I have been let go of two jobs before the trial period but I wasn't ready to return to work so my attitude shone through and it was back to the drawing board.
I was then let go of a third because I couldn't crack one of the jobs. I got offered a different type of job at same company. The manageress there said I was like her right hand women and I was adept at this machine. But they criticised my life choices: Why hadn't I gone to university? I should be living the life to full.
I eventually went back to college. I decided to bite the bullet and get something more fulfilling. I unconsciously picked a job that I knew I was guaranteed to be accepted to and that provided svq 's so I could work and train at same time.
If I hadn't had such rotten luck in the job department I would have cut and run knowing that my personality was not suited to this kind of work.
I had been forced to take the first job that became available since I got unwell at 18. I wasn't given the luxury of choice. That's what so many working class people are up against. They simply cannot wait around for the more suitable job when there's bills to pay and mouths to feed. I had to support myself.
Nobody gets fired from DODO

In all fair Ness I have never been fired. But I was close and was let go before trial period as my face didn't fit. I stuck at Adam for four years. I was dying to leave as I got compared to other girls that had worked there and I felt inferior. And one made a nasty joke saying was I sure my fiance wasn't just using me for one thing. Yet the woman who knew me better and worked next to me said I was a good quine while I Sang along to radio. Just because I didn't tell stories about girls getting diarrhoea after trying butt sex or mistaking a prayer matt for a scarf which to me is not that entertaining. I don't think leaving a drunk friend at a strangers house after partying and trusting them just because they go to university. She was a clown and I didn't like her and she did not get me so stuff her. I think my mum disliked her as well.
I think it would have been hard to find someone who would have been as good on machine as I was.
Why would she say that? Did she have a bad hangover? I would never say is your boyfriend just using you for sex implying my personality was not up to par?
Different folks different strokes. It was a crappie job, but I couldn't be bothered acting dumb for popularity points. I had potential for a much better job so I didn't try and hide I was miserable or hacked off at times.

Obviously my bi-polar was behind me having such terrible luck with jobs. Fred must have realised how much I had improved and said I would get a break at some point. He maybe just said this because it is what
I wanted to hear.
The first medication they put me on worked to some extent so for three years I persevered.
When i wad let go from jimmy, I did show up at Fred s work teary eyed. I spoke to the Sunday guy and one lady who sung all the time was nice. The rest I couldn't connect with.
But the medication didn't target my low moods enough and I went back to work FAR too soon. I should have taken a year out. It doesn't matter now.
An old classmate bombarding me with questions about where wad in working, what was I doing, who do I work for. Didn't really help. But she was just interested, she didn't know I had been ill. No worries

Thanks didn't know me from Adam.
The stabity of this job did me the world of good. I proved to myself not just others that I was responsible and could commit to things.
I landed a proper job after this. However it didnt take long before my personal life disintegrated before my eyes but it didn't phase me because I was used to bad #$it happening to me it just felt normal.
I took less of my medication I was supposed to. I was in denial that anything was "wrong" with me. So many people with similar do the same.
I made mistakes at work that may not have happened if my home life was ok and I had not cut my meds to get more energy.
My nerves were suffering because I didn't feel safe and relaxed around Fred.
My family were not supportive of me since my first breakdown. My grandfather was disappointed with me. He must have known deep down I was unhappy too. And it all weighed on my mind.
And I suffered my second episode. I realise I was clinically depressed and everything was slowing down and my body was in protest. My digestive system was shot to bits. I lost weight and touch with reality.
I left my "proper" job, before the boss referred me to the occupational therapist. I would more likely than not have lost my job. I am certain they would have said that I couldn't carry on.