I am despairing at my mother. She tries to help but just ends up making me feel 10x worse about myself. Today I emailed a few recruitment agencies I’d been registered with in the summer before everyhting went wrong. I mostly did this because she’d been nagging me even though I’m fairly sure none of them will have anything available given that hiring temporary staff is one of the first things to be cut from company budgets when times are hard. So yeah, I got off my arse and actually did something to help myself. Yay me, right?
No, of course not. I should have gone in and seen them even though every time I’ve done so in the past they’ve just told me to email in my CV. But no, apparently visiting creates a good impression even if they don’t ask my name and will have no way to relate the CV I’d get asked to email in to me anyway. So in effect I was trying to save myself a trip to town and the waste of a day. But of course it’s not good enough, because mental health problems aren’t real and this is all my fault right?
So now I’ve shouted and feel rubbish about myself all over again. I don’t know how she manages it, I really don’t. The ability to get under my skin and make me feel a total failure even when she’s saying the opposite. Like constantly telling me I was capable of getting more than a 2.ii in my degree. I know that, hell, the whole world knows that and I’m not proud of it. I should have achieved more but I didn’t so why keep reminding me?
Or telling me I shouldn’t be suprised not to get JSA if I declared I had a partner. Because of course commiting benefit fraud for the sake of £50 a week would be so worth it. Maybe I should just go the whole way of listening to her, come off my venaflaxine as I clearly don’t need it and nothing in my life could possibly be bad, I mean think of all those people out there who are worse off. And while I’m about it, why don’t I just take some nice herbal remedies because those are so much better than the carefully researched, medically approved alternative.
I did have an interview today courtesy of my ickle brother (what’s life coming to when you rely on younger siblings to get you work), doing stockroom work. They reckon they might be able to offer me something up to 13 hours a week. Not a lot but better than nowt right. Except for;
1) It would mostly be weekends so I’d see Nick even less than I do already
2) It really ain’t what I want to do
3) The pay’s shit
But I should be grateful to maybe have something right?
p.s. When trying to cheer oneself up by browsing t’internet don’t be tempted to take depression tests especially if you’re going to find you score off the scale for severe depression in all of them, even the one aimed at geriatrics.
p.p.s. Does anyone know how to block access to solitaire on my laptop as I can become strangely obsessed with it. My mind forms weird links like if I can win another game everything will be alright and I’m achieving even less than I owuld do otherwise because of it.