I’m feeling a mix of anxiety and excitement right now.
I spoke with the HR representative over the phone, and she mentioned that my background check might take a while to clear—possibly due to my frequent address changes or having a criminal record. During our conversation, she asked if I was hiding anything, so I told her about my two DUIs. To my surprise, she sounded relieved and explained that they mainly worry about violent offenses or aggravated DUIs, which mine weren’t.
She then asked if I wanted to start this Monday, but nothing is guaranteed until my background check goes through. She assured me that as long as I was honest about my criminal history, I should be fine.
Regardless, I’ll be training for four days next week, and I’ll get paid for it whether I’m officially hired or not. So I’m going. At the very least, I can use those days to prove that I’m a reliable employee.
It’s been almost two months since I applied for this job, and waiting this long has been frustrating, given my circumstances. At 28, I’m still living with my dad. We butt heads often—it’s just his personality—but he means well. He’s not charging me rent or expecting me to buy my own groceries, and for that, I’m grateful.
Even so, I feel like a failure. Honestly, I don’t know what’s keeping me going. I have no clue what the future holds, but whatever happens, I’m giving it my all this time. If the background check doesn’t go through and I don’t get hired, I’ll keep moving forward. Another company has already sent me multiple emails about setting up an interview at a local gas station. It’s not the most exciting opportunity, but at this point, any income is better than nothing.
And if landing a job continues to be this difficult, I’ll just settle for fast food work and use every dollar I make to train in Mixed Martial Arts.
This thought has been lingering in the back of my mind for a while—I have this gut feeling that the only option left is to fight for my future, literally. I’m not particularly impressive in terms of physique or athleticism. At best, I was averagely fit about nine years ago, but nothing extraordinary. Now, at 28, it feels like a gamble—but what other choice do I have?
I don’t mind taking a few hits. I’ve endured pain, both physical and emotional. A few months ago, I broke my brow bone, and two years ago, I was in jail.
At this point, what do I have to lose? I’ve been defeated in every possible way as a man—if I can even call myself that.
That’s why I’m giving it everything I’ve got. I refuse to hide anymore. I don’t care if people laugh or criticize me.
I’m going to be that try-hard guy.