40mg
One of those things, I suppose. I don't mean to abandon this blog to meandering about being unemployed and generally bleating about stuff - not that you haven't had fair warning over the past few months that it might turn into that - but that's how it is, so that's what I write about. I wish it could be different; you probably wish it could be different. Remember when I was funny? I think I do, just about. I'm sure there'll be a time, in the not-too-distant future, when I can just get back to blogging about funny stuff, or writing the kind of thing I used to write. But it's hard to get back on the horse, for me, at the moment. I'm still writing things for the New Statesman, by the way, and some of them are not entirely disappointing; so I'd go there and have a look if I were you.
Anyway, you reach a point, amid all the endless typing of CVs and job applications, when you start to think that you might not get another job at all. It seems likely that I will. But it's hard to convince myself of that, sitting here, right at the moment. It takes, on average, two hours to apply for a job at the moment - you have to fill those forms that want to know the exact date you started school, every subject you ever took, every job you ever worked at, and so on - so multiple applications are right out. Maybe someday someone will invent a standardised application form that you can just fill in once, that will suit every job. That might make it easier.
In the meantime, it's such a long, laborious process that you end up seeing yourself as a very specialised data entry clerk, repeating the same phrases and the same words over and over again, to meet the demands of the same kinds of job descriptions and person specifications. Yes, I am flexible, you say; yes, I can prioritise my own workload, you say. GIVE EVIDENCE. So you give evidence. And then, when you feel you've ticked every box, crossed every t and dotted every i, you send it in, hours later, having written a minor masterpiece about yourself; and you don't hear anything back at all, and you begin to think, this really isn't working out, is it?
Don't write about it, though, I can hear you saying. Don't write about it. Don't write about the fact that this is a tedious process and you're not very good at getting jobs. What if a potential employer searches you online - what will they find then? Well, what they will find is this, I suppose, and I don't have a problem with that. I don't mind admitting that applying for jobs is hard, with very little reward, and that occasionally the amount of effort required, compared to the eventual rewards you might get from the position, is pretty disproportionate. I don't mind anyone knowing that. You don't advertise for a job slightly above minimum wage (for which people nonetheless need 'substantial experience') and expect it's going to make someone's dreams come true and fulfil them as a human being; at least, I don't think you do. If you do, then god bless you.
But I will write about it. If I didn't write about it, then that would be worse. If someone can't be bothered to read a CV, if it's really too hard to pick the bones out of that, if an application form is more important, then are they really going to bother to search for me online, and find this? If you have, well done. And well done for getting down this far. I wonder how much further you might go. But I don't mind. Hello. I'm a human being. You know the bits where I said I was enthusiastic and flexible and hardworking? Well that's all true. But it's also true that I really need a job. Just give me a job. Give me a fucking job. Give me a job.
Then that is to assume that jobs are something to be given and taken; to imagine a sense of entitlement, which I don't really have. I don't deserve a job more than anyone else. I just want one. I probably want a job more than a lot of people, now that I've been without one for a long time. But maybe not as much as others. I try to imagine, sometimes, the kind of people who make it to interviews ahead of me, or who get selected in interviews ahead of me. Did they go to better schools, or universities? Are they older, or younger? More attractive? More lucky? More confident? Do they come across better? Did they lie on their applications? Are they just better for the position? I don't know, but I am curious. I wonder sometimes. I suppose I should wish them luck; many of them are going to be just like me, and the fact they end up with a job with be something precious and happy for them. I suppose I should, but I find it hard.
And in the meantime, the title of the blogpost might have given you a clue as to what else is going on. Some of you who've made it this far down - and thank you, by the way - might have read a few things in the past about me being on antidepressants. (Again, don't write about it, I can hear you say - but I must. I have to. I don't care if a potential employer knows this or not. If it meant they didn't want to employ me, then I wouldn't want to work for someone like that anyway. So it saves us both time.) Well, I have had to up the dose. The weeks of not having work have felt like a heavy load. Sometimes it's felt like disappointment, and sometimes it's felt like despair. Sometimes it has just felt OK, like nothing, like a glass of water, and that's probably the most dangerous feeling of all: the time it feels all right to be like this is the time to worry. This isn't all right. This isn't good enough. This isn't what I should be doing. I should be doing something - anything - rather than this. But mainly it has felt sad and dispiriting. I am a little broken. Not lots. Please don't panic. Not lots. Just a little. Wouldn't you be? If you wouldn't, well done. And so, I have had to do something about it.
