Growing Pains

I, like many, struggle with the aspects of day-to-day life. From the second I wake up to the moment I lay my head on my pillow at night, I feel a weight form in my chest. Though it has always been there to varying degrees of noticeability, it has recently been more prominent, leaving me wondering why.

What is causing me to worry so much that I’m now developing anxiety about going to sleep? I took this thought and, when I could, slept on it. There is almost always a reason why I get into these moods, and I was determined to find out what it was.

After a few long days, I think I have finally found an answer to my problem. Considering everything I could and going back several months in time to when I began to feel this new wave of nervousness, I’ve come to a solid conclusion.

My job.

Though I did an Arts Degree, that is not what I currently do for a living. To be a successful artist, I truly believe you have to have something to say. It doesn’t have to be unique, but your work has to be about something you find passionate about, whether it’s being conveyed through the chosen medium, style, or subject matter. At the end of the day, it has to matter, or at least that’s my take on it. My work was fun to do, but it never said anything about me or what I cared for. Even disregarding what I just said, getting my work seen was a whole other beast. I made an account for it on Instagram and an Etsy Shop, but getting a foothold in the industry was something I struggled too much with. I became burnt out and struggled to create anything that brought me joy.

Somewhere along the line of this idealistic fantasy, I had convinced myself that if I had money, I would make it big as I would be able to buy fancy art equipment, maybe even a proper camera. I’ve always been on and off when it came to looking for jobs, but as my Arts Degree was ending, I knew I had no more excuses for finally getting one, and after only being out of my Art Program for a month or so, I did.

Naturally, I was delighted at first. This was my first ever job, and, as strange as it is to say, I finally felt like a grown-up. The day before my first shift was a 4-hour training course in which I met two other new starters for the location where I’d be working (Both of which have left now for various reasons). Three months on, and I’m about to go from Part-Time to Full-time.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy they want to make me permanent for the Customer Assistant role, but even writing this now makes my stomach feel heavy. As of right now, the time is 1:37 in the morning, and tomorrow (technically today), I have work. Instead of getting a good night’s rest for a 7-hour shift which begins at noon, I’m on my laptop typing away at this article for Vocal.

Why?

Why am I doing this to myself?

The people at work are friendly a lot of the time, and the same can be said for the customers though you do get a bad one now and then. The pay is good for what it is, though I’m still an irresponsible spender. I get a staff discount which my parents will be able to use too, which is great. Everything seems fine… So why is the pit in my stomach still there?

There are a small number of reasons, all of which have to, unfortunately, do with the people I work alongside.

For anyone, being a newcomer in a group can be difficult at first. This feeling is then amplified by those with quite bad social anxiety, such as myself. I find it hard to start and maintain conversations; I tend to avoid eye contact, and, to be honest, I’m not that interesting of a person. A conversation is a two-way street, and I know I could do more on my end, but I know that some (not all) of my colleagues could do more too.

My colleagues have all been working there for a while with each other, it’s completely natural that they would be closer with one another than with me, but I can’t help but feel like an unwanted guest at times.

Take, for example, when I ask for my breaks. The shift length determines the length of the break, so I always try to plan accordingly. When I’m on the shop floor, I can tell the shift leader that I’ll be taking it, and off I go to the breakroom. Being on the till is a different story. As you can’t leave the till unattended, you have to ask for permission to leave, and that’s fine. Unfortunately, what isn’t fine is when I’m on the till and have to interrupt the two colleagues on the shop floor who are having a lot of fun. I press the button on my headset and ask for my break. When the shop is almost empty, you can hear right away the moment they stop having fun, and you know the reason as to why instantly. It’s because of you. After a couple of seconds of awkward silence, the shift leader will be the one who typically responds. More recently, my issues have been coming from the same guy, and his response didn’t exactly make me feel the best.

One moment, I could hear him and a peer laughing and chatting from across the relatively small building. After requesting my break, his response was a monotone, “Yeah, that’s fine.”

I’ve always felt bad for breaking up others’ fun, but this shift leader, in particular, doesn’t help the ever-growing pit in my stomach. Similarly, I’m the type of person who will put off their break by a few minutes or even longer if I think I’m going to ruin their fun too much. Everyone seems to have such good time stocking shelves together, except when it’s with me.

I know for a fact that if I was with one of them on the shop floor while the other was on the till it would be dead silent. I’m generally okay with silences, but knowing that I’m the reason there would essentially be no joy is a bit heartbreaking.

With awkward silences inevitably come awkward conversation starters. I’ve only been there for three months, yet a lot of the staff are still asking me the “Getting to Know You” questions of “Do you go to/have any plans for University?”, “Is this your first job?”, “How old are you again?” The questions are fine, and some put in more effort than others to ask me about myself and my interests, but in the absence of these questions, there seems like only a couple of people care about who I am.

As mentioned before, a conversation is a two-way street. I’m trapped by not being able to be the one to start it due to my anxiety, something which I can’t use as an excuse forever. Maye, they’re trapped by a similar thing too, but as people who have been there for years, I believe they should have enough confidence to ask the new starting 19-year-old how she is.

Something specific which just happened the other day made me a little upset. Maybe I’m just a baby, but I did cry. It was the first time I ever called in sick since I began work there in July. I rang the number they gave me specifically for this purpose, and one of the shift leaders picked it up. I told him I couldn’t come into work that day as I had the vaccine a day before, and I felt its effects starting to come in. He said he’d let the manager know, and that was it.

I’m not sure if it was busy in the shop that day; maybe he was a bit stressed about finding a replacement, but it’s as though a robot had picked up the phone. Everything he said to me was in a lifeless tone, and it hurt my feelings. I’m going to be working closely with all of these people. Yet, one of the shift leaders can’t muster up even a “How are you?” or an “I hope you’re feeling better soon”... or a simple “Bye.” Before he ended the call, I apologized for the inconvenience I was causing because I knew that I must have. I was met with nothing, and then I got hung up on.

Not even a bye.

After this one time, I’m anxious at the thought of ever having to call in sick again if this is the response I’ll be getting.

I want to be a part of the team; I want to be included in conversations and not feel guilty about the break and sick days I am fully entitled to.

I want to feel less alone.

Now, it’s 2:20 in the morning.

As dramatic as it is to say, I am scared to go to sleep because I know if I do, I’ll have to wake up and deal with this feeling all over again, every day. I don’t want to be scared of going to work, but the sad reality is that I am.