Chapter Twenty-Three

This week is dedicated to coming up with strategies to return me to work with minimal chances of another meltdown. Leslie suggests talking to Dr. Thompson about doubling up my meds. Just nuke my brain with happy pills until it figures out no one is actually trying to kill my body. Suppress the fight or flight instincts. I'm concerned about that option on several levels.

1. Evidently I need to be alert and guarded about who I talk to and what I say. Particularly my opinions are not wanted or welcome, plus the rules that apply to me are very different than the rules that apply to my co-workers. I need to not get lulled back into that false team feeling again. It's ok for the rest of the "team" to complain about things or have opinions about decisions, not me. Even one on one meetings with assurances of confidentiality and Please come talk to me when you have concerns, are not to be trusted. Ever. On second thought maybe more happy pills will make it more possible to just not care. I still have no idea about the "communicate more professionally" issue. To this day I've not been given any examples of when I didn't.

2. I am a recovering alcoholic. 24 years sober. Dependence on any chemical bothers me. I know, I know, this isn't drug abuse, not even close. I really do need these meds right now, my natural body chemistry was completely deleted and exhausted. I think that without the meds and Ken's support there would have been some hospital time involved here. But, the impulse to double down on happy pills does need a hard look at necessity vs. convenience. I still have the panic pills as back up if I get into a bind. Right?

3. It is a 40 minute drive. That's a lot of happy to be driving around with. Not really something I want to play with. I would never forgive myself if I hurt someone.

Leslie suggests asking for a transfer. I laughed out loud on that one. That's part of the original issue. I've been begging to get out of that cubicle and back out with people for over five years now. All those hang in theres, we are working on it, wow its just bad timing, we have these envision people we need to work into our group, oh we forgot to put ", or 4 years work experience in related field" in that job description, we will get that fixed. Next time Tamara. Opportunities are going to open up here. All words, no action.

And of course, after this little meltdown, there isn't another manager there who would touch me. So I am going right back into the same situation that melted me down in the first place. Of course I am no longer the same person. I am learning to not care so much. The extrovert in me has been beaten into submission. Work is a place. It is not a family. Work does not care about me. I get money and they get someone to answer the phone.

 I am aware of what to look for in myself. All those needs I have to create and nurture will have to be done elsewhere. My time away from work will be dedicated to creativity, health, and self improvement. At work I can turn that part of me off.

I wish quitting were an option. We were already working on downsizing before all this happened. Ken and I are one year into a three year plan. Even at three years it was an aggressive plan, not sure how we can modify it to make it happen faster. Well, besides selling the house. I'd rather save that for plan Z, not plan A.

So, basically I'm left with suck it up. Albeit on happy pills, but suck it up. Continue to eat good foods, exercise, weekly Leslie and Dr. Thompson visits for a while, create beautiful things, and play. I am not ready to give up on my Burning Man plans. We have invested so much of ourselves and have so many people depending on us. At this point Leave Without Pay is my only option. And that certainly won't make anyone at work happy.

Breathe in two three four, breathe out two three four. My work environment does not define me. I know my truth. I know my value.