Whether it's a placebo effect or not, I am feeling better already, and more productive - hence actually writing this, rather than days of writing nothing. Probably the main spark is that, as before, it's the admission of needing help that is the main thing. If you struggle on thinking it'll go away, there's a chance it might not go away, and it might get worse. Not always, but sometimes. So I have made a decision to do something about it, obviously in conversation with my GP, and we'll see how it goes. Locked and loaded. Maybe this will be temporary; maybe it won't. It doesn't matter either way; it just matters that it is happening.
I write about all this because I can. So I do. Looking back on the past few weeks, it's been really hard to write. Time was when I wrote three or four posts a day; now you're lucky to get two or three a week. So when I have the ability to write, I write. There will be a time, not so far away, when I won't have to worry about all this, I'm sure. Things will be better. I almost certainly don't doubt that. But in the meantime, I'm afraid it's difficult for me.
And that's that.
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September 5th, 2011 - 09:55
I have every sympathy for you. Last summer when I was looking for jobs was such a joyless, soul-crushing experience that I can certainly relate to a lot of this. Even though I earn some money on freelance it’s barely enough to scrape by and I still have similar frustrations when looking for other jobs.
It’s difficult, in other words. Sometimes I wonder if it’s just too difficult.
September 5th, 2011 - 09:59
I follow you on twitter as well as reading your blog (don’t worry, I’m not a stalker), and have always admired your honesty.
I do recruitment at work as part of my job (accountancy), and whilst the field is different, I’m sure the sheer volume of stuff we get isn’t. You find yourself shortlisting on entirely arbitrary things as everyone has identical qualifications, a 2:1 from an average uni, some A levels and A/A*’s at GCSE. Is it wrong to take the first word of each sentence in a covering letter and interview those who’s words make the best sentence? I’ve never done it but have wistfully thought it might be as good a way as any sometimes.
I’m not cut out for recruiting obviously
September 5th, 2011 - 10:55
Keep going, Steve, and good luck with the continuing drudgery of job applications; sorry you are having a hard time at the moment.
September 5th, 2011 - 11:32
Excellent description of the job application process in all it’s numbing soul crushing but mundane glory! Crushing to fill out so many applications to ridiculously exacting requirements with felt virtuosity only to be ignored. I’d completely forgotten which GCSEs I’d done and it’s bad for the (metaphorical) soul.
Also familiar is the later part- I salute your honesty – on how strangely normal it can end up feeling and how there is still a taboo on feeling ‘a little broken’. IMHE, it’s not a simple hole to climb out of and drugs can’t do it alone – but coupled with a strong desire for change they can be a real boon. Wish you a speedy and easy-as possible return to the funny and productive!
September 5th, 2011 - 11:44
This is my first comment on your blog but I’ve been reading for years.
I’m in a similar position to you. In fact I’ve just been sending applications out this morning – cold ones, mind, as my area doesn’t really advertise for jobs. I also have a bit of freelance on the side but it’s not enough really. It’s a fucking crushing place to be.
A lot of us are in the same boat and I guess I really wrote to say that there are people who read your stuff and appreciate that you’re still writing, even if they don’t comment. Keep going.
September 5th, 2011 - 14:36
Snap. I too have had a totally dispiriting summer of unsuccessful job applications – and coincidentally have just come back from a first-time ‘confession’ to my GP that I suspect I’m depressed. I can’t recall whether Ivor Southwood’s Non-Stop Inertia has been mentioned on your blog before, but you hit a lot of the same targets, especially on the apparent absurdity of recruitment processes. I’ve often wondered how exactly recruiters can differentiate between dozens of identical applications and personal statements written by people who, through mind-numbing repetition, have worked out how to tell them what they want to hear.
Long time reader, first time commenter – I really appreciate this blog, both for its humour and its humanity. It’s one of the things which has most encouraged me to seek help for my own problems. Good luck with the job hunt. Thanks, and please keep writing.
September 6th, 2011 - 11:08
40mg is actually the lowest effective dose in most people – not sure why it is that doctor’s start on the 20mg – hoping for the placebo effect to take care of things as a first resort, maybe.
Anyway, there’s nothing wrong with being on SSRIs – even if it’s for the rest of your whole life. Nothing wrong or shameful or weak at all. And I don’t think I’ve ever met a person who hasn’t had their soul crushed by the job searching process – it’s just one of the shittiest things out there. But people react to soul crushing pressures differently.
You’re fine, you’re doing fine.
September 7th, 2011 - 10:32
I’m sorry to hear you’re having such a hard time and I fully sympathise. I was out of work last year, and I found the whole experience really sould destroying and, like you, had to go back on anti-depressants for a while.
I’m actually starting the whole process again, as the job I managed to get during that period has turned out to be not what I thought it would be. There’s barely anything out there, though. I recently got to interview stage and, although I came second and was offered a part-time role instead of the one I originally applied for (which I had to turn down as I simply can’t afford to work part-time), it was still so frustrating.
