I thought I knew what “being stressed” felt like. I didn’t have a clue. Now I know. I haven’t liked it one bit, but I have more compassion now for other people in the vice-grip. Moving, new job, quitting new job, changing careers, physical injuries, financial problems, relationship problems… “Times are tough” is what I’ve been hearing a lot lately. I hear you, brother.
So, I’m back temping after a brief stint as a mental health case manager. What a nightmare that job was. The company that hired me was in total chaos and put me in ethically compromised positions my first few days on the job. Several people quit or were fired during my first week there. My supervisor told me, “I didn’t get any training and you’re not going to get any either.” No thanks. Besides, I never wanted to be a case manager in the first place. I just felt desperate for work after months of searching. Times are tough. The day I handed in my resignation I was close to a good old-fashioned nervous breakdown. My personal life was in shambles as well, and the whole situation plunked me into a pretty severe depression.
I’ve always considered myself to be a rock-solid paragon of psychological strength and balance. Most people who know me seem to think so too. I suppose I’ve had a pretty easy life, relatively speaking, but I really thought I’d be able to step up if and when the proverbial shit ever hit the proverbial fan. Nope. I fell apart quicker than a house of cards in a hurricane. I’m picking up the pieces now, feeling a little more grounded with each passing day. I still don’t know what I’m doing, where I’m going, or what’s going to happen next. Times are still tough, but that’s okay. I’ve always learned from my failures, benefited from my defeats. These past two months have sucked. Big time. Elephant balls. But if I’m blogging, I’m breathing.
[Deep breath]