Precise
My last job was working for a bookkeeper in 2008. In July of that year I had a mental breakdown and spent 6 weeks on the psych ward. I never went back.
I loved my job. People thought it was boring but it was my passion. The typical response? “I’ve never heard anyone say they were passionate about bookkeeping!” It’s strange, I know, but I love everything about it
By nature, I am meticulous, organized, and detail-oriented. Bookkeeping was a perfect fit. If my work didn’t balance I wasn’t happy until I found the error.
Me: I’m not balanced
Boss: How much are you out?
Me: Two cents
Boss: You’re balanced, don’t worry about it
Me: I have to find it
Boss: No you don’t. I’m not paying you to find two cents
It sounds anal, but I really like everything to balance. I need it to balance. The rush I feel when everything balances is amazing.
It’s ironic to me, that in my quest to be precise in my work, my battle with depression and anxiety left my mind scattered. It was a bitter disappointment that I would never work again.
After a couple of months my ex-husband wondered when I was going back to work. It was an expectation and a demand.
“I don’t know. I don’t know when, or even if I can go back,” was my response.
I was filled with guilt and shame. Did my ex-husband think I was being lazy? Didn’t he know how much I wanted to work? He became frustrated. As his impatience grew, he struggled to understand what I was going through. Our relationship eroded and we seperated in 2009.
Since the separation I often wonder if I can work again. Maybe, one day. When that day comes I hope I can do something I love. Something that requires the skills of an exacting, particular mind.
I maintain our finances at home just fine….. One day, at a previous job, our bookkeeper was out. The office manager asked me to balance out the ledger for the day. I told her my math was not great. She insisted I would be fine. I balanced….’ballpark.’ She looked aghast. I never bookkept again. Thankfully!
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I often find myself in the grip of that “needs to be perfect” or perfectly figured out, mood. Can you call it a mood? Definitely when I write, but mine acts up reviewing situations and conversations, too. My mind wants to run through the scene again and again, trying to rephrase and smooth out the bumps. “Over-analyze,” a friend called it.
I know that I’m obsessive by nature, and can thankfully catch myself — after about the tenth time round — and I say, “You’re obsessing again!” When I recognize what I’m doing it seems I can get a better grip on it.
Someone else told me of their renter; they noticed he hung his clothes in his closet and it looked like he’d used a ruler to measure so every hanger was precisely two inches from the next one. He had OCD.
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Christine, I was recently diagnosed with OCD. I was surprised by the diagnosis because I’m not what I think is typical. But since then I’ve been paying attention and I am OCD.
I beat myself for not being perfect and like you I over-analyze all the time. I find writing both therapeutic and terrifying at the same time.
Thank you for sharing. I appreciate your insight!
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Great post Jane! Sounds like bookkeeping is a perfect fit for you and I hope one day you feel well enough to go back to work. Love your posts, keep them coming!
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Thank you, Linda. I feel the same way about your posts. Your writing is interesting and flows nicely.
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