On rejection, job hunting and feeling like you’ll never get there.
I made my Twitter account ‘sad penguin time’ for the times you just feel…a bit sad. And honestly, it feels a bit like ‘sad penguin year’ right now.
I’ve reached the point of the job-ending job-hunt cycle of just feeling like all hope is lost and I’m just…useless. A perfect storm of creative/writing side of life rejections, fighting for a job and ultimately failing before the current one ends, has left me feeling like everything is pointless and I’ll be stuck in this cycle forever. This year has been one constant string of rejection and things going badly. This time around, too, despite having been in this position more times than I can count, the pressure and stress of my job ending feels a lot.
Then there’s been the rejection on the creative front. None of which are individually terrible, really- I’m vocally really resistant on the rejection front, it’s part of the game, after all. But that doesn’t mean I’m not immune to it. A few months back, the same work got rejected within the same hour, and in one case, brutally so. I sat in my car and sobbed over that. In themselves, the rejections don’t matter in that there’s a wearing ‘should I give up’ moment on the same piece of work. That creative project has been my liferaft for several years now, the thing I go to when I’m struggling in life or wondering about my purpose. It’s the thing that gives me hope I am good at creative things…but I find myself at a place of thinking, what if I’m not? What if it’s all a waste of time?
Similarly, two book proposals got rejected at once in a week when everything else was going wrong. The thing I actually feel like I’m good at got shut down with little ceremony just when everything else felt like it was unravelling. Rationally, I knew one wasn’t quite right, but was shooting a shot of the other. In retrospect, I can see the value in waiting for it, as the man in the musical once said. But in the moment, it felt like the end of the world because everything seemed crappy.
I think it feels extra crappy this time because truly I feel like I’m staring into a big unknown asking ‘what now?’ every other time until now, I was waiting for writing projects to come through, holding onto a thread of hope at a theatre or art job.
Now, a decade on from my PhD, a decade of trying I finally drew a line under both things. I said ‘enough now enough.’ but I didn’t have an answer for what instead. At a point in life where I should be reaping the rewards of hard work to this point, I’m scrambling around for scraps once again.
Because that’s what my career feels like. No matter how hard I work, I’ve been begging for scraps. Because that’s the arts, that’s academia. When I finally stood up and said, ‘no more, I know my worth.’ was the moment I realised it was over (as detailed in this post). Now, let’s not confuse ‘I know my worth’ with ‘I don’t work hard.’ because I will work harder than anyone, as someone who hustled this hard to get this far, with god-knows-what stacked against her. I will work. If I believe in something, if I have passion for it I will work for it- you only have to look at all the things I’ve built for myself with no help, from nothing, to know that. But what I won’t do anymore is accept less than what I’m worth.
The trouble is…that leaves me with, currently, nowhere to go. Cutting the ties of what’s gone before leaves me back with ‘what now?’ and very quickly, ‘I’ve failed’ The line between saying no, asking for more, and feeling like you don’t deserve more is a thin one. Invisible some days. A lot of days, the bad stuff is easier to believe, and I don’t think I’m worth anything because a decade of being told as much…makes it believable.
A decade of being knocked down makes it harder to get up. Makes it harder to believe you can do it, you are worth it. And when nobody else believes in you…it’s hard to believe in yourself.
People keep telling me I look impressive from the outside. And on the good days, I can see it, I’m proud of it. My little array of books and all I’ve done with them. Knowing I built all that myself with no help- no university job behind me, no connections, everything I’ve got there, I’ve worked for and made myself. All my teaching outside academia, I’ve built that reputation; I’ve made it so I get asked to do things. Every article I’ve written, I’ve pitched, proven myself not just in one area but lots- heck I even wrote a hockey program article last year. I went from hustling for theatre articles a decade ago to writing about something that wouldn’t have even entered my mind back then. And I’m not done yet on that front. I’m working hard, building that up…but it never feels quite enough. There’s always some fancy academic or some shiny influencer who pips you to the jobs. Who does better with you gets more attention (I’m not one for attention in life, but in this work, it helps).
