Given all that has gone on, I decided a couple of weeks ago that I needed to fill in some of The Powers That Be at work about my condition. (I’m only now bringing this up because, well, hey, Christmas.) I wasn’t eager to do so, but they deserve an explanation, my piss-poor performance of late needs some excuse, and as my mother points out, if I had cancer or MS or something, I’d be letting them know about that, and how is this any different?
I started with Department Head. First, if my work schedule needs any serious adjustments (read: needs to take any serious hits) because of this, he’s the one who’ll have to sign off on it. Second, I figured he’d be at least somewhat more sympathetic than Direct Supervisor. (There are other layers of management in between those two, but they don’t have any real, immediate Need to Know.)
He wasn’t especially sympathetic, which was both fine and expected: I’ve known the guy for 20 years, and he tends to reserve his sympathy for Real Emergencies. (When I missed most of a month of work because of my father’s final illness, death, funeral services and logistical aftermath, the only thing he said was, “I’m so sorry. Take all the time you need,” which were precisely the nine words I needed and wanted to hear.) He actually was mildly curious about bipolar disorder, never having known anyone who, to his knowledge, had it. (I suggested he go here or here to learn more.) Unfortunately, I didn’t have all the information I needed to answer some of his questions, but maybe he’ll visit the Web sites. But anyway, although he didn’t make me any promises (and I didn’t ask him to), I left feeling at least somewhat supported.
Direct Supervisor, on the other hand, displayed his patented lack of ability and willingness to listen. The minute I mentioned bipolar disorder, he immediately decided that he knew exactly what-all that explained in my professional performance over the past couple of years, even though 1) he has been my direct supervisor for only a few months and 2) he implied that the fact that one of his relatives had had “some issues” meant that he knew all he needed to know about bipolar disorder. He wasn’t actively hostile, but I left feeling that he might have some unpleasant surprises coming that I’d have to take over his head to get dealt with.
All in all, it was not the most humiliating professional experience I’ve ever had, but it was definitely in the Top 5. I felt worthless the rest of the day, and even now I feel icky when I think back on it.
[...] which I’ll write more later). The first person I told was Mrs. Prufrock, but after her, I started with the people who had to know. That experience made me a bit gunshy about telling anyone else, as you can [...]