Right, time to roll up my sleeves

I am so disappointed that I can't even free myself from my current constrains, with ease...resign ✓ accepted ✓ walk away with head held high ✓ an easy process you would think...and one that is poignantly fundamental in my progress towards a trouble free and happy future.  Companies should always lead by example don't you think, and do the right thing.

It all feels very scary and overwhelming and I almost feel like I am a child again, venturing forth into the world of adulthood, after leaving school.  This time, I have knowledge and lessons learned under my belt, and a wider view of the world.  And I know there is a job out there somewhere, with my name on it!

I wish I had been guided and supported in my career choices early on, I didn't know you could get a job doing something you love, I thought from what I saw at home,  work was a life sentence to be able to pay the bills and perhaps a day trip or two, to the south coast in the summer.

At school, when we chose our options, and sat in on career guidance, I only really remember being told, quite vividly actually, about the joys of becoming a mastic asphalt spreader, at the age of 14, who knew what that even was...I know now, obviously, still don't fancy it much. I suppose the good thing about it was, women were encouraged into a mans' world, even in 1983...I went to an all girls secondary school!  

When the time came to put on my big girls' knickers, I found a full time job in Chiswick, working for a reputable estate agent...my first taste of the "real world" after leaving the joys of my school years behind me.  All I had known was my torrid and abusive world behind the closed doors of home, and the respite from that, by holding down a Saturday job for two years, in a local chemist.

I remember those experiences like it were yesterday, and sadly, the bad times always accompanied it. I wish I had the gumption then to contact Childline, but I was not far off 18 when Esther swang into action and I was too old.  I have never really properly reached out, until now...I guess the moral of the story here is, never be afraid to speak up when something isn't right. I wish I could've of, but the fear of my mother's anger and quick temper terrified me...she loved a bit of mental abuse and a beating now and then.
The last time she laid a hand to me, was whilst I worked in W4 at Tyser Greenwood and Co, imagine trying to make your way in your first proper job, when your face looks like it's been in a fight with the cupboard door and a feral cat!  This was my prize for feeding the dogs an hour late as I had been held up...for this I was selfish, belligerent, waste of space...so many adjectives to choose from.

From then on, it was just easier to make your self scarce. . .by this I mean, stay out for as long as you could to avoid confrontation. To be honest, I had plenty of practice at taking refuge in my shared bedroom as a child, but now, I had money on my hip so could do stuff to keep me occupied after work. But it wasn't always that easy..












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