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I have not done very well at all in the real world, so far; my life is embarrassingly bereft of any achievements. As I did not graduate high school (Year 12), I have no qualifications and have not had a career to speak of. I thus have no title or profession, and this is another reason I am reluctant to interact with people – I literally can’t describe myself as anything! (Other than as “a human.”) I look back upon my life up to this point with regret at the wasted opportunities. I have also had a feeling in whatever I do that I am not competent at anything, and am an outsider – what is called Impostor syndrome.

I (and my sister) attended the same school for all our school years (1976-1988 for me). I began to deteriorate in Year 11, and did not complete the final year (Year 12, 1988) as I had a nervous breakdown, due to being unable to cope with study, and the unpleasantness of certain classmates who were ostracizing and gossiping about me. (I think these days my issues would be classified as “school refusal.”) I was the only one in my year group not to graduate.

I only had average grades and was not good at sports. With hindsight, I wish now that I had made more of an effort to be involved in activities, but I was not interested then, so I have no medals, awards or anything. The only subject I excelled at – and got some admiration for – was Art (painting and drawing). I was also good at English.

I believe I would have been a good student had I been motivated! I recall having some type of aptitude/IQ test in Year 6 and surpassing all my classmates, but nothing came of this.

I have not been to any school reunions (held every 5 years for each year group) as I am too ashamed of what I have become.

An aftereffect of my unhappy departure are recurring dreams in which I return to school but never finish what I am there for, skipping classes and eventually quitting or giving up – literally running away in the dreams. These dreams are simultaneously set both in the present and past, with the people I was at school with appearing in them as they were then; vague and shadowy dream-characters. This “unfinished business” still haunts me and I don’t know if I will ever resolve it.

I did not go to university. I have actually done worse than my parents in terms of employment (they both had a career); I almost seem to have self-sabotaged myself.

Dad helped me get an apprenticeship at AeroSpace Technologies of Australia (ASTA – now defunct) but I only lasted two months in 1989 due to my mental problems. I completed a one-year secretarial studies course at a TAFE college in 1990, though most of what I learnt there – before computers and the Internet became mainstream – is outdated now (except for typing)!

From 1989 to 2001 I worked in a retail position in a supermarket. This was initially intended as a temporary job, but inertia and mental health issues stalled any more attempts at finding more fulfiling work. I was extremely stressed at times there due to having to interact with customers, which I was never at ease doing.

After leaving the retail job, I effectively became a recluse (and consequently have a huge gap in my employment history). I have no idea what I will do and have given up as I can’t see a future for myself; inertia is too strong. I have no identity as I can’t describe myself as anything. My life so far has been meaningless. I have no skills or do anything useful. I am a insignificant individual amongst billions of others. If I were to die now I would have nothing to show for it.

I want to have more than an ordinary life – for my own life to have meant something, to be remembered – but I don’t know how to attain this. I don’t know where to start. Being passive by nature, I am still hoping “something” will happen to change my life for the better. But time passes inexorably and I get older.

Realistically, I would probably be suited to a job where I could sit at a computer and not have too much personal and public interaction. A stable government/public-service-job with regular hours might suit me; unfortunately in the current climate of recession, government cutbacks and increasing unemployment, this seems an impossibility!

To be honest, all I want to do now is retreat from the world and live in my own little space, looking inward. I have no interest in further studies now; I simply want to be left alone to live out my life quietly. I can’t change things – in my life, and certainly not in the outer world – and I no longer have any energy or ambition to do anything. I am tired. All I need is food, shelter, and access to the Internet and health care. I would be mostly content as a recluse if I had physical and financial security.

1974

St. James Kindergarten, located behind the Lutheran Church on South Road, Moorabbin

My only clear memory from this period is of backing up against a brick wall in the kinder’s playground as several boys surrounded me rather menacingly; I was saved when a teacher intervened. According to Mum, the kinder proved unsuitable for me so in the next year I transferred to Finchley.

