My Life on Stress Leave

Part Four: Resurfacing

At the three month mark, I got restless. I was tired of living in limbo. The highs and lows were less abrupt and I felt I had more capacity for real life. I was able to focus again and I desperately wanted to put that focus to good use. I needed to move on, to be productive again, to take control of my life. I decided it was sink or swim time. 

Before I could make any big moves, I had to know if staying in my job was realistic. Would it be better now that I had a chance to regroup? Was it my defeated state, my depleted capacity that had prevented me from coping at work, or was it simply time for me to move on? Would the comfort of a role I knew so well, the security of a consistent paycheck and the generous extended health benefits still be enough? It was time to go back to work and find out, time to give it one more shot. Looking back, I think I already had my answer. I think I knew I had to leave. I knew staying was the safe move, but that it would cost me my soul. Despite knowing this, taking that leap was terrifying so I lied to myself for a long time and tried my best to make it work. Realistically, I think I had been lying to myself for close to two years. I knew the anger and frustration were taking a toll on me, but I couldn’t seem to let go of the ownership I felt for my role, for my patients. So I made myself believe I was fine, told myself it wasn’t that bad and convinced myself that I could fix it. All lies. 

After three months of distance, that feeling in my gut was still there. The one that had been trying to tell me to leave, trying to show me that my job was no longer worth the damage it was causing me. Only now, the alternative had changed. Now I had some clarity as well as the brain power and the strength to act on it. I no longer believed that giving up on life was the only way out. I could see another viable path. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but it didn’t seem impossible anymore. I had to start living the life I wanted to live. It didn’t have to be a distant dream, it could be reality. After seven years in a role that never inspired me, that had long ago served its purpose, it was time to remember why I got into this profession in the first place. It was time to do what I had wanted to do all along. It was time to start my own thing. Maybe it would be an epic failure, but I had to try. 

During one particularly constructive counselling session, I identified a long standing pattern of mine. I saw that I repeatedly let things get too far, go on too long. Always wanting to make the rational, responsible decision, prove my resilience, be dependable, I stay in situations well beyond their expiration date. When I start to feel that my current circumstance, whether it be a job, a career path, a location, a living situation or a relationship, is no longer serving me, instead of exploring that feeling, I push it aside. I convince myself the feeling will pass, that it’s not that bad or that I have to stick it out because I made a commitment or because the alternative is far too uncertain. Inevitably, that feeling grows and I find myself agitated, angry, bitter and exhausted. Even then, I stay. I allow the situation to slowly eat away at me until it eventually breaks me and I snap. I contemplate these big life decisions for so long, going back and forth in my head for months, even years, unwilling to pull the trigger. And then suddenly, in an instant, I have made up my mind and I need things to change now. Over the course of this sixty minute counselling session, countless instances flashed through my mind. I had been doing this since childhood. I saw that this behaviour was the catalyst to my ingrained urge to run. Of course, the situations themselves had changed as I aged, but the way I handled them had not. With this new sense of clarity, I feared that I would repeat my pattern. I worried that I would go back to work, finally decide it was time to go and blow up my whole world. This time, there was so much more at stake. Now I had a career, I was a professional. I also had a partner, a mortgage and bills. Impulsive, life changing decisions were not as simple as they were when I was in my twenties, single, working meaningless jobs and renting shitty basement suites. I couldn’t cut and run this time. I had to remain patient and calm, to suppress the urge to fully speak my mind and sever the relationships I had worked so diligently to build for all those years. It would be idiotic to close so many doors with one emotionally charged move.  

Thirty minutes into my first day back at work, I had made up my mind. I was certain that I had to resign. With my newly found insight, courtesy of counselling, I resisted the urge to throw my hands up and storm out. Instead I kept my cool. I reminded myself to focus on my work and let go of all the adjacent broken pieces. The pieces that had weighed so heavily on me for years. The ones that I had dedicated so much time and energy into trying to repair, only to be defeated time and time again. It finally sunk in that I couldn’t fix something that refused to admit it was broken. That battle was no longer mine to fight. It was time to focus all of that energy on pursuing my personal goals. I wasn’t doing anyone any favours by sticking around. My coworkers deserve someone who hasn’t become bitter and jaded, someone who is still excited to come to work. My patients deserve someone who hasn’t been crushed by the system, someone who has ample fight left in them and who is better equipped to block out the noise. Most importantly, I deserve to take control of my career and find joy in my life. 

I waited for my meeting with my manager, scheduled for the following week. Walking into his office, I felt confident and calm. I knew I was doing the right thing. I was honest about the seemingly irreparable issues and the impact they have had on me over the years. I was open about wanting more from my career and explained that it was simply time for me to move on. I offered to stay on longer than my required two weeks to give him time to fill the position and help with the transition. It was a constructive and respectful conversation and I felt fully supported and heard. 

While I was in the thick of it, those three months on leave felt completely unproductive. But walking out of that meeting I realized that I did have something to show for it after all. I no longer felt trapped. I had regained control of my thoughts. I had found clarity. I was actually excited about my career again, which gave me hope for all aspects of my life. My drive was back, professionally and personally. It was like my mind had been rewired. For years, I had been banging on a locked door, trying to gain access. It never occurred to me that I didn’t even really want to get inside. I persisted because I believed I was supposed to. Or perhaps it was simply because I refused to back down from what I perceived to be a challenge. But it wasn’t a challenge, it was an opportunity. An opportunity to move on and try another door. To find something better. I got so wrapped up in this “normal” life that I didn’t stop to question anything, but the life I was living wasn’t working for me. Instead of accepting that, I convinced myself I was the problem, that my life was great but I was so broken that I couldn’t enjoy it. While I have highlighted my professional life in this story, my personal life has certainly followed the same course. Not wanting to hurt anyone, ruffle any feathers or be seen as dramatic or selfish, I had been allowing the needs of others to dictate my decisions. In recent years, I had become better at speaking up, but ultimately, the guilt and shame would prove victorious and I would cave. As awful as the process was, being forced to re-evaluate everything made me see that I had lost sight of my goals and values and had somehow allowed others to have far too much power over me. 

I certainly wouldn’t say I’m cured or that this nightmare is fully behind me. It is still a battle and I expect, to some extent, it always will be. Honestly, my exit plan is still tucked away in the back of my mind. For now, I’m going to let it loiter. It may not be healthy, but there is some comfort in having a last resort escape plan. Maybe one day it will fade away completely. Maybe not. I know life will continue to be full of ups and downs and that I will likely end up back in the darkness at some point. But now I know that it’s okay to fall and, more importantly, it’s okay to allow others to help pick me back up. Now I can see the value of rest and I have a better understanding of what it means to take care of myself. Maybe next time I will be able to pay more attention to what my body is trying to tell me and allow myself to take a step back before I sink too low. Maybe I will have the confidence to go after what I really want. Hopefully, at the very least, I will have the capacity to consider the less extreme options. 

I am so grateful for all of the support and kindness that I have received throughout this gruelling process. This experience has been both horrendous and liberating. I am very fortunate to have people in my life that love me and believe in me even when I don’t. They saved me. If anyone reading this is in that dark, hopeless place, please let your people love you. Let them in, let them help. Trust them to take care of you. You’re not a burden. You’re not selfish. You’re not unreasonable. Accepting the help and taking the time to heal does not mean you’re letting the darkness win. It means you’re taking away its power.