A little over two years ago, I was quite possibly at my lowest ebb. I had spent two years working in a place I absolutely hated. I’d moved from Monzo, where I specialised in supporting vulnerable customers. The role in this place, a telecoms company, was meant to be similar in nature – it wasn’t.

Two weeks in , I saw the place for what it was and regretted leaving somewhere that genuinely wanted to support vulnerable people to join an organisation where in-store colleagues would regularly take advantage of disabled people.

I was not a Vulnerable Customer Advisor within the exec team, I was a member of what’s best described as disabled people complaints. I was expected to undo the damage caused by aggressive sales tactics employed upon vulnerable people.

I hated it.

I was part of the problem. I tried to reframe it as helping those people, but it was clear the behaviour was institutional.

At this time, I managed to obtain a management role at Social Security Scotland (SSS). The problem was that SSS were in the process of transferring claimant data from the Department for Work and Pensions which meant my start date would be a year away.

A YEAR!

I gritted my teeth and pushed on but things got so bad that I was referred to a clinical psychologist who helped me in so many ways, but could not change the core issue, the job.

To keep my head above water, I moved to the social media team. It came with a £3,000 salary drop, a price I was willing to pay for my own mental health. And it was good for a while. Less stress, a bit of distance from their shady practices and space to breathe. I was still unhappy, but slightly less so as I waited for my exit.

That was until, due to what scholars may eloquently refer to as a momentous fuck up, my team was drafted in to support the complaints team, with no extra pay since a reasonable duties line in our contract left us stuck – and they didn’t recognise a union, so good luck I guess.

Bit by bit, I was pulled back into the area I thought I had escaped. Then I got the update from SSS that the job had been pulled. Devastated may seem like a strong word, but it’s also accurate. I was stuck here!

During my time, I got involved with the disability network, which kept me hanging on a little longer, but it still got dark. I had a friend comment on how I looked suicidal when they came to visit, that he couldn’t see light in my eyes.

I had anxiety attacks, spent entire weekends and evenings worrying about work. I used to meditate in the car before my shift just to calm myself enough to walk through the door. It. Was Hell.

Just when I had given up how I found a vacancy for a role at a disabled access charity called Euan’s Guide on the very day it closed! The job description felt like it was describing me, so I just had to apply.

I was pleased to hear a few weeks later that I had an interview. The first would be remote, and the second in person in Edinburgh. I passed the first, then went through to the office a week later.

I received an email on the drive home offering me the job. I tried to pretend it went poorly when I broke the news to Tracy but I couldn’t, I was far too happy. Not only was I going to be doing the most interesting job but I was out of that place!

I handed in my notice within 20 minutes of the email. I was polite, but it was not a courtesy they deserved.

I remember my last day being a sad affair (sad as in depressing, I was bloody ecstatic to be leaving). None of my team were in that day, just management. I was told my leaving gift was on its way. It was suggested I keep my pass and return the following week. I put my pass in a city centre bin the moment I left the building. Nothing short of kidnap would get me back in that building.

They say you should never burn your bridges but…

If there was one redeeming thing about my time spent in that awful place, it was that I got to meet some lovely people, and the other members of the disability network gifted me an engraved pen and a notebook.

It’s now two years since I left that place behind, though evidently I still visit it in my mind. Every time I pass that building, I feel my hand curl up in a fist, not because I’m angry, but because I’m desperately trying to stop my middle finger extending.

Two years later…

Hopping forward to now, like a Quantum Leap episode set in Johnstone, things are very different.

I have spent two years doing a job I absolutely love. Everyone I work with values my input and sees the value in my varied skills; I get to travel, I get to write and make a difference, which is all I ever wanted.

Over the past two years as Community Manager, I have spoken at countless events including NAIDEX, built a team of fellow disabled travellers and spoken with innumerable amazing people within our community.

I have written 403 disabled access reviews, visited 57 towns across four countries and won an award in recognition of my impact within the MD Community and my advocacy work – every single one of you is part of that story.

The all consuming anxiety I once had is gone. I still get nervous before events, or when I’m asked to speak, but I have faith that it will work out in the end because I have good people in my corner, especially Tracy, who makes all I have achieved possible.

The last two years have been the best of my professional life. I’ve challenged myself so much, and had great successes as a result. Not bad for the guy who was anxious answering phones two years ago.

Here’s to another impactful year!

––-

If you enjoyed this blog and would like to buy me a coffee, please click the cup. ☕