Quitting My Job

I had been working at a nonprofit agency for almost two years. It was a long time for me to keep a job, because in the past with my illness I had trouble with work, and I still have trouble, so that I can only work part time. I have problems with memory, organization, because of Schizophrenia, and, because of physical problems, low energy and physical pain.

I liked this particular job, which I found after I had been living in a group home and taking medication, and starting to get better for a while. But at the same time, I did not like certain things about it. One particular person I had to share an office with was really, really, really difficult to work with and constantly harassing me about my work performance. Despite my problems, I worked hard, and generally, I did a good job, but this person as always on my case and made life absolutely miserable for me at this agency. She was the most negative human being I have ever met, and I could not be paid enough money to stay with her for more years putting up with her constant abuse. Complaints to the management yielded no results, so I decided, after spending a week in the hospital, that this job was not worth my mental health, and quit.

I feel as if a million pounds of stress have been lifted off my back, now that I have no job, and for someone who is unemployed to be relieved about it is strange. But it was a rough job. Everybody who was kind to me there told me I would be better off just leaving, and when I did, they told me that I made the right choice. Everybody I know said I should just leave there when I told them about the job. So I know it was something that I did after much thought and consideration of the outcomes, and I'm not upset that I made this choice. I'm rather happy about it. At the same time, I did not manage to find another job before quitting, so I have to worry about that.

Today, in order to get a decent reference from this job, I went to my "exit interview'. I took the opportunity to tell the human resources manager exactly why I was leaving, and how this job had caused me untoward amounts of stress, which had negative effects on my health. I said that if the situation with the person who harassed me had been handled differently, it would have made a big difference. I suggested that they make the job a 30 hour a week job, rather than 20, because there was no way to get all the work done well in 20 hours a week. And I said there were things I liked about working there too, and I told her I liked my boss, and I said goodbye and left.

The prospect of finding a new job is not nearly as daunting as the stress of spending another day having anxiety attacks and crying in the bathroom at that place was. It was not worth it. I gritted my teeth all day long, listening to the incessent insults and criticisms of a deranged person who treated me like garbage and got paid for it, for nearly two years. That was not worthwhile.

Unfortunately, however, this woman is not the only reason I left the job. My illness, of course, was rearing its ugly head, and that had a lot to do with why I left.

Anyone who has read this blog's old posts knows that I've gotten much better with my illness over the last couple of years, but my illness is still something I live with everyday. It makes organization really hard for me. It makes me forget just about everything, or at least quite a few things. My medication adds to my forgetfulness, creating a problem that I tried to explain to the company I worked for by telling them I had an illness that caused memory problems. However, you can only explain yourself away this way so many times before your forgetfulness becomes reason enough for a company to figure out a way to fire you, which is what they were about to do with me at my job.

My desk, in recent weeks, became piled with papers, much like the junk piled all over my apartment. I find it very hard to stay organized, and when my symptoms are worsening my messes become terrible. I was in the hospital for a week, so my boss took over my desk and went through everything, and got to see just how much of a mess I actually had created. This, of course, became another reason for which he could fire me, and he nearly did, I believe.

So now I have to think hard before I take another job. I have to make sure I find something that is not too stressful, yet, also, not too boring. I have to find something that I can handle, that won't overwhelm me, and that won't demand that I be a neat-freak or remember a million things all the time. I have to find something a little bit easier, I guess, than the job I had before.

In the end, I will miss my job. I will miss the feeling of accomplishment I got from it. But I will not miss the crap that it involved, and I will be glad to be rid of it overall.

Thanks for listening.