time and resources in me to do this course. Fortunatly for me I passed.

My partner came with me, but we discovered too late the hotel is dog friendly so she went to family. I mean, my partner is my rock and support network but having a furry copilot who gets excited over cheese (like, who doesn't?!) is always lovely.

My partner went on holiday the day after the course. She works hard and our shifts conflicted so she went with her mother. I'm at this point looking at a busy work week, so the furry little copilot is going to have to stay with family while I work.

They say that money issues impact mental health and due to change of jobs ten (!) months ago, I'm trying to live a 30k lifestyle on 20k. I'm not poor but I've had to dig out emergency funds because I had more month at the end of my money, and not May, I mean June's paycheck is gone before the end of May.

More importantly, it was my mothers 30th anniversary on Sunday. They say time heals all wounds and I say fck that. It took me harder than I thought, my partner took the one photo I have of her and got a key chain and an enlarged copy made, so I can bring her with me when I go out. I spent Sunday with in-laws and the doggo.

Caseload in work has been routine and Wednesday was no different except I found the paperwork lacking, the materials damaged and no effort made by the previous shift to do basic inventory checks.  Apparently I was being curt with colleagues, forgetting my manners and being irritable. As the shift progressed, I got more frustrated.

I stimm by rubbing the back of my head, increasing in severity and intensity to relieve stress. When that's not working, I'll escalate to punching myself in the back of my head. I've still got a lump and tender patch two days later.

My manager is mental health first aid trained and she calmly explained to my colleagues what was happening and how it would play out. She reorientated me to tasks, stripping away any other issues. She involved our manager, I'm man enough to say i cried to her, who released me from work, pushed an occupational health referral for support. I contacted my own head doc but she's not available until next week.

So I have a week off. I'm going to see my parents. My bestie built me a spreadsheet for household finances. I'm going home for a few days to see friends, family and be away for a bit.

I think a good reflection, apart from the fact that I was clearly fragile and I need to do more for my mental health (I believe I should be the stoic one who just gets on with work, no matter how bad it is, whereas maybe I should have more me time, which is why I don't do over time), it's how difficult it can be for high functioning autisic people in every day life. I come off as a normal, I've got language, basic literacy skills, relationships, friends (squints at friends), can manage a house (squints at dishes in sink). I think it's a surprise to me (and others) when everything slips and I have, what I imagine looks a violent, meltdown. It's easy to forget I have ASD, and when my colleague began listing the paranoia, anxiety, confusion, head fog, I told her to get out of my head. An overload meltdown is rare but it was a scary enough experience.

Always round up on a positive. There's a job that uses the course I just completed and I need to apply. I'll work on that after the weekend.

Until next time, take care and be awesome to each other.

Update: not even published and I've an update. Work support rang to ensure I was OK, complimented my strategy and support network and told me to call them next week to see if there's even more they can do. How awesome is that?

Monday, 1 April 2019

Mental health

Yes, I'm being unsubtle but screw prose, male mental health is a serious issue that should be openly discussed.

So, if you read back I've talked about throwing away boxes of antidepressants, taking drugs and drink (ironically as therapy) and suicide. No spoilers but I'm back in therapy.

So during the break, I lost a job (and how to frame that might be the challenge of this series of blog posts). Id been doing so well but as a manager I decided to grow and more to a different warehouse unit and well, in my biased opinion, being halfway competent didn't endear me to management.

Long story short, that job loss triggered my anxiety and depression, as well as hidden Complex PTSD. Funny how getting dragged to therapy can uncover things. To paraphrase the Titanic Muesem, I was fine before I went to therapy.

I'm by no means the only one in my circles with mental health issues. I'm all too familiar with the feeling of being FINE, even when you aren't and others can see it. Guess it just took a trained professional to see it.

So currently in therapy.

Anxiety is a hell of a mind fuck, constantly telling me im wrong  and I've missed something vital, but when coupled with depression, it's an absolute burning storm because your mind simultaneously tells you you've cocked something up while also robbing you of your drive to fix it, even when vital things like jobs depend on it. Add to that the autistic paranoia that you're missing social cues and tones (the joke translation of the phrase: "as per my last email" meaning "learn to fucking read" is a good example), and I'm honestly surpised I get out of bed some days.

