Have I failed? Or should I just accept this new phase?

So friends, we meet again. This blogging journey is still new to me and it just so happens that I've decided to start this project amidst a psychological crisis. Over the past month, month and a half, I've been off of work and now on a half day schedule due to a psychological collapse with my BD. You never know when it's going to strike. Sometimes I can get through the chaos that life brings and come out triumphant on the other side, but other times, I wake up one day and I can barely muster enough energy to brush my teeth. This has happened before where I end up with a major depression and can't function for periods of time. In the past ten years, this is the third time and it has always had an effect on my ability to work.

Last week, I just hit my six year anniversary with my job. I have been fortunate enough over the past six years to have developed some great friendships, grew up and into a semi-respectable adult, and have had some advantages that would not have been afforded to me if I were at other jobs. In the past six years, this is the second "great depression" I have had. The first one during my time at this job was almost three years ago. I became so burnt out that I woke up one morning and just cried. I cried for days and existing was about all I could manage to do. This is when I ended up in my second round of an outpatient program and was out of work for two full months. In some ways, it ended up being timed just right for other major health developments with my husband, but I will follow up with another post about this particular phase in my life.

Fast forward to this year, mid-August of 2021, I felt the collapse happening again. Work was becoming more difficult to manage, we were in the middle of planning and executing a move to a new place, and my daily thoughts turned sour. It started with calling out on a Monday so I could work on cleaning and packing. Tuesday, I woke up and started getting ready for work and a huge wave of heaviness filled my body like an anchor sinking to the bottom of the ocean. I sat down on my bed, staring off and realizing I wasn't going to be able to run my operations team very well today, so I called off again, promising that no matter what, I would return to work on Wednesday. Wednesday came and I cried my whole way to work. I got as far as finishing our daily meeting and then escaped to my office. Briefly after, my boss came to check on me and I was just drowning and overwhelmed with sadness. I just cried and told him that this feels like how I felt the last time I had to take time off work and that I would need to possibly do the outpatient program again. He agreed that if I felt like this was something that I needed, that I need to take care of myself and do so. So l left after that meeting and proceeded to be out of work for the four weeks following. I did the outpatient program for two weeks, and then spent two weeks just recuperating at home.

At this point, I've been dipping into my savings to get by and I knew that even though I wasn't really ready to return, I had to make the decision to start making money again and at least do half days to bring in some sort of income. I let my boss know on the Sunday prior that I was going to start coming in again and do half days since I was going to be starting to attend group therapy and skills groups in the afternoons. Monday, September 20th, I made my way back to work, surprising most of my coworkers since they had no idea when I was making my grand return. I did my best to function in my job, despite my ruminating anxiety, and got through my first day unscathed. I returned to work the next day and did much of the same. Well, Wednesday rolls around and my fragile psyche was not prepared for what was to come.

After our morning meeting, my boss asked me to follow him into his office. I had a sinking feeling that this was not going to be a good meeting, and unfortunately I was right. He proceeded to tell me that essentially I was being demoted from my supervisor position. Tears started immediately streaming down my face and a sense of shame washed over me. I thought I was doing what was best, that I just needed to take this time to get myself right so I could return and be as functional as I once was. He told me that he was giving the position to my coworker, which I wouldn't have picked a better person for the position, but it still hurt like a stab to the gut. I can understand it from a business perspective as he proceeded to tell me that he needs someone who can consistently be present but it also felt isolating and almost demoralizing, almost like a punishment for doing what I needed to to try and get better and for a disease that I had no control over having. He then followed up that he was going to essentially create a new job title for me and work on some different projects that have been neglected due to not having enough time or dedicated resources to do so. I'm grateful that I didn't get fired but I was hurt and upset and felt like I failed him. I told him that and he replied with saying that he actually feels the opposite and that he failed me with much of the ambiguity that has been lingering in the background. If that is actually the case, why do I still feel like I'm being punished? He told me that he needed to write a new job description for me and once he did that, he would then announce the formal transition to the team. Once I knew that this was my fate, I completely checked out from operations. I have struggled with underlying anxiety every day since my return and even more so knowing that this transition hasn't happened yet.

It has now been a week since he removed me as a supervisor but he still doesn't have a job title for me, nor has he made an announcement to the team regarding this change in leadership. I have essentially spent the past week in limbo, (maybe purgatory is a better term for it,) waiting for my new job title that has yet to be administered. Going into work every day pretending to be something that I'm not anymore since no one else is really aware of the situation is like a punch to the gut. I just want to crawl into a pit of despair, burrow myself in my office and block out everyone. Essentially that's what I've been doing. I haven't been out on the floor directing things in days and in that down time, I've done a lot of reflecting and out of that lack of direction and purpose came this blog.

Putting this is writing has been a little cathartic and maybe this is something I have needed to help process my grief from this transition, along with all of the other feelings and experiences I have had in my life. My new job duties that I'm aware of seem like it could be a good change of pace and might have some potential to work from home on certain projects. I've always wanted to do some work from home. Whether that is the best for me emotionally or psychologically is still up for debate since it can be isolating but at least I would be able to be in the comfort of my own home, surrounded by my cats, and not have the plaguing reminder of once was.