So, there’s a lot of ‘sock’ accounts that have been bringing up the fact that, being the clever little cookies that they are, they’ve found that once upon a time I worked for an accountancy firm. Kudos guys, you’ve managed to do a perfectly simple google search and find me. I’m unsure as to why you keep feeling the need to spread it about online seems as though I literally worked there for a year.
So, this ones for you and your little obsession.
I don’t know if many of you have read my mental health blog. It details a time in my life when I was really struggling, my mental health was a mess and I just wasn’t doing okay. Caught in a cycle of constant anxiety, financial issues and self harm, I finally started to find my feet again with the help of some amazing people, and so I made the decision to move back into my parents. It was a hard decision, I’ve always been super independent which is a culmination of going to boarding school (common for army kids) and moving out at the age of seventeen. Because of this, giving up my job and going home was a hard decision for me, but I knew it was the best one I could make. I needed it. This was further backed up when I met my parents in town one day and they saw the state of me. I was losing weight rapidly, tired and withdrawn, something which worried my father so much that he asked me to go back. I am so lucky to have them.
And so, I gave up my job and went back. I lived there for about six months, slowly but surely getting better, with a constant stream of mum’s food being tipped down my throat and just having that security of not having to worry about anything. I went walking in the hills, started writing here and there, began talking to people about my issues, and I finally had some quiet in my life where I could reflect on my therapy and just build myself back up.
As time went on, and I felt better, I realised that it was time to return back to the world of work. I’d always worked in bars in the past, something that my parents hated because they perceived me to be ‘above it’ (yeah, it’s weird) but I absolutely loved it. I love meeting new people, I love busy environments and I love a little bit of drama in the workplace, so I thrived in a bar environment. So I fully intended to go back into the field, but someone in the family approached me one day and offered me an apprenticeship in her accountancy firm. I was taken aback to be honest, I’ve always been the rebel of the family. I had piercings, visible tattoos, three dreadlocks poking out of the side of my head. But this family member was trying to offer me a foundation, something to allow me some stability in my life and a future to look forward to.
So, I took it. The job was in the next town over where I only knew one person (who very luckily had a spare room to rent) so I would be starting afresh, something that I didn’t mind. My other friends were more than happy to come to see me, so I knew I wouldn’t be lonely.
And so it started. I bought a load of suits/dresses (bleh), cut the dreads out of my hair, took my piercings out and started work. Due to being on an apprentice wage, I needed to subsidise myself to afford to live, so I took a bar job in the local metal pub as well, meaning I’d be working seven days a week. Weirdly, I didn’t mind it. The pub meant that I made friends quickly with like minded people, and it was an amazing way to blow off steam.
In truth, I loved my new town. The people were incredible, it was a beautiful place and I made a lot of friends. One of which was my closest companion, who, as time went on, we became closer and closer. And now he’s stuck in a mortgage with me and has very much so, rooted me to this town. I loved the town, but it soon became very apparent that I did not love the office life.
I tried hard to fit into the office environment, I really did. It was a half eight til five job, which was easy for me as I was used to twelve hour shifts in bars, but what I wasn’t used to was how much time I would spend behind a desk. My entire day was dedicated to staring at a computer screen, and there would be days at a time when I would be left on my own with a list of tasks to complete.
I really struggled in college. I joined about a quarter of the way through the year and trust me when I say, accountancy is bloody hard. I tried and tried to catch up, but having to work to keep myself afloat, I did struggle. I struggled being alone in the office, I struggled having a role that was so solitary only really speaking to people on the phone and I struggled with the workload. I felt so guilty, knowing that I had been given this opportunity but slowly realising I wasn’t built for this life. I was meant to be around people, and I wanted, more than anything else, to help people.
And so, I ended up leaving. I was supported in this, the person who gave me the role knew that I wasn’t made for it either and asked me what I wanted to do. I spent a little time working in a cafe as well as the bar, and volunteering at the local LGBT counselling office. I kept applying for care work in the area as well as roles within the local hospital. Eventually, I found the role that I am still in til this day, starting there as a relief worker to give me experience, and now I’m a full time support worker.
So, that’s my wee foray into the world of accountancy and office work.
For those of you out there that keep pulling this up and attempting to doxx me with it online, there’s your explanation. Well done, you found my old job, something which I tried, failed at, and moved on from.
As they say, God loves a trier, and if it wasn’t for me trying and failing, I wouldn’t have realised that I was meant for something more people orientated. Wouldn’t have found the joy that I do in being a care work.
Thanks for reading guys