But then I realise that there are people much worse than I and I guess another day in work won't kill me. Oh woe is me with my job and sustainable income and life partner and dog.

This month is autism awareness month, so I should find some way to capitalise on that. Oh well next week......

Saturday, 25 March 2017

Looking to the future.

I took last week off for holidays, so logically it follows i have an interesting and insightful post for today.

Yeah, funny that.

I'm full of weird emotions about the coming week. I start at 08:30, so it'll be an early start. I'm excited, I'm nervous, it's been a two week break due to this and that.

I'm sure things will take off, I'm sure there'll be more to talk about.

I'll decompress after the first week, and then we'll see shall we?

Here's to the future.

What's that? It's Mother's Day?

Oh, um.....hi Ma!

While dads always been great, I'm under the impression that it was my mother who was the driving force behind my initial dyslexia testing in London, although the school may also have been competent in sending me for testing.

My parents are that traditional team, backing up teachers and caring about my development and education. I'm fairly sure that without their drive, support and arrangement of extra classes, I wouldn't be doing as well as I am, and starting a great new job tomorrow. There tied that up nicely.

Right, it's lovely outside and I have stuff to do......

Sunday, 26 February 2017

Ongoing support

So, like always, I'm typing this at 23:46 (Greenwich mean time, HELLO AMERICA!), and am clearly not smart enough to come up with a deep thoughtful post about the philosophical insights into having a brain that's been wired like a blind electrician with Parkinson's fuse box.

This might be a two part post, I don't know, but I'm hoping to stretch it out like pair of worn tight wights, mainly because I'm projecting a bit into the future (next month to be exact).

If you have been paying attention, and I'll forgive you if you haven't, what with this blogs complete reliability and regular posting, I have recently moved jobs. OK, not entirely, because I'm working my notice, but anyway there's a new job on the horizon. This has been met with mixed reactions from: "But the current job is great, how can you give up such a great thing!" to "Yes, new opportunities are worth moving for." Both of these are understandable for people who know how hard it can be for the disabled to hold a job (trust me, disability is NO OBSTACLE to employment, or even running ones own business), but also know that we need to grow and develop to find our true potential (and become masters of the universe or something, I never finished the Aspergers for beginners book).

Back after London (and I'm totally calling my tell all book that, after my Patreon takes off, hint hint), I had plenty of support to get into work. My own Aspie Nurse came into my then job and gave them some helpful pointers (or gave me a helpful pointer: run and don't look back), two Occupational therapists sat me down and gave me some advice (short shifts and good management) and always said they where contactable if required. Fortunately, my current job was hugely supportive and no further external support was required. I put huge store in understanding management and actually busting your own backside at being good and meeting people halfway and not talking for hours about toy soldiers.

Anyway, the new job had occupational health ring me (after I filled in another form, and tacked on another sheet cos those boxes are always too small) and they want to see me before I start so we can slide in support if required. This hugely endears me to both the job and the management because this shows they care and are willing to work with me. It also means that if they decide I need support, I can contact external support and swing "reasonable adjustments" into place.

And this is why it's a two part post, I have yet to meet the Occupational Health team. So will update.

yes, I know I've changed the Aspie spelling, frankly I don't care.

For sarcastic Tweets and articles check out Facebook and Twitter. I will figure out how to put these in a side bar soon enough.....

Sunday, 19 February 2017

My obsession.

The most popular Aspie trait that gets showcased by TV and the recent Movie, The Accountant (which I will not be reviewing thanks, ) is that to make up for the social awkwardness, crippling inability to interact and occasional difficulty finding and keeping gainful employment, all Aspies have a specialised hobby or trait. This can either be something that makes the audience put their hands up and yell "quirky!" or it can be a hyper-analytical mind that can dissect any problem and find an out of the box solution. I guess it gives NT types a warm fuzzy feeling that even though these weird people walk among us, at least they have their uses for society or can be relatable as the one kid in class who thought the history of the penny from 1974 to 1982 was important.