1975

Finchley Kindergarten, in the Scout Hall on Arthur Street, Bentleigh

Vague memories of my time here include an occasion where we picnicked in nearby Leckie Street Park one morning; it had a small playground and I climbed onto a replica iron steam roller. The teacher gave us all sweets (pink and yellow fruit sticks); I reached for 2 in the packet instead of one and Mrs Wulfe told me not to be greedy! I recall a large rocking horse that resided in the Scout Hall and I have memories of playing with the other children outside. A couple of future Kilvington classmates, Joanna Stanway and Andrea Crabtree, also attended Finchley. (Unlike me they would successfully complete Year 12.) Both the above kinders have long since closed.

1976-May 1988

Kilvington Baptist Girls’ Grammar School, Ormond

Year 11 subjects passed in 1987:

I completed the years from Prep to Year 11 but left after Term 1 in Year 12 due to a nervous breakdown. I thus did not undertake the midyear exams and consequently failed to attain my VCE at year’s end.

I was only an average student though I had potential; in Year 6 my class was given some sort of IQ test and I came out ahead of everyone else. But I was an underachiever who preferred daydreaming to studying. I had no clear future goals and thus lacked the motivation to study hard and do brilliantly. I was also afflicted by depression from around 1986 onwards which also affected my motivation. Never popular with my classmates, I was always something of an outsider, regarded as odd by others (and sometimes teased and bullied). Only my artistic talent gained me any admiration. Maths and science were my weakest subjects unfortunately, as these lead onto interesting careers, but I was not mathematically-inclined.

My sister Michele and I both belonged to Muriel Fysh House, whose color was green. I participated little in school activities; I hated sport as I wasn’t athletically-inclined and was often the last one picked to go on teams. I preferred to be involved in my own internal world, a trait that would continue into adulthood. Despite my troubles there, school now seems a tranquil idyll in comparison to the misery I would experience in the adult working world.

1987

11-22 May

Morphet Press Pty Ltd, Clayton

Two weeks’ work experience as part of the Kilvington Year 11 curriculum. Mrs Phillips-Rees, the teacher in charge of the work experience program, found me a place with this company due to my artistic talent. I was in the company’s art department working in their graphic design section. My duties included assisting in the design, layout and printing of company logos and developing prints in the photographic darkroom. I had to catch the North Rd. bus from the end of Tucker Rd. to and from Morphet Press every day. My workplace was located in a rather dingy factory area off North and Wellington Rds. Another former Kilvington student was working there too. I tended to keep to myself as was my custom; I ate lunch alone. This was my first experience of a real job. I performed reasonably well despite my initial nervousness. I had no interest in the occupation as a future career choice, though.

1989

23 January-23 March

ASTA (AeroSpace Technologies of Australia) Aircraft Services Pty Ltd, Avalon Airfield, Lara

Probationary Airframe Fitter Apprentice. I attended on rotating shifts (7 a.m.-3 p.m. for one week; 3-11 p.m. the next). My duties included assisting tradesmen with the inspection and repair of Boeing 747s. I began learning some basic trade skills such as riveting, filing and working with various sheetmetal tools and machines. (I left before we moved onto welding.) I also completed 2 modules of trade training at the Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology – Mathematics and Technical Drawing – with a miraculous pass mark of 92% in Mathematics!

Dad found out about this apprenticeship in 1988 through a man he knew there, Mr Frank Carroll, ASTA’s Quality Assurance Manager. Dad and I visited ASTA in the latter half of 1988, Mr Carroll giving us a guided tour. Dad and Dr Leo Murphy (a psychologist I saw for several months after my nervous breakdown) helped me successfully apply for the position. But, as with Kilvington, I sabotaged my chances there. I had a burgeoning anorexic eating disorder which affected my initial motivation, concentration and stamina. I was emotionally immature. I felt nervous and out-of-place, an imposter, being the sole female in an otherwise all-male group (though there was a female apprentice in a more advanced group). I’d had little contact with the opposite sex (lacking boyfriends or brothers) and was too shy to speak with them! I doubted my ability to cope with the technical material as I had performed poorly in maths and science subjects at school and had little mechanical aptitude (though I did well on the interview aptitude test); I felt the boys would have a natural advantage in this area. I endured no harassment at least; Mr Carroll and the other senior men kept an eye on me.

