1066 All Stars

The More Things Change…

As part of my redundancy, I was afforded the opportunity to see a career advisor to help me back into the workplace. They helped with my CV and online profile amongst other things but the principle thing they stressed was that job offers often come from our own network of contacts. And in a round about way, so it proved.

Finding the recruitment agency process to be a dead end, I made contact with a company that operated in the same sector as my previous role. I had already had informal discussions about a role with the company via a third party some months previously and it seemed a natural fit; my skills and experience would translate perfectly.

And so it was that just before Christmas, a potential role started to emerge. It would take a few weeks to come to fruition but by late January, I was on the move.

It was a temporary role to start with, just a 3 month placement to tackle a project that had come up. But it was a foot in the door and I backed myself to show my worth and earn a more permanent role.

Working in a familiar environment proved to be a double edged sword. On the one hand, I knew the market, I had experience and so I could hit the ground running. On the other, especially considering the circumstances in which I had left, I found myself constantly comparing how we did things at my previous company. That comparison then extended to what my role was versus what it had been, how isolated I felt compared to how many people I used to know until eventually the comfort of familiarity became a smothering blanket. If I was going to be doing the same work, I just wanted to do it in the same place. Doing the same thing somewhere else served only to remind me what I had lost, what I felt had been taken from me.

After 3 months, I was placed onto a permanent contract. My hard work had been rewarded, but challenges still remained. No doubt a combination of redundancy, a temporary contract and my underlying confidence issues,I always felt that I had to justify my position, never truly feeling part of the company. Over 2 years later, I still feel something of an outsider, something I will explore in more detail later.

At the same time I found myself locked in an inner conflict. I had not been a senior executive or anything of that nature, far from it. But I had held a management position with a degree of responsibility and part of my nature pushed me to want to get back to that level. On joining the company, I was keen to show my worth and stake a claim. But as time went on, I became comfortable where I was. My world became quite small, there was little need to speak to anyone outside of the immediate team. And anyway, doing so reminded me that I didn’t know anyone. Before, I was a well-known face. Here, I was a face in the crowd. Speaking to other departments made me think of my previous colleagues in an equivalent role. I gradually became wistful and melancholy, losing the desire to spread my wings.

It became something of a running joke in the team that I would reference my old job constantly. I was hurt at first (I’m rather more thin skinned than I like to show) but I understood. It was a fair cop. That was all I knew, it was my only point of reference. I missed it. Despite it all, I missed it.

Finally there sat underneath it all the spectre of mental health. I felt obliged to hide it, to put on a mask of competency and control. No matter the inner turmoil at being asked to produce a report, speak to a new colleague or draft a letter, I gave the impression of nonchalance. Yet inside, I was wracked with doubt, gnawing away at me.

In time, I felt comfortable enough to share some of my past with colleagues. Not management, but my immediate team members, In a way, it helped me to bond but more to the point, it felt good to be open and honest. This is who I am, for better or worse. I feel no sense of stigma or shame.

Whilst my first year in the job brought stability and restored some semblance of confidence, it would also bring two of the most defining experiences of my life, which we will look at next time.

Still To Come

Blimey, is this still going?

In the final instalment, we revisit the death of my dad, the birth of my boy and we take a look at Brexit (but not as you know it) as I face my very own internal In/Out referendum.