I know I’m doing okay with my ‘other work’. The books and associated bits and pieces are plodding on ok. No, I’m not winning any big shiny awards for them, but to be honest, my books aren’t big shiny awards-type things. And I’m doing ok at getting asked to do other stuff because of that. I know all that takes time, and I feel like finally, some eight or so years after I really started putting attention into that, I’m getting there. Play the long game- do it right and make it last. I don’t need my second book to be a ‘big five’ publisher if I can build up a sustainable, steady career that will let me do some of this for a long time. And I’m getting there, I think. But as much as I’m playing the long game and telling myself sustainability and reputation over shiny things, it’s hard not to see the shiny things and think, ‘Why not me?’ do I not sometimes get a shot at the shiny?
Look, it’s okay. I know that’s classic writer imposter syndrome and insecurity talking. Overall, I’m okay with taking the slow path there. The trouble is, either way, that doesn’t pay the bills, and honestly, that’s my biggest issue right now: that feeling of, when will it ever feel stable, when will I get to stop worrying about whether there’ll be a paycheck in six months?
As much as that too, I feel as ever left behind in life. Even the good things I do are just not quite good enough. My books aren’t quite successful enough. I’m not quite capitalising on that enough. I’m not hustling hard enough. I’m not building a career fast enough or well enough. Everyone else is doing so much better. Part of it is rational, and part of it is not, and most days, it’s impossible to tell the difference.
It’s a lonely place to be, too. I’m not old-fashioned enough to say, ‘I put my career first and forgot to find a person,’ but in a way, it’s true…I spent a decade working on a PhD, trying to build a career and had very little life. I’ve remedied that in the past few years, the past two particularly. But it’s a lonely place at this point in life when people are off and coupled up with families, and you’re the weird single one with a messy career that means you earn half of what they do…you’re on the outside looking into what you could have won as a life. I wouldn’t trade it most of the time, I’m where I’m meant to be in many ways…but not trading it doesn’t mean it’s not hard sometimes when you’re trying into your computer for the 3rd time that week and wondering what any of it is for. And sometimes all the rejection is just lonely, working on what is a very solitary side job is lonely…and sometimes when it’s all going to shit, you just wnat a hug and a shoulder to cry on.
And that’s when all the feelings of being useless, of it all being pointless, creep in. Because it’s ‘just a job’, but it’s not. When you feel like you have so much to give, and you’re stuck…when you put so much in and get knocked down again, it’s not just a job. When you sacrificed so much to get so far, and the door is slammed again…it’s not just a job.
I find myself asking, when does it work out for someone like me? What did I do so wrong?
There’s no answer, but I’ll keep going, of course. And I will. I’ll pick myself up and go and work whatever job I have to once again because what else can you do except keep getting by?
And I will, of course. Right now, I mostly feel like hiding under my desk and, yes, crying a bit more. But I can’t do that because books don’t write themselves, classes don’t teach themselves, and the hope of finding something to sort some of this out hasn’t quite died.
A wise man, I think I wrote something about once, says, ‘there is an ethical obligation to hope.’ so I guess somewhere inside, I have to find that little bit of hope to keep going.
That said, if the tragic image of me crying under a desk hasn’t put you off, I could use some work, either short—or longer-term. My website has more details.
I teach all manner of things, including LGBTQ+ history, Theatre and TV/Film lectures.
Or do you need a speaker/facilitator for Diversity and Inclusivity at your organisation?
Or perhaps a creative writing session?
See all my workshops here.
Alternatively, in more traditional jobs, you need:
Project Manager
Social Media and Marketing management
Research
Development Editing
Transcription and data entry
Administration or virtual assistant support
Get in touch here or via EmilyMGarside@gmail.com
Sad Penguin says thanks for reading…
Emily Garside 