As I was either arising at 4 a.m. to fit in some exercise or home late around 12 a.m. I was constantly tired, finding it hard to stay awake in class. I had to board out away from home for the first time in Geelong, at Sue Calandro’s house in 52 Preston Street, Geelong West. She eventually evicted me due to my unsociable behavior (I stayed in my bedroom and communicated little with her). I did not drive and had to rely on lifts from workmates. Dad took me from home to work and back after my eviction, about an hour’s drive each way; an unsustainable situation.

All this compounded stress led to my reluctant decision to quit the apprenticeship (I was still within the 3-month probationary period) – the biggest mistake of my life as it turned out. I ended my one opportunity to gain viable skills for an interesting aviation career and failed Dad’s expectations. To this day I regret my decision as my life went downhill thereafter.

Following below, a more detailed account of my time at ASTA, written between 23 March 2002-20 September 2014.

ASTA

I had a chance to embark on an aviation career when I, with Dad’s help, secured an apprenticeship with AeroSpace Technologies of Australia (ASTA – formerly the Government Aircraft Factory), which I began in 1989. Dad, a CAA Airworthiness Surveyor, learned of the position through a man he knew there – Frank Carroll, the Quality Assurance Manager at ASTA Air Services in Avalon Airfield, off the Princes Freeway near Lara.

I had departed Kilvington around May in 1988 during Year 12, after Term 1. Already depressed and unable to cope with the intensive study workload of that year, I had a nervous breakdown and thus never completed school. My parents took me to a psychiatrist, Dr Leo Murphy, who helped me combat my depression and taught me the necessary job application and interview skills.

Around October I initially visited Avalon with Dad. Mr Carroll conducted us on a guided tour of the complex, its main structure being a huge hangar where commercial aircraft up to the size of 747s were serviced. A Continental Airlines 747 was undergoing maintenance during our tour and we got a close-up look at the massive jet, both inside and outside. (I have only a few surviving photos of inside the hangar, and of myself – all dressed up in jeans, assorted jewelry, white boots and white jacket!)

We also toured a nearby high-security factory where the RAAF’s then-new F/A-18 Hornets were being assembled. This was a highlight of my day there as I got to sit in the cockpit of a completed Hornet! It was parked inside the facility’s hangar. I remember Dad remarked that a lot of boys would give their right arms for such an opportunity! Unfortunately, for security reasons I could take no photos, so I now have only hazy memories of that scene. (If my life had worked out differently, I might have been flyingthe Hornet …)

The Avalon visit was an enjoyable and interesting day out; one which I now look back upon wistfully as a time when my future prospects seemed to be hopeful again. Sadly, that hope would be short-lived.

Dad next encouraged me to apply for an apprenticeship there; the vacant position was for an Airframe fitter Apprentice. Not something I would normally have considered as I was not particularly mechanically-minded (more artistically-inclined), but it was an opportunity nonetheless – a pathway into the aviation industry – and one which I jumped at as I had few others open to me!

I borrowed a navy-blue dress with white polka dots from my cousin, Heather Drummond, to wear to the interview. Though I was very nervous, the interview went well (I can’t recall the name of the man who interviewed me) and I managed not to stuff up the aptitude test! This consisted of a few English and maths questions, and interpreting some simple mechanical diagrams. (I was weak at maths, but extra tuition would be provided.) The General Manager, Graeme J. Reed, sent me a notification letter dated December 22, 1988:

I am pleased to inform you that your application for an Airframe Apprenticeship with ASTA Aircraft Services Pty. Ltd. has been successful.

My apprenticeship would begin on 23 January, 1989, and run for 4 years. The first 3 months were a probationary period during which I or the firm could cancel the apprenticeship contract at any time. I was the only female who applied for that year group!

Avalon was around an hour’s commute over the West Gate Bridge from my home suburb of Bentleigh. Not yet having my driver’s license, I lacked a car for personal transport and I would need to move out of home and find board in Geelong. Dad came to the rescue again! Through someone he knew at Bentleigh Baptist Church, Dad made contact with Sue Calandro, who agreed to take me on as a boarder. Her house, at 52 Preston Street, Geelong West, was located in a working-class area. I thus left the sanctuary of my bedroom and parents’ home for the intimidating world outside, a move I was ill-equipped to cope with.

Dad initially accompanied me on my first day of work at ASTA, but I was then left at lunchtime to join the boys in my apprentice year group in the canteen. How well I recall my nervousness and trepidation! I was too shy to talk to any of them.