All I can say is hang in there and you will get something eventually. I know it doesn’t seem that way and I know what you mean about feeling like you’ll never get a job again (I’m currently having nightmares about being stuck in my current position for eternity!), but it will pass, trust me.
On a practical note, I find having a set of standardised paragraphs to hand for the personal statements that most job applications ask you for these days is really useful. It saves a lot of time and stops you forgetting stuff. You just cut and paste them, edit and embellish them to make sense and add anything else you think might be relevant, and Bob’s your monkey!
September 7th, 2011 - 14:44
I was laid off in 2008 when the recession hit and the company handled it very badly. That time I took it quite well and was very positive about finding something reasonably quickly, which I did.
Then I got fired from the new job too, on Valentine’s Day this year. This time I struggled, I was feeling incredibly shitty about it and didn’t know what to do with myself. Somehow though I managed again to find another job reasonably quickly (I’d been looking anyway and landed one of the jobs I applied for before I was fired, it had just taken them a long time to get back to me), but if I hadn’t gotten so lucky then I really don’t know what would have happened.
Anyway, my one piece of job application advice is this; apply by post, unless you’re specifically told not to, and make your application look attractive and distinctive.
Both times I was job hunting I got no replies at all to any of my online applications, but got interviews to every single one that I sent a printed application to.
My theory is that it’s both technically and emotionally very easy for the recruiter to delete half the applications that land in their email inbox with one click of a button, but a physical pack on their desk is more personal, more interesting and has more substance, so is more ‘difficult’ to discard.
Plus, you have more control over the format. While online applications all look boring and identical a well structured, a well written letter and CV on nice paper in a thick envelope with a gleaming special edition stamp on the front has far more emotional impact and is a lot less likely to end up in the bin.
It also helps if you know the name of the person who’s dealing with the applications, so you can address it to them personally. You could even phone the company and directly ask the receptionist for the name of the best person to address it to. Again, it becomes more intimate that way, and it looks like you made a special effort.
I think the way your CV looks is very important as well, not just the way it’s written. Use a nice easy to read font (I’m told Georgia is best for something printed and Verdana for something that’s going to appear on a screen), and insert subtle but attractive alterations to the format to make it easier and more desirable to read. For example I have my name, address and contact details in a text box at the top left, so the reader can find it easily. This is subtly shaded in pale blue with a very thin dark blue border, nothing too fancy. I also make sure headers (‘employment history’, ‘education’ etc) are in solid black but the details underneath are a marginally lighter shade of grey, so the CV can be ‘navigated’ more easily. The result is that when you see my CV next to a dozen others mine stands out a mile, even though the actual content isn’t necessarily any more interesting.
Apologies if you already know all this, or if it’s just not possible to do things this way, or if you simply disagree. It worked for me though.
Anyway, good luck sir, your writing is excellent and you deserve every success!
September 7th, 2011 - 23:20
Before I graduated this summer, I kept hearing all the horrible stories of such and such graduate having an approx 2 year wait before finding work. Before the summer, and with my parchment in my sweaty paw, I was determined not to fall into that category.
Now, three months into a job hunt where for every ten jobs I apply to I get maybe one response – any response really – it is starting to get to me. Of course, similar to what you have said, I’m not looking for pity, just an effing job! What doesn’t help of course is the not knowing. How hard can an email to say ‘ta, but no ta’ be?
Anyhoo, I just wanted to also say that this blog is a welcome read at the end of a difficult week, and I hope that your circumstances change soon. To those who have commented on this piece as well, your advice is noted and also appreciated (i.e. from those with CV tips as well). Many thanks and all the best.
September 8th, 2011 - 21:38
I was unhappy for most of my 3 years as an undergraduate – choosing the wrong course, not doing enough extra-curricular stuff, not having any friends, etc. I was too ashamed to admit any of this or to thoughts of dropping out and re-thinking my options. It was over 5 years before I felt able to admit any of this.
Now I can be quite candid on my blog, and my friends respect and admire that. It’s very brave to post about your mental state. Too often we are told to sweep our ‘issues’ under the rug, and that is exactly why depression is so taboo.
I too am struggling to find work, but am open about the hard slog, the inadequacy of the jobseekers system, and how disheartening the whole process is. Especially the ‘we can’t give you feedback as to why you’re not shortlisted, which will be of no help to you in the future’ response.
Like yourself and others who have commented, hope seems to be all we have. Good luck to us all!