Sadly, idiot savant and Aspie don't over lap as much as we'd all like. Many Aspies are just regular humans with a different brain make up. Ask any one legged dog if different equals better and they will tell you no, although most dogs don't care as long as there's kibble and bits and maybe a post man to bark at, I don't know, having never been a dog and only occasionally enjoying the company of dogs, and post men. This means that more often than not, social anxiety is not cancelled out by some great ability to count cards or meld with technology.

So, aside from trains (OK, not that deeply but come one, technology) and toy soldiers, what do I obsess about? Money. Or change more exactly, and what I can do with it (buy more toy soldiers!!). Or you know, put it into savings. It's watching my savings grow, in multiple accounts, and seeing how much I can get before the money needs to be spent. It's reached the level that its hard to release the money for stuff I need, like dental work (you're welcome)or buying  a car. You know, stuff I might actually benefit from owning. So, when people say I am a contributing member of society, yeah, the building society.

This should then translate into a need to gain said money through any means necessary, right? (this is called foreshadowing kids, so NO ONE can complain when I start doing Patreon or putting ads on my blog). Well no, because money is nice but trade offs are required. Could I work a full month with no days off? Yes, but by the end of it "offensively aspie" is redundant. Could I be working in a job that pays £50K+ a year? Maybe, but I lack the imagination to know what kind of job makes that money or how to get into it (trading stocks, the hell?). Can I ask for it in job interview? Maybe, but there is nothing more off putting than someone in interview demanding money or a raise on the basic offer. Knowing how hard work is to gain for Aspies, I'm mindful that while I can change my lott in life, maybe accepting the things I can't change immediately is a good plan. You may have guessed I'm currently being interviewed for a new job and this topic has resurfaced while dealing with my new employers (I stay stum about money, it's nice to have, but not a factor in getting or keeping a job).

I also love my tech. My Lord, technology. If I don't have at least two gizmo's on the go at once, I'm either sick or asleep (or driving, let's be reasonable here). But that's for another post.......


Check out some other stuff fo distract you from work: Facebook, Twitter, Patreon (made you look)

Sunday, 12 February 2017

textures

OK, so last week (also known as Tuesday, remind me not to have weekends out while feeling smug), the post was a little dark and unpleasant, and as funny as a dead badger in a birthday cake. In a change of pace, I think we'll go with something a bit odd, and unusual but at the same time mostly familiar, because we're all weird.

I am horribly adverse to smell, with a fairly sensitive sense of smell. Now, dad has this too, so I'm assuming its genetic, and I do enjoy it as my super power, because if my Aspy traits have yet to make me an idiot savant who can add complex numbers and know my 56th birthday is a Tuesday (I'm guessing here, but if I'm right BOOYA! guess we can ignore the rest of this sentence), then they have yet to manifest themselves.

I can tell a valeted room has had a smoker in it, I can whiff dinner down the road, and I cannot stay in Lush for long. I end up being the boyfriend stood out side (while my partner no doubt runs wild inside with a credit card selling our future to the devil for lavender scented bath bombs and never ending candles). Last time I went in voluntarily I spent exactly two minutes and found the first bath bomb that looked vaguely interesting, grabbed it, threw money at the general direction of the cash register and ran. It's not that I get overwhelmed, as such, but i begin to get the cloying smell up my nose and it causes me to feel nauseated. It's great. So I'd rather be outside, rather than queasy.

The same goes for texture. I prefer soft cotton, mostly in bedding. I can't stand cheap silk, or generally silk, texture bedding. My mother has pillow cases with  faux fur strips and I need to flip it over and sleep on the clear side (there I said it, watch her stop reading), equally fur pillows put me off. I like my bedding and it better be 100% comfy and soft because I am the highest level of under cover agent and I swear to Zod if I need to be out of bed it better be work or food. And prehaps not even the second one.  