In mid-1988 I had begun to diet and exercise for the first time in my life in order to improve my appearance and low self-esteem. But this well-intentioned regime mutated into an eating disorder (initially anorexia, then bulimia) which took over and ruined my life for the next 5 years or so, and exacerbated my reclusive and antisocial tendencies. With hindsight, I can see that my obsessive, addictive, perfectionist all-or-nothing personality made me a prime candidate for an eating disorder. Little did I know at the time, though …

When I began the apprenticeship I had lost much weight, ceased menstruation (which did not upset me!) and was on a near-starvation-level diet (my constant hunger later led me to compensate by eating masses of fibrous foods, which passed straight through me). My increasing obsession with exercising and dieting affected my initial enthusiasm, stamina and concentration.

My alternating weekly shifts (7:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. for one week; 3:00 p.m. to 11:00 p.m. the next) meant that I either arose at 4:00 a.m. to fit in some exercise, or arrived home at my boarding house after 12:00 a.m. I also attended a local gym when I could (I think I had to catch a bus to get there and back). I remember feeling lonely and isolated.

As I owned no car and there was no convenient public transport, I was dependent upon rides from workmates. On one shift I was forgotten, so I had to phone Frank Carroll at Avalon, who came to my rescue – driving all the way to Sue Calandro’s house to collect me!

All this stress was compounded by my nervousness and trepidation at work. I was the only girl in an otherwise all-male group, and I did not know how to converse with boys, being shy, timid and unused to male company (I lacked brothers, had only attended a single-sex school and had never dated – boyfriends had been absent in my life). There were few women at ASTA; only one other female apprentice in an older age group and the rest mainly concentrated in the secretarial/clerical section.

I could communicate more readily with Mr Carroll and the other older men around Dad’s age; they were mostly kind and helpful but I obviously could not remain in their company constantly (as much as I would have liked to!). A couple of the more advanced apprentices also made conversation of sorts with me; they gave me car rides too and from work. (I can’t recall their names.) One man with dark curly hair was quite nice. I recall him saying something once about going to work in Saudi Arabia as you could earn lots of money! Another man was a rougher type who drove a modified Holden or Falcon very fast – as I experienced on a few hair-raising rides home!

Though I was naïve, unworldly, inexperienced and thus vulnerable, I was never sexually harrassed or bullied; I found out later that Mr Carroll and others had kept a protective eye upon me. Perhaps the apprentices talked about me, making snide and suggestive remarks behind my back (as men tend to do). I was probably also something of a novelty; one whom they didn’t take very seriously. I will never know; I had no idea of how they regarded me.

At first I ate my meals with the others in the canteen, but later I retreated and found places to eat by myself, such as in a backroom behind the ladies’ toilets. I made a token attempt at integrating at first but fell back into my ingrained reclusive behavioral habits.

I lacked confidence in my own abilities, too. I believed that I would never manage to absorb and understand all the mechanical and technical material, as maths and science had been my weakest subjects at school. I felt that the other boys possessed a natural advantage over me in this area, to which they would have been more exposed as part of the masculine culture (if only I had been born male!). My interest in aircraft had always been more artistic.

And to add to my problems, I was evicted. Sue Calandro took exception to my unsociable reclusiveness, perhaps regarding it as an affront to her hospitality. One thing she seemed to find offensive was a note I wrote her once, saying that she had mice in her kitchen! Tiring of my eccentricity, she asked me to leave, so it was back home to Bentleigh for me. Sue wrote an uncomplimentary letter about me to my parents, which I later discarded.

Dad was forced to drive me to Avalon each day and to return home I had to scrounge a lift from a workmate, or rely on Dad again; a situation which could not continue for long. All these factors led to my eventual decision to quit.

Some activities I undertook at work were riveting and practicing filing techniques on scrap metal. We were to do welding, but I left before lessons in this began. A 747 was undergoing maintenance while we were there. I walked on one of its wings once with an older apprentice or instructor who told me what to look for – cracks, defects, etc. Another instructor said we would get to build our own kit plane and even fly it!

We had theory lessons in a small building near the main hangar; quite hot, initially, as it was summer. We wore white overalls and heavy black workboots. It was heavy and dirty work (lots of oil and grease!). I felt frail and tired all the time; side-effects of my severe weight loss and dieting.

