So far I've learned...well... that I'm a snowflake. A big baby. A mess.
I didn't know there would be so many tests! Everything from basic multiple-choice comprehension tests to bizarre skills tests where you fake-open an email and fake-respond to a live-chat while filling out a spreadsheet. Personality tests that mess with your head worse than an optometrist lens test (better? worse? always? sometimes? oh god oh god I don't know maybe? sure?). Proofreading tests. Writing tests. Math tests. MATH tests. Ugh. You want to see me in wild-eyed red-alert mode, watch me take a multiple choice mathematics test. Some tests I've passed, some I have failed, some I have cartwheeled down the side of the mountain with my skis inexplicably on fire.
Plus interviewing is the ultimate test: can I behave like a hireable human being in a way where I feel kind of like myself but also please the people interviewing me without being super obvious that I'm trying to please them but that's the whole point and oh it falls apart so easily. I haven't crashed and burned yet but even the non-responses, the no-callbacks, they feel like failures.
Failing gets in my head.
Even though it's for jobs I won't get; hell, jobs I never had to begin with, all these micro-failures solidify in my mind as confirmations of my fraud. That I don't belong here, doing any of this. That I'll never get anywhere. It awakens the Kraken-voice from inside my deep self-hating soul, the one that loves to tell me that I suck, that I have no business trying, that I am the worst, etc.
I know that Kraken-voice is a liar, and the worst thing I can do is believe it. I tell my friends that all the time. Knowing it and believing it are two different things. In the past few years I got really good at keeping it at bay, but that was when the failures were few and far between. When you start a pattern of failing, the Kraken-voice gets loud and constant. Learning from failure becomes impossible because you're so overwhelmed by doubt. Soon you're just the helpless captain of a tiny rowboat cowering in front of a gigantic sea monster that's shouting at you.
It's been a long time for me since that voice has been so constant. Friends and colleagues say 'You're awesome, you'll find something!' or 'I'm so not worried about you, you'll be fine! Don't worry!' and that worked really well when it was only one or two failures but eventually I started whispering to myself 'Have you seen what it's like in here?'
When the shit hits the fan I'm a sentient attic full of spiderwebs. Picture me running to my emotional toolbox and all I have is a broken ruler, a tiny screwdriver and a hair-tie.
Cool. Great. I guess I'll just cry then.
I self-medicate with caffeine, music and bingewatching European crime procedurals. I always get back on the horse, I haven't retreated to bed permanently. But every time I get back on the horse I feel a little more unsure of myself, more confused about who I really am, and less sure of where I'm even going or what I'm supposed to do.
I'm not saying I'm unique or suffering from any special brand of depression that other people aren't battling on a much bigger scale. What's happening here with me is the mundane reality that the chickens of a lifetime's worth of low self-esteem are finally coming home to roost.
What I've seen within myself these past two months, what I'm learning, is that you can't magically ~become~ confident. It doesn't work that way. It's like having a sportscar in the driveway for 40 years and you suddenly decide you want to take it out for a spin. You jump in the driver's seat and turn the key...and the battery's dead. And the tires are flat. And there's a family of mice living under the dashboard. Confidence has to be maintained, it doesn't just appear. The value of maintaining it, of practicing belief in yourself when you don't need it, is that when it's strong enough it can shout down that Kraken-voice. The Kraken-voice says "You suck" and your confidence Mecha strides through the water and choke-slams the Kraken saying "Pfft whatever. I don't suck, I was under-prepared. I'll know next time to spend longer on preparation." and the Kraken slips away back under the waves. (Or perhaps I have watched Pacific Rim too many times.)
It takes a while to get to that point, but eventually that's what it can look like. Or so I've heard. I'm still getting there.
Practicing confidence for me right now boils down to practicing being my own friend. It sounds corny! I sound like a self-help book! But it's true and it works.
Like, I might say to myself "I don't really want to look for jobs this morning. I think I'm just gonna read this morning and recharge for tomorrow."
I might reply "Dude, I get it. The book IS really good. But isn't that kind of playing it safe? You're too good at what you do to take yourself out of the game just yet. Make a cup of tea and spend an hour jobsearching, and then reward yourself by reading your book. C'mon, it'll be fine."
On the other hand, if you're jobsearching and you're like, "I'm just going to apply for these, I don't care, I know I'm not qualified but I have to do something or I'll feel like I've failed."
Then I might reply, "No way. You're doing this for you. Not for anyone else. It seems like you're getting a bit wiggy on the jobsearching today, maybe it's time to take a break and go do something that will take your mind off it? Go see a movie or take a walk or take a day trip. Change of scenery. It'll still be here tomorrow when you're in a better frame of mind. Don't punish yourself."
Ughhhhhhh I know I know it sounds cornier even more now that I've written it like that and I probably sound like more of a mollycoddled snowflake but the honest truth is that it feels nice to be my own friend. It really does. I'm not usually that nice to myself, and it's a lot less stressful. And, with practice and regularity, over time it starts putting actual helpful tools in my emotional toolbox for when I need them.
So that there's not just spiderwebs in my attic.
So that my sportscar will actually start when I turn the key.
So that the Mecha can always chokeslam the Kraken.
It really does help an awful lot of metaphors.