I only mention all this, because Lord knows I'm not famous enough yet to have random people mail me bedding, because the other half went out and got silk bedding. Not Cheap silk bedding but still, I got back the dirty bedding out of the wash basket and wrapped myself in that, much to everyone Else's chagrin.

I'm also very keen on heavy bedding, sheets alone are for weirdos, although in hot summer nights even my love of being crushed into the mattress by massive blankets is beaten by the sweats. I actually don't know why, but i guess its a safety thing. I know some Aspies like being crushed to make them feel "normal". My skin isn't that sensitive, so nudity is fine, but I love the feeling of soft tight bedding.

Actually scratch that, I do have hyper sensitive skin when touched and dissolve into fits of giggles and shudders (shivers? I dunno, not a doctor) and often flinch before being touched. believing a lovers hand will be rough as sandpaper and heavy on me. One ex asked if I'd be beaten as a child. Apparently the answer that beatings continued until moral improved was "not funny" and "sick". Good for her.

Recently, I went to a job interview. Nothing fancy and I felt the sit down in a suit bit went fine, but showing me round the facilities put me off. They had a garish yellow and blue decor that made me feel deeply and weirdly uncomfortable. Nothing I could put my finger on, but even typing this makes my skin crawl. I just couldn't see myself working there, simply because the colours would make me feel off. So no new job, yet.........

Anyway, I'm off to bed, it's missing me already.....

Usual begging BS here: Facebook & Twitter

Sunday, 8 March 2015

Mini freak outs

So, I may have previously said I don't suffer meltdowns as they are typically pictured that aspies have, generally over what might be seen as minor or insignificant things. Turns out, I might have been lying about that without realising it, which makes it a lie of omission and as we all know the sin of omission isn't the worst (*nods vigorously*).

I had what I consider in hindsight to be a well controlled melt down in work. In the most basic sense I lost my temper when another department decided to do something out of order (as in list order) and didn't warn me. I had dutifully walked down to the other department to finalise some business and found that the paperwork in question was now on my desk, delaying me and knocking my tight schedule. I may have at this point felt the fire I usually get in my arms and legs when I feel my choler rising, kept back up the stairs two at a time, and enjoyed a half hours tunnel visit and gritted teethed grumbling. 

I can cope with changes to orders, I generally anticipate change and try to take the long view but some times, occasionally, I won't be given a quick heads up when there's a change (how hard is it to give two minutes notice?) and it messes with my hour plan. In that I need to adapt and change, something I consider myself fairly decent at, but for five minutes it is best to let me reorder my head and not try to interrupt my new game plan.

This realisation explains a number of things. It explains why yesterday I had an attack of creeping paranoia, why I felt drained after work, and why I ended up coming home and sleeping the afternoon away (the fact that I've had a sleepless night has nothing to do with that, I'm sure). I also clearly didn't reorder my head properly as work called me back to complete a task I had left. Walked back to work and sorted that (fortunately I hadn't taken my legs off, so it wasn't hassle). 

I think that every day is a lesson, whether you realise it or not. Lesson from today is one I should learn repeatedly, and that is to double check my work before going off shift. I isn't always easy, one of the girls hugged me before she left and said I looked grumpy, which is fair as I was annoyed at myself for snapping at a member of the afternoon team. I did apologise and the girls are understanding. Double checking can be a pain but it means that if my head is not fully ordered, I am at least ensuring that nothing is missed, even if it takes a little longer to get away.

My final realisation is something I really hadn't thought about. I ran up stairs in my new legs. I took two steps at a time even, without thinking, tripping or falling. Ok, so I was out of puff after two flights but still. At the moment I'm about as graceful as a baby deer on ice going down stairs, with handrails being the greatest invention ever and until to day I felt like a Dalek approaching stairs when ascending was required (yeah yeah, convenient plot device, they can fly now), with plenty of tripping and swearing (quietly).

I guess you lean something new every day.....

Monday, 26 January 2015

Physio update.

