Here. I've been here. Sort of.
I've debated saying anything. I'm still not sure about it....but I suppose it'll help to get it off my chest. To let people know they aren't alone...and to let myself know that I'm not alone. Perhaps. Or maybe this will end up deleted before it exists for long. We'll see.
I've jokingly referred to the past month or so as an existential crisis. I am a woman on a mission...to get myself worked the fuck out. On top of all the gym chaos, which has led to some personal decisions on my own training and long term plans, the rest of my life has been pitched into disarray.
I haven't been truly happy at my job since I started it. There's no one particular reason why, just a general sense of meh. My staff is wonderful, my boss is great, and I love working with the kids. On the surface, it's ideal. But still, the meh persists. Then, a few weeks ago, the thought started to creep up. And finally the words left my mouth - "I don't want to be a social worker anymore". That may be one of the most terrifying sentences I have ever uttered. I am a social worker. At the heart of my being, I am a helper. I love people. I wholeheartedly believe that if I can do something to make someone's life better, no matter how small, that's what I am to do. Compassion and kindness are not just ideals, they're fundamental to a good life.
It's hard to put into words why this thought continues to persist. Logically, I know that there are good people. I know that the work we do is worth it. I know it's necessary to push through for the sake of those little bits of help and progress. It's hard to do this job and not occasionally think about how terrible humans can be. But usually you deal with that...process it, reality check yourself, focus on the positive, and carry on. Unfortunately, I don't think this is based solely in logic. The emotional end of it all is looking like burnout. How do I explain this? It's difficult - to tell you the details of the things that ping around my brain could be disturbing to the general public. The things you see and hear in this field leads to an everyday "normal" work day that doesn't exist outside of mental health work.
I'm just so tired. Tired of the trauma and the terrible stories. Tired of seeing the dark side of humanity - I could tell you stories that would give you nightmares for months. Tired of patiently explaining over and over and over again to parents the reason why they can't take their dangerously ill child home after one night. Tired of patiently explaining over and over and over to other parents why they must, in fact, pick up their child once they are discharged. Tired of watching budding personality disorders take shape. Tired of watching kids at the mercy of the adults in their life get blamed for being "terrible", when they are merely functioning in the way their world has taught them to. Tired of feeling frustrated with those same kids when they act out for the same reasons. Last week, a parent started discussing abandonment as an option, and I actually felt myself deflate. Listening to an adult debate the merits of taking the hit of a fine and 60 days in jail for the sake of not dealing with a child anymore is soul sucking. While it's not the worst thing I've heard, it certainly one of the significant final straws.
All this, plus I sit at my desk. look around, and think, "This is it? This is life". No. It's not. There's something more. I don't know what. But this isn't it. Not for me.
I have no safe space right now. The gym used to be my haven. Training was my therapy. But I haven't been in weeks after all of the messy shit, and I frankly don't even want to be there. It only brings up more sadness and anger and frustration walking through the door. Not having that outlet along with such general overwhelming meh....that's a bad combo.
It's been a bad few weeks. I've resorted to pseudo-hermit status as self protection. I've sat with the discomfort and had a lot of moments of anxiety and despair, and let myself wallow when I needed to. I had to open up to a few very close people, because just finally admitting to what was going on and how I've been feeling has been a release in itself. That was probably the hardest part. I'm self aware enough to process on my own, but being potentially vulnerable is not my strong point. For many reasons.
In the past few days, I've decided to take control of what I can. Baby steps and little changes, just to keep it from being overwhelming. Focusing on the little bits right here right now has helped to manage the worries and anxiety about it all. Usually, my chosen creative outlet is writing. But in times like this, I find myself blocked and only grow more anxious trying to force myself to write. I don't have the attention span to read. And watching tv/movies seems to allow my brain to keep on ticking away on whatever wild rollercoaster it wants to be on. So, I took up painting. It's soothing. I love mixing colors. I love laying them down on canvas. I don't have deep artistic skill for realistic paintings. I've probably got the art skills of a kindergartener. But it makes me happy. And when I'm painting, I'm right there in that moment. No worries, no chaos, just....me and the paint. It doesn't matter if no one else ever sees what I produce. It doesn't matter if they do see it and think it's ridiculous. It pleases me. It brings me peace.
I have also been systematically paring down the negative shit I run across daily. Being super sensitive to things really makes it glaringly obvious how much bullshit you tolerate every day. Reducing this has been as simple as paring down my Facebook friends list....if someone posts garbage day after day, instead of "unfollowing" them or just trying to skim past it, I unfriend them. That doesn't apply to "bad day" posts or necessarily things I don't agree with - it's the ignorant shit, the racist garbage, the junk that does absolutely nothing to add anything of value to anyone's life. My close friends aren't like this, and anyone worth having around and having contact with doesn't do that shit either. It has also involved not feeding into someone's negative attitude. If someone tends to dive off in that direction, I take a deep breath, don't get drawn in, and stay as neutral as possible. This seems to be pretty effective and keeps me from internally escalating with them.
It's not perfect. But here I am. Working my way through. Eventually I'll get the gym situation sorted. Eventually I'll get back to a training routine. The summer contest is still just fine and has several contingency plans...so soon enough I'll be immersed in planning for that. But I'll also keep a balance. I'll figure out what I want to do with my career. I'll keep on painting. And go have adventures. This weekend I finally experienced a few good days in a row. Today was the first work day in weeks that was good. Tomorrow may be as good, it may be a fight, but either way....it'll be. And I'll handle it.
