1066 All Stars

Dare To Risk It All

Frustrated with my lack of progression, in 2008 I sought a transfer to our internal risk team. I thought it would give me an opportunity to learn some more technical skills and develop a genuine career path.

I was aware that the department head had a reputation as a whip cracker but I was confident I could handle it. My move kept getting delayed for various reasons but, with a couple of weeks to go until my start date, I went for an introductory session. And immediately I regretted deciding to move.

Within weeks of starting, I wanted out. I registered with job agencies and searched vacancy websites fruitlessly. For the second time, I felt that I had made a horrendous career error. Again, I sought a way back to my old team and again found that door had closed behind me.

And again, I felt out of my depth. I had no formal training, I didn’t know what on earth I was doing. The manager was incredibly demanding, from the old school of expecting you to learn on the job, either get with the program or get out. Fortunately I found myself around a team of really decent, supportive people. I made friends with one in particular, the only girl on the team (an interesting side bar) and we all supported each other when one of us got a tongue lashing.

During this time, Karen and I looked to start a family, only to discover that I had some plumbing issues. IVF would ultimately come to our rescue but these were stressful times. The combination of this, but even more so the sense of being hopelessly unqualified and out of my depth, took me to the doctor where I went onto anti-depressants for the first time.

And yet bit by bit, I started to build credibility. Once again, I found myself a trusted member of the team, relied upon by my colleagues. I delivered a report, highlighting some key failings, that drew praise from the managing director, who described it as ‘the best report I’ve read all year.’ But I still felt out of my depth, still felt that I lacked the basic training required to do my job competently. I felt like a fraud, waiting to be caught out.

I decided to speak to HR. I asked for some time off, unpaid, just to get a break, They refused, understandably, insisting that I would need to see the GP to secure time off. Instead, the opportunity arose to go back to my old job. The circumstances had changed, the role had somewhat evolved, and I had the chance to go back in as a senior figure to address some performance issues.

And it was glorious! I felt like I had come back home. I chucked myself into it with enthusiasm, thrilled to be doing something I felt competent at, putting out fires and restoring order. But after a while, there were no more fires to fight and I didn’t know what to do with myself. My manager at the time astutely observed that I was great at managing in a crisis but didn’t know how to operate at normal speed. I would later come to understand this as a symptom of anxiety.

My reporting line would change and I began to take on more responsibility. Processes were reviewed, staff numbers were trimmed, tasks were absorbed. It never occurred to me to say no. I started to spend more time at work and so to ease the load, was given a laptop. Great idea; now I could spend longer at work plus do even more work at home. I felt I always had to play catch up, always try and stay one step ahead in case someone realised that I was a fraud and it all came tumbling down. I was running on fumes.

And yet I had fun too. I had a small team but we had a real bond. I knew everyone and knew all the systems. I enjoyed having my own little domain.

Then came my performance review. It turned out that as hard as I was working, I sucked.

That was the final straw. I knew I had a problem and I knew I needed help. I had become miserable and obsessive. I had lost interest in life. I wanted to be struck down with some non-fatal but debilitating illness so that I wouldn’t have to work. I spoke to HR, spoke to Occupational Health, spoke to the NHS and spoke to a psychiatrist before finally, I rebuilt my life at The Priory.

One of the last things my department head said to me was how we needed to start rebuilding my confidence. My role was then made redundant just as I was due to leave therapy.

Life Is For Living

So there we have it, a whistle stop tour through some of the key events in my life that have shaped my view of the world and my place within it.

It is temptingly easy to work backwards, find an instance of anxiety and think, ‘Ah look, here is where it started.’ Being made redundant, getting referred to a mental hospital, feeling out of my depth, feeling unlovable. Each taken in isolation can be traced to an earlier example.

But the truth is far more complex. These are not behaviours learned in the last few years, these are life long thinking patterns, established and reinforced until thought passes as fact.

And so I challenge the thought, I confront the feeling and, with patience, understanding and kindness to myself, I seek to change my behaviour.