So today was my last day of intense one on one physio. There'll be more, but from now on its gym sessions then a review in a month (for anyone paying attention, tomorrow is my orthotics fitting so the review in a month thing lets the physio see how well I'm doing while having my legs corrected), and then I will be told to join a gym and spread my own little wings and take some responsibility for my own   work outs.

What matters from today's session is the physio retest. I scored 50/56 on "admission", proving I'm not as contractured or disabled as others, and today I scored 56/56. Two months of weekly visits has already made a significant change. Hopefully with more work and the orthotics, things will continue to improve. 

In other news, I rang my local MP to find out more about their stance on the subtle cuts not only in disability support but also in work schemes for the disabled. I've blogged before about not doing unsupported posts, and I plan on reading up about cuts before I go on a gut busying tirade, but if what little I have read is true, then it's deeply worrying. 

Fortunately, my managers  manager told me recently she felt that I was doing "really well" after three months in my new post and my manager by proxy (my own manager got one of those holiday things I hear so much about) told me I was doing "well". I feel I'm doing fair to middling (which I think is a nonsense phrase meaning "it's ok but I'm being modest") but I would rather under estimate myself than get over confident. My own managers recent preformce review of me is so good that I feel it's not a review at all but inspiration to do better again this year. I've said as much and he laughed, which is code for he's caught.

So orthotics tomorrow, in the mean time, enjoy this gem:


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.

 

Saturday, 20 September 2014

Selective pressures

Repeat after me: this is not a work blog, this is not a work blog, this is NOT a work blog.

Right, now that we have that out of the way, lets talk about work.

Aspies struggle in work, I have struggled in work, and there's some key things that I have discovered about managing in work.

Work, as much as it gets moaned about ("we wouldn't call it work if it where fun"), is an essential structure in life, and it forms a framework for me, at least. It gives me an abundance of human interaction, it gives me achievable goals and relatively easy tasks. I am incredibly lucky (repeatedly) that I do something I love, that I can manage, and that I find rewarding. Without work, what else would I do?

I've already discussed the idea of getting a support worker/nurse to speak to a manager, who can provide skills, insight and management techniques. It also gives the support worker a chance to get a feel for the work environment and the management team, giving them the ability to give tailored support and if needs must, tell the Aspie when it's time to find a new job (something I'll accept is tough for Aspies as it is).

The Internet loves lists, so here goes (on a side note, I hate slide show lists):

First rule: Be honest. "I have this difference, but these are my coping mechanisms, this are my behaviours, this is my support worker and this is what I do well." It's how I got my current job, I was brutally honest, and here I am more than a year later going for a promotion and have extra roles.

Second: As mentioned, bring in that support, ask for reasonable adjustments, whatever is required.

Thirdly: Try to gauge a good manager. This is tough, I know, but again this is where a support worker or nurse can do wonders. They will spot the managers who actually care, as opposed to those who want to just do the bare minimum and then wash their hands as someone struggles. I have repeatedly turned down jobs because the manager has come off wrong, or I didn't like the work environment. I have stated that money won't buy me, but a decent manager will.

Fourth: Find a job that encompasses a field of interest. It is repeated as major trait of Aspergers that we have a few special interests and social situations, and this is certainly true but that doesn't mean an aspy cannot do something they are gifted at. I've been told my speciality interest is women (Ladies) and the handling of social situations with them (read: flirting), but honestly my current job, and the current speciality certainly, is an interest of mine (I totally didn't buy the book for the next course before the course has been announced, I swear). This special interest become a TV trope of course, claiming we all have superpowers, but unless being able to nap anywhere is a superpower, I haven't got one. (Narcolepsy Man: STOP! or I'll zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz).

Five: Pick a specific area to work in. Yes this sounds obvious, but in my current field if I worked in a large workplace, with many departments or sections or offices with uncontrolled workload coming in I would not do as well as I am. By selecting the pressures, I am thriving, eliminating certain factors that may put me in a spin by picking a workplace that automatically eliminates those factors.

I am very sure this list isn't exhaustive, but right now I'm drawing a blank (I got distracted by TV).

I'll revisit it as soon as my brain starts working.