State of Things

I have little release for the pent-up anxiety, frustration, anger and depression that I live with every day.   My day job is to be a “diplomat” and always in control of the situation, negotiating the conflicts of others as routinely as brushing my teeth in the morning.   Photography was some measure of comfort, because at least I had control of that when all else seems out of my control; but even that does not seem to be enough to keep me from having the melt-down that I have had.

I work an IT job; I’m a midlevel manager, and have wonderful people who work for me, and wonderful people I work with.   I finally snapped, frustrated and fearful of my own place in that company I work for.   I have had to run away, to tend to my wounds (self-inflicted certainly, but a byproduct of the world we live in today.)  In the process, I’ve let down people I respect, and have found myself adrift with my own perception of “self”.

I used to disdain people who played the “health card” when they no longer could handle the workload.   After all, I could handle anything that came may way (until now.)   I was as surprised as anyone to have had the desire to ball up in a fetal position, and will the world away.

I am still coming to terms with what has happened, and hoping that I can come back to the job, regain the trust of people I admire and respect, and have a “normal” life again.   It is hard for me, though.   I am still spinning with self-doubt, wondering what all these 35 years of working really means.   No matter what I do, I still feel like I have not done enough.    No matter how “expert” at managing people, projects, personalities and problems, I have failed.  This feeling is very hard to shake, since I have always felt I am a realist about such things.   You either did it right, or you didn’t.    Well, I didn’t this time.   And I fear that I won’t have the strength to do it right next time either.

And worst of all, I don’t think others will have that trust that I’ve spent my career trying to keep.

I know that compared to many, my problems seem so small….and I would probably agree since I’m a compulsive empathizer.   I wish I could solve everyone’s problems, and have a hard time solving my own.

I am writing to the internet, because frankly I don’t know who else would be able to relate to what is happening to me now….and to complain to others who struggle with work, keeping the wealthy people wealthy, keeping healthy and alive…my problems seem insignificant.

But I will never again look down on someone who says “I can’t tak e it anymore”.  I know exactly how they feel.