1066 All Stars

The last instalment in this series took us through my University years. This time in my life had such a fundamental impact on my future mental well being that, inevitably, I don’t feel as though I did it justice. Hey, I don’t have an editor you know, I just write down whatever words happen to fall out of my brain (scaramanga – see!?). So perhaps I’ll revisit that period again at some point.

In the meantime, having left Uni, I set off into the great unknown…

Closer Than Close

As University drew to a close, I decided I had better get a job. Having by now firmly ingrained the notion that I was a clown and therefore incapable of a proper, sensible career, I applied at a local bookmakers on the basis that there was a shop at the end of the road.

I ended up spending two years with the company. I started as a lowly cashier but soon progressed to assistant and then shop manager. I didn’t especially enjoy it at the time; the hours were long and the pay was short. But it gave me a chance to demonstrate some responsibility and establish an identity. I developed a sense of confidence, became an effective trainer and demonstrated to myself that I could work independently and build rapport with others. The frequent downtime also gave me ample opportunity to work on a book I was writing at the time.

But perhaps the biggest take away was the friendships I made. That I remain friends with the first person I ever worked with there (a truly wonderful woman) is something of which I am proud. I also met a special lady from Wales, who would go on to become a flatmate and very dear friend. Plus I met a girl called Karen, but more on her later.

Eventually I tired of retail life and after an unfulfilling stint in temping, got an opportunity for an office job with a finance company.

I didn’t have a clue what they did but, buoyed by my relative success at the bookies, I felt confident that I could establish myself here. My confidence was quickly shattered as I realised that I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t know the systems or the people, I was afraid to ask questions. But this soon passed. I applied myself and carved out a place. I soon found myself promoted, initially to a senior administrator, then to a team leader. I felt confident to play the lead role.

But cracks appeared. I started to become stressed, taking the work too personally. I would procrastinate over queries, hoping they would go away rather than having to tackle them. I struggled with the concept of being a manager versus just being one of the team. I noticed (sought out?) instances of people who didn’t take to me. I sensed that they found me big headed, full of myself and, yes, arrogant. I wanted more; responsibility, recognition; money. But at the same time, a fissure of doubt ran right through the middle of me.

After a couple of years, and having met and hired my future wife (more on her later), I changed departments, moving into a credit based role. And for the first time in my working life, I found myself feeling utterly hopeless.

From virtually day one, I felt out of my depth. I had been a team leader, used to taking charge and leading by example. Now, I was the junior in a department of more capable, more experienced, more intelligent people. I felt intimidated by my manager. I felt small, like a timid little boy. I screwed something up, not realising my error for several months. I then spent the next year worrying that my error would be discovered, spending all my waking time ruminating over it. Within months of joining the team, ostensibly a promotion, I wanted to go back. But that door was closed.

And so I stuck at it and, with perseverance and hard work, I started to get better. I became confident in my skills, I became trusted and I built some respect. Eventually an opportunity came up for a new role within the department, to manage a small team-within-a-team. I excelled, I felt confident and happy and felt that I was really contributing something. I was even awarded employee of the month.

And then around two years in, I got the itch. I felt that I should be earning more and that I deserved more recognition. I saw my peers progressing, people who I deemed either junior to me or simply less capable getting opportunities for progression whilst I stood still. And so I sought a move to the Risk department, a story I will tell another day.

As with University, it is difficult to convey just how impactful this period of my life was. These were formative years, I very much grew up with this company. I made friends, I developed skills, I got drunk (a lot) and I had fun. But by turns I also felt hopelessly incompetent.

But the worst was very much yet to come.