Musings

An Episode; It can be Treated.

When I decided to design this blog a while back I did some reading about getting started as a new blogger and I discovered the most important thing to focus on first is finding your niche or your target audience. So, of course, there are various options available to the budding blogger. As you may guess by the title of my blog, my niche would be art, and yet I have not once posted about art on my blog since I revamped it about a month ago. So with that being said, my title may need some rethinking, even though I really like it. It is misleading.

This I found translated into the rest of my life. I feel as if my job has become “misleading” on some level. I have no idea if this will make any sense to anyone else but me, to be quite honest, I am not sure if I understand what I am saying. Please bear with me, I usually do end up making sense eventually. Let me give you some history.

Sixteen years ago (my oldest daughter is now fifteen) I thought I was meant to be a mom. I believed in my core that I was going to be the best mom. Not the perfect mom, but a darn good one. Then one month after my daughter was born I was so dismayed at how wrong I was. Heartbroken and angry at myself. I was not a great mom. I did not want to be a mom because I now believed that I was going to damage this little girl beyond repair. I don’t know if I can explain the magnitude to which my world was rocked. Everything that I believed to be true about my future was broken. All my future dreams had centered around being a mother, and now I had discovered that I was not that amazing mom and I was not going to have that amazing mom life I had dreamed about for so long. Life as I knew it was altered. The worst part was that I had a little, vulnerable baby that depended on me now. This was not something that I could decide to stop doing. I was a mom, for better or worse.

Fast forward fifteen years and here I am again. Except for this time it’s not about motherhood. I have come to understand that my dreams of motherhood needed to adapt to a different reality, and that was OK. The mom I wanted to be was not the mom I was meant to be. Thank goodness for small mercies.  It is, however,  about my job. Same kind of crisis different topic.

I have a job that I have longed for many years, much like my motherhood dream, I felt called to it from a very early age. I believed that I would be good at it, a natural.

Today I sit here and think what the hell was I thinking? I cannot do this work. I do not have anything of value to give to these people that walk into my office on a daily basis. Why did I think that I had anything to say or offer to them? I sit across the table from a client and tell them that it will be ok. Yesterday, I went to speak to a mental health professional because I found myself on the verge of a making decisions that I most likely would have regretted mere hours after making them.  I knew at this point that I had sunk into depression again. It was a place I had not been in a very long time.  Three years to be exact. I worked so hard on my wellness, I was sidelined. I did not expect to end up here again, not after all the work I had invested in myself.  So into the mental health office, I went. With the purest of intentions, I was told,“you will be ok”. In that moment I found myself misunderstood, unheard. I felt my crisis was being diminished. I wanted to get up and storm out of there and never go back. I asked her if depression is considered an illness can it be healed like other illness’? Or is this something I will have to live with for the rest of my life? She said it cannot be healed, but it can be treated. With that, I do not have to live with it always. Yes, I may have episodes much like the one I am having now, but they can be managed. At this point, I acknowledged that yes, this episode is better than the last because this time around I do not want to commit suicide. Therefore, treatment and a wellness plan have been successful for me.

So getting back to me not being able to do the job I am currently in and the one that I have for many years felt “called” to do. It is something  I may have to accept. I do not have the answer for this right now. I am angry to be in this place.

As I have learned from my aforementioned lesson time makes things look so much different.

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Categories: Musings

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