I attended the Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology in the CBD (124 LaTrobe Street) for 2 weeks from the second week of February. I returned home to live during this time but still kept up my intensive exercising and dieting – I thus had trouble keeping awake during remedial maths classes. Being underweight and constantly tired extorted its toll. Again, I went to eat by myself at meals; I recall sitting by myself in a corridor to do this.

One of our teachers was a man Dad had known (a former workmate). Despite my problems, I somehow “successfully completed two modules of trade training at the RMIT (Mathematics and Technical Drawing), with a pass mark in Mathematics of 92%.” Admittedly, the maths was initially basic, but maybe I could have continued to do well, given practice. I’ll never know, now.

I can’t recall the names of any other apprentices. No doubt, all successfully completed their apprenticeships and went on to interesting aviation careers – unlike myself.

By now, I had given up; my increasing depression, loss of enthusiasm and anorexia were all taking their toll. I also faced the tiresome hassle of finding board again; as I found living with other people difficult, a solitary flat appeared to be the only option, but such accommodation was neither plentiful or cheap. (Upon reflection, I could perhaps have caught the train from Patterson Station to Flinders Street and then a country train to Lara and ridden my bicycle the rest of the way to Avalon; still a lengthy journey but no worries about having to find board.)

In the end, I just wanted out; to retreat back into the safety of my bedroom. I lacked the will and ambition to persist through these trials. It was an anguished decision to make, though; I did not really want to leave but a self-destructive impulse pushed me to do so, anyway. In my contrary stubbornness I seemed to feel a need to punish myself. I felt hopeless and awful, but once my mind was made up that was it … and I would, years on, regret this.

So, on 23 March, 1989, the apprenticeship ended, effectively shutting the door on my having a career of any worth, and of gaining useful skills. Mr Carroll wrote me a reference letter, giving the reason for my resignation thus:

After approximately two months working on Boeing 747 aircraft, she decided that the work was too heavy for her. (Components on an aircraft that size are quite bulky.) It is with regret that I accepted her resignation, as I believe she had the ability to become a skilled tradesperson.

No one will ever know, now … that’s about as positive a spin as could be put to disguise my abject failure.

Dad later told me that I had “paved the way” for other girls who might wish to apply for an apprenticeship there (some did), but that was small comfort to me, who had once again failed ignominiously, as I had the previous year at Kilvington in Year 12. My life went downhill from there and was utterly wasted.

ASTA is no more. In September of 1996 the aircraft maintenance workshops at Avalon Airport closed, due to continued losses in the millions of dollars. 450 workers there lost their jobs. ASTA had previously retrenched about 200 people in 1995 because of lack of maintenance work.

Avalon hangar, January 2010

Google Street View of Avalon hangar, January 2010

July

Bayside Employment Skills Training

A 4-week keyboarding course in which I first learned to type. I then joined a CES Job Club which I attended somewhat reluctantly for several weeks; I used to ring Mum at home instead of applying for jobs!

26 September

Applied for a part-time checkout operator position in what was then Bentleigh Safeway. Once the novelty wore off I began to hate it … and this would only worsen. Intended as a temporary job until I found something more suitable, I would instead remain there for 12 years. I was extremely stressed at times there, but inertia and depression stalled any more attempts at finding other work.

13 December

Moorabbin TAFE

I completed a 20-hour keyboarding course.

1990

Moorabbin TAFE Certificate in Office and Secretarial Studies

A 1-year course. Passes in:

At my parents’ suggestion I decided to undertake a year-long Secretarial Studies course at the local Moorabbin TAFE. There I learned various office skills. Again, I was unable to interact easily with the other girls and women in my class. As at ASTA, I initially ate lunch with the others but later withdrew to be by myself, going to great lengths to find a solitary retreat – and woe betide anyone who approached me! When eating lunch on the TAFE grounds one day, a friendly boy came over to me and tried to strike up a conversation but I rebuffed him angrily, telling him to “Go away!” I was still in the grip of bulimia. I was friendly with a couple of the older women, at least.

