Discrimination?

One rule you (should) learn rather quickly as a mentally ill person is to never EVER disclose your diagnosis in an interview. Don't even elude to it, if you can.

I recently broke this rule (he asked why I left DI, what plausible lie would've sufficed?), and the interviewer immediately became uncomfortable. His body position shifted, his face subtly became strained and worried, his voice became sympathetic. Ugh. His concern was that he'd heard "people with depression have a hard time with needing a lot of sleep." He continued "Is that going to be a problem for you?"

First of all, most people with unipolar depression actually sleep and eat LESS. It's not my case (and yet another reason why the GP thinks I'm bipolar), but that's more normal. Second, even after I assured him staying awake from 10pm to 7:30am would not be a problem for me, he still seemed uneasy. It was heartbreaking, honestly. I saw my chances at this job evaporate before my eyes.

It's hard because there aren't a lot of jobs I can do in the first place. This was one of few opportunities that he just eliminated based on his misunderstanding of people with one of my conditions. A bigger problem for me personally is a marked lack of motivation and energy. The only other issue I've had with work is stress-response.

He had no idea, but two days before my interview with him, I started my first day at another job. I actually enjoyed it (who wouldn't enjoy putting labels on boxes alone for 6 hours straight?). However, I was moved to a much faster-paced area of the production line and people were unhappy with my lack of experience. I wasn't doing things the way my coworkers liked (they all gave me different instructions), and they were getting frustrated. Which, in turn, made me frustrated. And disappointed in myself. I absolutely hate being the weak link. The negative wheels started turning and, despite every effort to interject rational thoughts, a few tears started seeping out. I tried as covertly as possible to wipe them away and continue unnoticed. No such luck.

Somehow, this girl with some level of authority came over and asked what was wrong. I said: "Nothing is wrong." She asked my coworkers in Spanish, they didn't know. She kind of huffed and walked off. Soon afterward, my supervisor approached with the same question. "Nothing is wrong." I lied. "Just trying to work." She asked if I wanted to go home. "Is my shift over?" I asked, looking at the clock. No. Then the answer is HELL no. "I want to finish my shift at least." I answered. She said "Okay." and she walked off too. Then, my freaking manager shows up. By this time, I'm highly embarrassed and doing my very best to stifle my thoughts and tears, and work as hard as possible so no more attention will be drawn. He asks what's wrong. Slightly frustrated, I reply "Nothing!". He asks if it's because of something from home or from work. It's from neither. The problem is from my stupid brain, but I can't explain that now. "Neither! I wish people would just stop asking!" I'm suddenly taking my gloves off and walking out. On auto-pilot. I'm devastated I'm losing this job like this! That I couldn't even finish my first 10 hour shift. Beyond frustrated with myself. Embarrassed as fu*k. What adult does this?! Needless to say, the car ride home and subsequent suicidal gesture were emotionally-charged and there was plenty of screaming and sobbing.

But yeah, I had no problem getting up at 4am to be there at 6am.