I'm Afraid Of Going Back To Work

Last year I got what seemed like the perfect job for me. It was creative, it was in the music industry, it helped people, it paid well, and I was able to work remotely. I started off great, I learned so many new things and met great people. I was doing the job, but slowly it felt just too overwhelming and I kept on making mistakes. My boss was so gracious in their warnings and trainings, wanting me to do well but in the end I failed. My mental health was in the pits and after living on such high anxiety every single day, afraid of failing and disappointing, I broke down. Opening my emails brought so much anxiety, I could not focus, I kept on forgetting things. 

I have lived with my mental illness for basically my entire life. It wasn't until 2020 that I officially got a doctor's diagnosis but I've always known I just never had the money to see a doctor or a therapist. Chronic Depression and Anxiety. Having an official diagnosis makes me feel validated. So many relationships that I couldn't steward well, it's not excused but at least somehow explained. Some days are better than others. Chronic means it's always there, I can perform tasks at hand but little to nothing gives me satisfaction. This is probably how I would describe majority of my life in the workforce. I can show up and do it, but most days I have no motivation even though I probably could do a better job. 

A mental breakdown can look like many different things. This time I had felt it brewing for days, for weeks. I kept stuffing it down because I needed to be an adult. "You can't just cry your way out of your responsibilities." I told myself. That's what babies do. I stuffed it, and I tried using organizational tactics to help me. The more I stuffed it in, the larger it got until one day after meeting with my boss for the dozenth time and I couldn't stuff it in any longer. I fell onto the floor of my then fiance's bedroom and wept and wailed for what felt like hours. My snot covered his chest and his pillow. Every time I tried to stop crying, groans of tiredness and despair escaped me until they came out as louder wails. Everything felt like a blur. I eventually tried to stop crying and we tried to watch a movie to distract me but my brain was spiraling and I did not know how to stop it. I had cried so much that my head felt wrung out and dry as a bone. My chest was heavy and I was so exhausted from feeling anxious and tired for weeks I just wanted it all to stop. I found myself staring at the floor with my bloodshot eyes following the wave of my anxiety billowing again. I have never let myself cry this much, there has always been way too much work to do for me to spend this much time crying. Guilt is loud and booming. I just wanted it all to stop. I thought about the sleeping pills in my bedroom and taking them all just for some respite. 

I've never been suicidal but there have been plenty of times in my life where I just wish I just didn't exist anymore because the negative emotions and thoughts were just too overwhelming. The moment I caught myself thinking about taking the pills, I got scared and immediately told my fiance. "I am not saying this because I want to be away from you but I'm saying I want it all to stop and right now that's the only way I can think of escaping and I'm scared. Let's call the doctor." 

I don't know if I would have been so brave to say that if I was alone or if I had been with anyone else. The doctor suggested benadryl for a good night's sleep. My fiance stayed with me to make sure I was safe and kept watch over me the next weeks. I quit my job the next day but gave them a week to transfer over responsibilities. I felt like tissue paper. Fragile, see through, empty. Basic hygiene was difficult. I had to be reminded to eat. I slept all the time. 

This all happened two weeks before my wedding. I'm here now, I made it. I'm still healing, I'm still processing. Writing this is the first step. Because my wedding was such a big deal, it's been hard to look back at the mental breakdown as a big deal too. We've been married a little under 5 months and my lack of a career path is weighing on me. I want to contribute to this family. We are fine financially but it would help if I also had an income but I am terrified of going back to work. I'm terrified of committing to something and being faced with my weaknesses, I'm afraid of failing, I'm afraid of disappointing people again. I am afraid of the same thing happening. 

I am feeling useless and directionless when it comes to my career but I am happy in my marriage. I feel safe, I feel seen, I feel accepted. Which is more than I could have ever said in my life before I met this man. A large part of me, the hyper feminist part, is saying that I need a career and that I can't live my whole entire life for my husband. I feel like I am 31 years old and I have so much more to give. But in this season of my life all I want to give to is this man and I am okay with that. If the only thing I can brag about is how much I loved my husband, then that's enough. 

I will heal, I am healing. I am healing while loving and learning to be loved and known in return.