For one project we were videotaped while practicing a mock interview with a professional trainer. The videos were later shown in class, some invoking much hilarity. But a dead silence fell when my interview was shown; I looked tired and ill, being anorexically thin, and was obviously disinterested; the interviewer queried if I were not well. I cringed with embarrassment at the others’ reaction (and still cringe at the memory); it was indicative of my outsider status and that I wasn’t popular.

My eating disorder still occupied much of my attention (and would continue to do so for a few more years). I lost interest in my studies as the year progressed, being more intent on attending the nearby A-1 Workout Gym – I sometimes did this during study periods. Despite all this I managed to pass the course, receiving good grades. But no career eventuated after completing the first year of the COSS due to my unresolved personal problems. I then considered undertaking an art course the next year at Moorabbin TAFE so I enrolled in the Advanced Certificate in Art and Design; the interviewers seemed to like my portfolio. Mum paid a $90 enrollment fee.

10-21 September

CAA (Civil Aviation Authority) Safety Regulation Group, Melbourne

Two weeks’ practical placement as part of my TAFE COSS curriculum. My duties included copy typing, word processing, filing, telephone reception, mail sorting and preparation. Departments I was placed in included Administration Support, Examinations, Information Processing, Flying Operations, Commercial Ops and accompanying the Assistant General Manager, Mr Mike Lewino. An extra bonus was a daytrip to Tasmania on Wednesday 12 with the Senior Airways Surveyor, Mr Chris Genge, and 3 air traffic controllers. Essendon Airport was our departure and return point. We flew on a G-1000 turboprop passenger aircraft, visiting the airports and control towers at Launceston and Hobart.

Dad helped me gain this practical placement as he worked in the CAA’s Lonsdale Street building as a Sectional Airworthiness Surveyor. I accompanied Dad to and from work on the train, and encountered him sometimes during my CAA residence. My supervisor was Camille Koussia, a senior clerk in Administration. I was apprehensive at first, mainly concerned about the disruption to my rigid bulimic routine. Though my eating disorder again affected my enthusiasm and concentration I enjoyed myself nonetheless, as most people were nice to me. But my exercise addiction was such that I sought out lunchtime aerobics classes to attend, held in the basement by an aerobics instructor named Linda. My eating disorder precluded seeking job opportunities there as I wasn’t interested at the time, though working there would have been preferable to my dead-end job at the Job From Hell. Camille gave me a positive report:

Suzanne has somewhat shown a great deal of enthusiasm within the office. She is a very dedicated student and she uses her own initiative to find/help the administrative section to keep herself occupied at all times.

1991

4 February

I attended the Open Day for the Advanced Certificate in Art and Design course where the teachers discussed what was involved. I was horrified upon discovering the great amount of study the full-time course entailed and I had my name crossed off the enrollment list. The ACAD would have interfered with my rigid exercise and diet routine which had priority over everything else (and which essentially ruined my life). I did put my name down for the part-time course but nothing came of it. I must have been struck off the list as the ACAD course was very popular.

March

Dad suggested I apply for a course at the Melbourne School of Art and Photography in Elsternwick. Again I was successful at the interview, my art folio seeming to impress. But again I decided against undertaking the course due to my obsessive bulimia; my heart was not in it and Dad would have had to withdraw $5000 from his retirement money. I could not have that on my conscience, not when I was aware I would likely lose interest during the course.

My interest in study faded after that and I would become a virtual recluse for many years, wasting my life and potential.

2001

26 October

My last shift at Safeway after 12 years and 1 month. I could stand being there no more (I was essentially burnt-out) and quit, despite having no other job to move onto and poor employment prospects. I was there almost as long as I was at Kilvington, and what an utter waste of my life it was. At least I was learning something at school. As a checkout operator I felt that was no more than a worker drone in a menial and derided job. At the time I left I worked 13 hours a week part-time on a wage of $164.08. I had worked such hours for years; the only reason I was able to survive was because I lived with my parents. I was not prepared to work more hours because I was utterly miserable in the job. I lost track of the stress and humiliation I endured there, having hordes of customers coming at me, staring at me and thinking who-knows-what about me. Altercations with customers were frequent and unpleasant; they and some workmates complained about me on occasion as I could be sullen and uncooperative. I resigned in part because one supervisor and I had developed a mutual dislike which made coming to work even more of an ordeal. I was basically frustrated and bored; I had no interest in my job at all.