September 11th, 2011 - 08:52
as a recent graduate i know how awful job hunting can be, so far the only interview ive had has been at mcdonalds, an interview that seemed awful but somehow ive got the job, im hoping i find a job i actually want soon, because working at mcdonalds isnt something i want to do for too long
September 11th, 2011 - 18:46
Long time reader of your blog, always appreciated your honesty. I’m not unemployed but I have been through a hellish two year period (just starting a family then going from a fairly good employer to one terrible employer, then unemployment, awful minimum wage crap then rubbish employer and finally decent job). It has only come good in the last month or two with a new job.
I was struck by your comment about your feeling less ‘funny’. I am still relatively new in my current job, last Friday some colleagues next to me were having some banter. Noticing perhaps that I wasn’t really joining it they asked if I didn’t have this at my last employment. It occurred to me that I hadn’t felt comfortable enough in a job to have idle banter in so long it might appear I have no sense of humour. Now when I think of myself two years ago, I definetely had a sense of humour and willingly joined in the banter. The rubbishness of the last two years though have really put me out of practice.
I’m sure I will again in future but I just have to let myself be patient and not beat myself up over it.
September 12th, 2011 - 10:41
I totally sympathise. I was applying for jobs in the charity sector last year and into this year, and all of them required completion of an online application form, with ridiculous levels of detail required – who cares what GCSEs I did 18 years ago? It was soul destroying to have spent an entire evening addressing every single point of the job description and person specification and to then not even get a reply. It felt like a total waste of time and I was wondering if it was in fact futile.
I did eventually get something, and considered myself incredibly lucky, even though it isn’t exactly what I’ve been dreaming of.
But I’ve also been on the other side, assessing applications for interview. It’s not at all uncommon to reject on the basis of a single typo. If the CV is competing with a number of other CVs that don’t have typos, it’s harsh, but with limited time to interview applicants, it seems fair enough. The application is the only evidence you have to go on and if it hasn’t been proofread to death then it shows that the candidate who completed it didn’t care as much as the ones who did send in typo-free applications.
So, if you have time, it’s a really good idea to not only proofread yourself, but have someone else check it as well. If you’ve been working on it for hours you just can’t see mistakes anymore. It’s just human nature – I know this happens to me, and yet I’ve spotted an advert the day before the deadline, rushed to complete it into the early hours and ended up hitting send and then noticing an error thirty seconds later. It’s infuriating.
Also, writing the same stuff about yourself over and over is incredibly tedious. You may not realise that you actually have started writing about yourself in a really boring way. A friend can suggest ways to jazz it up a bit, or point out something good about you that you never thought to mention. Especially if, like you say, you’re feeling really down about the whole thing.
Hope I’m not teaching my grandmother to suck eggs with all this. I just feel for you in that situation. I found it tough enough when I was applying while in a job (albeit one I hated and was at risk of redundancy in).
I wish you good luck in your search. And judging by the response to your OP, I think it was a really good idea for you to write about this since so many people are obviously in the same boat.
Take care!
September 12th, 2011 - 21:45
Pah! I went up to 60mg when I was fired last summer (although I’d been on 40mg for months to cope with the psychological battering from my then employers). I win the ‘pram race.
I hope your luck changes soon. I found something in the end (albeit contract work), but I don’t think I’d have managed much longer. My defences were pretty depleted.
My problem in finding something permanent is that my health was bound up with losing the job; and as I might potentially need records from them, the truth would come out… and mentioning mental health problems in job interviews (in accountancy!) is as pleasant an experience as you’d expect. Nice people, good chemistry, pitch perfect interview patter, dropping in all of the finance world’s state-of-the-art abuses of language, then their facial muscles tighten just oh-so-perceptibly, you move on… and not so much as a rejection email.
‘Cos they don’t need to tell you.
Anyway, best of luck. I won’t do the whole, ‘Oh, I’m sure you’ll find something’, because I’m not, and that certainly would’ve annoyed me.
In the meantime… the wonders of medical science!
September 16th, 2011 - 02:13
Steve, I dedicate this blog post to you: http://wp.me/pCx1f-bV (“The blog that made me ‘come out’ as a closet depressive”).
I hope you’re feeling a bit better in yourself. And thank you again. You know what I mean.
October 5th, 2011 - 11:27
First time reader of your blog and hooked after reading this. I too am going through a long period of unemployment and have battled with depression for 10 years. With nothing to get up for in the mornings, no purpose, no direction, total lack of self-worth, the depression has been the worst I’ve ever felt.
So glad I came across this blog.
October 7th, 2011 - 11:30
I can relate to the majority of what you say. As a recent(ish) graduate I really want to get on and do something media-related (I’m not picky!) but I realise I’m up against other graduates and, crucially in most cases, experienced journalists like yourself.
Chin up chuck, we’re rooting for you!