I'm so sorry,
I was a librarian, someone thought to be mild-mannered and protected within a safe and low-risk position; i.e. the last 'good' government job and imagined a sinecure of sorts. Two positions held, and rather bad things happened, whereas to discuss in full is to frighten people away for I'm too construed as a threat. My background effectively predisposed me to evidence all but nonexistant boundaries and to seek attachment absent caution, whereas in the main I'm percieved as delicate, judgmental, in perpetual opposition to authority, and a weak hire prospect at best. I last worked in early 2011, whereas the number of positions I've applied for now numbers 230 since mid-February 2013.
I so want to rest, to believe that I've done enough, that earnest application will be met with an equally earnest offer of employment within a circumstance that I might find tolerable. I want to lend value, I surely wish for my sense of self-respect and dignity back - although scant response blunts my capacity to tune my approach. Writing as I do, I'm sure this aspect of myself whispers 'damaged goods', 'mental health case', or even if not, then maybe 'flight risk'.
How to disguise that which I am? It seems the only path forward is never to speak, never to evidence the impact of a great many overlapping and deeply interwoven experiences have had upon me. C-PTSD is not something one alludes to, explains, speaks of, etc. I study as a certain personal epic is lent continued nuance, color and texture equating to a fine novel or a very good art house film, and yet what I regard as deeply compelling and essential to my understanding of self may never - ever be spoken of. My reactions, my perceptions and especially my traumatic recall and what I'd do to even matters out in terms of things said and done is officially cause for shame - and yet I (and we surely) must live with that dictonomy.
My written materials in terms of resume and cover letters are likely good, although others surely wonder how one could acquire and take leave of two separate library positions and not be damaged goods. Structural changes in relation to library employment opportunities aren't really grasped by anyone, whereas my possession of an M.A. likely suggests I'm overqualified while prejudice in relation to the perceived ineffectuality of librarians as people and surely as workers leaves me in a terrible bind. Furthermore, bland 'Administrative Assistant' roles seem both beneath me and out of touch at the same time for I've never formally worked in an an officeplace setting. I'm certain I interview and write as one who is a bit precious and surely the antithesis of tough.
Many blue collar circumstances that been applied to in desperation, whereas frightening as it will surely sound, I speak much as I write. I belong in a social science Ph. D. program even if I'm paid pennies and join the 'Adjunct Army' with very little security. This said, how to I protect myself until late fall 2014? I'm not absent habits of assertion, I feel 'with it' and relatively 'bright', but my profile is that of a dysfunctional monster that relates terribly (if at all) to other people.
Try, try, try I do to convey that I'm '...detail-oriented, customer-service focused and perceptive in relation to identifying needs and exceeding expectations for my thorough application', which surely raise the question as to why I'm not a librarian now. Personally, I feel I'm leveraging qualities I do not possess for all that transpired across two middling and cruel work environments. Understood in full people have to catch their breath time and again as I relate what went down, how matters were bungled or ignored, whereas appreciate that it isn't terribly difficult to isolate me as some delicate and unpleasant outlier when others seem so much better at negotiating what I'm term 'social space'.
I freeze, I presume all environments are potentially hostile, whereas my core identity is at threat in public library environments where recreational detachment is facilitated most of all. I'm not something that swims through the culture like some Che Guevarra revolutionary to employ the same towards creative ends, but rather I sense a coherent 'them' coalescing around matters/issues/perceptions/beliefs that I in particular do not share. I read sociology, psychology, matters rooted in a conception of cultural criticism, current affairs, etc. and hardly anything else because most everything else feels dumb and debased even if I tightly repress tendencies to relate that I can't strictly relate.
Other matters concerning what would otherwise be articulated across the Sex Abuse messageboard regarding my sensitivity to a certain type of teasing that doesn't meet the societal threshold of sexual harassment compounds matters, and so difficult it is to speak of that I'll try to be brief as I explain matters a bit. People (not strictly here do know) will not understand and simply regard me as a fool. Not all familial sexual abuse is strictly the work of an untethered and out of control male, whereas undesired role experimentation with the homosexual underground in junior high and high school renders heterosexual relations and hopes for the same white-hot toxic. Many of my family presumed I was gay, whereas identity issues, lingering Catholic guilt, etc. precluded age-cohort appropriate developmental and experiential milestones being reached. In sum, I'm about 16 years of age inside, heterosexually-oriented, and steeped in social science interests that aren't widely shared. Please - get me into an academic program where others asymmetrically developed (heavy academic skills/scant social skills and experiences) might be found!
It's almost as if the sluice gates of hormones opened, whereas I'm not truly able to discern between what constitutes normal flirtatous behavior and what consitutes insincere and cruel teasing. Though said for a laugh, sometimes I'll speak of such as the hazards of 'late-onset heterosexuality', although I ask that the reader appreciate that there is a complex ranges of experiences and factors that trigger within the greatest feelings of shame/longing/loneliness/despair that isn't the stuff that others absent awareness of the background will strictly sympathize with. If I hadn't experienced it, I doubt I would either!
As for relating to the neurotypical posse, I pretend - but only for so long as in a very real and undeniable sense my socioemotional needs aren't being met. I'm lost in hostile territory with dull wits who, for their numbers and concentration, constitute the majority culture. The majority routinely beats the crap out of the minority, whereas to feel a minority of one with socioemotional neglect/abuse issues to cope with/contain, I turn inwards and crumble again and again. People find it's funny and a low-risk thing to tease such a person, whereas my need for connection makes it doubly funny for I'll try to connect with people who abuse for I sense I have no choice but to try. Inside of my books I'm 'safe' and even 'effectual', whereas in the world I'm decidedly not.
I'd love some semi-sequestered role whereby I might be protected from the full-on impact of the public. I'm not sure I can secure this at present, and am scared. I can scribble out the tracings of my trauma history/legacies, but haven't overridden for Vulcan-like application amygdala hijackings consistent with tortured emotional recall of much. What will happen? Thanks...
M.