I came close to a nervous breakdown at times and watched the wall clock obsessively, counting down the hours until my shift ended. If dreading going to work and coming home sometimes in tears isn’t a sign something is wrong, I don’t know what is.

I left also because a new supervisor was altering everyone’s hours, something which every new supervisor seemed to do and which I was thoroughly fed up with (the job had, not surprisingly, a high turnover rate). I’d had an unprecedented year of misery and I just wanted out. If I didn’t I would be trapped there another 10 years or more. I had become a fixture there and things would never change in my life as long as I remained there. So I told the supervisor I was leaving.

Unfortunately, having left in my typically impulsive manner, I had zero employment prospects, having no skills or qualifications – 12 years at Safeway counted for nothing. Being severely depressed I had no inclination to go job-hunting. My savings when my last pay cheque was paid into my bank account totaled $3229.55 that would steadily be depleted over the next few months. All I felt like doing at that point was hiding in the sanctuary of my bedroom until I died.

My life up to that point seemed an object lesson in how to waste one’s potential. My basic problem was that I had never formed any clear idea of what I wanted to do and thus never set goals and ambitions with which to motivate myself. I therefore drifted aimlessly through my life, failing school and squandering career opportunities. I had sunk into a quagmire of depression and apathy as hope of doing anything worthwhile faded; I felt I was worthless and useless. Motivating myself to do anything seemed more daunting than climbing Mt. Everest.

Wednesday 7 and 14 November

I complete a 12-hour “Introduction to Computers” course held at the Edmund Barton Centre on the Chisholm Institute campus (what used to be Moorabbin TAFE). My first course of any description in 11 years! The teacher, June Thorne, was quite good. Two other women and two men also were in the class, all older business types so I felt a bit out of place and spoke very little. The course covered the basics of Windows and there was a lot of information to absorb.

2003

Monday 18 August

Nothing special on this date, but still unemployed (long-term now), broke, a near-recluse and dependent on my parents. Not on the dole. Am a lost cause.

2007

Wednesday 19 September

Same as the last entry. Nothing has changed. Will be 6 years unemployed next month.

2012

Saturday 15 December

Nothing changed; still long-term unemployed. My future does not look hopeful.

2023

Wednesday 27 September

And still little changed … but my parents are now elderly and in obvious mental and physical decline, and I have gradually (and grudgingly) become a carer, as I am still living at home – in the same, now equally-deteriorating house (93 Tucker Road, Bentleigh) and am still long-term unemployed, with even dimmer future prospects as I am dependent upon my parents for money. I am not in good health either.

Resumé

Below is a resumé I made in the early 1990s; I have reproduced it below (with some editing).

Profile

Name: Suzanne Bronwyn McHale

Date of Birth: 9 November 1970

Gender: Female

Experience

Civil Aviation Authority, Administrative Department – 1990, 10-21 September
Duties: variety of clerical/secretarial tasks
Notes: Two weeks’ practical placement as part of Moorabbin TAFE COSS course

Cashier, Safeway supermarket (now Woolworths), Bentleigh – 1989-2000
Part-time/casual cashier
Duties: handling cash, interacting with customers, operating a register/scanner

ASTA Aircraft Services Pty Ltd – 1989, January-March
Probationary Airframe Fitter Apprentice
Duties: assisting tradespersons with inspection and repairs of Boeing 747s

Morphet Press Pty Ltd – 1987
Two weeks’ practical placement, Year 11
Duties: assisting in the designing, layout and printing of company logos

Education

Moorabbin TAFE (now Holmsglen TAFE Institute), Victoria – 1990
Certificate of Office and Secretarial Studies
Passes in:

Moorabbin TAFE (now Holmsglen TAFE Institute), Victoria – 1989
Completed 20-hour keyboarding course

Kilvington Baptist Girls’ Grammar School (now Kilvington Grammar), Ormond, Victoria – Year 11
Passes in:

Interests and skills

I enjoy working with computers and have experience in designing and coding websites. I am familiar with the Windows and Apple operating systems.

I have been a carer for my elderly parents from 2023 to 2025 (they are now in residential care). I am responsible and willing to learn.

Wednesday, 15 October 2025 at 2:35:03 pm