There's a difference between quitting and knowing when you 've had enough. At first, I didn't understand that they weren't the same thing. I believed there was something wrong with me, that I was horribly flawed and unable to handle what others found easy. I kept pushing myself to do work that I knew was not right for me. I forged on day after day because I told myself that I had to, that there was no other way. Just keep going - hell, I had even labeled the alarm on my phone that way, keep going. I wanted to believe that it would get easier and I would magically one day reach the happiness that would make all of the struggle worth it. What I failed to see was that the end result wasn't my happiness that I was working towards, it was someone else's. I was busting my ass for someone else's dream and wondering why I wasn't fulfilled.
I accepted the job offer almost 2 years ago. I knew in the first week that I had bitten off more than I could chew. I felt overwhelmed most of the time, but managed to keep my head above water and eventually became pretty good at my job. Then a merger happened and my work load drastically increased, but my hours stayed the same. I thought I could handle it, I put in more effort and struggled even more. I gained weight, was exhausted and started having gall-bladder issues. I would wake up each morning around 2:30 thinking about everything I had to do. Sunday afternoon, feelings of anxiety would surface because of the approaching Monday.
I was a stressed out mess. I had been asking for help for over 6 months. Then I realized that it wasn't going to change, there was always going to be too much to do. For the length of my employment there was always something causing an increased workload with the promise of relief to come at a future time. Relief had forgotten to stop by my office and I reached my limit. I sent an email to my supervisor stating that I was too stressed to complete my work that day and that I was going home. I couldn't face her, but I couldn't just walk out because you are supposed to give two weeks notice. In the email I explained that I would be back the next day to complete my last two weeks of work. I felt awful that I couldn't handle myself in a more professional manner. I went home and cried for hours until I fell asleep.
I returned the next day and had a panic attack as soon as I unlocked my office door. It immediately became too hot in there, my heart was racing and I couldn't breathe. I went and sat down and focused on taking slow, deep breaths. I was able to bring myself out of panic mode after about 15 minutes. The next day began the same way, but only lasted for 10 minutes. My supervisor stopped by my office to try to convince me to stay. She suggested I take a few days off and we'd go from there. I did take several days off, but was unable to relax. I was really jumpy and sensitive to sounds and light. I went to the doctor for a solution. I explained that I was experiencing job stress related panic attacks. I am not one to take medication, and wanted to find out how the stress was affecting me and how to manage the stress better. She prescribed Ativan and an anti-depressant used to treat anxiety. I filled the prescriptions and left feeling like she didn't hear a word I said.
When I got home, I read the warnings on the prescriptions and decided not to take them. The precautions and side effects seemed way scarier that what I was currently experiencing. I faced a choice. I could continue working at my current job and take the meds to be able to handle it, or I could choose to find (or create) a working situation that would be better for me. I thought about how ridiculous it seemed to have to be medicated in order to manage the stress of your job. Something is very wrong with that scenario, did I really want to be a part of that? It's not like this was popping a benadryl to be able to handle a roomate's cat. Brain chemistry is a delicate balance and messing with it shouldn't be handled in a 10 minute appointment with someone you've never met before. Was I willing to medicate myself to be able to handle a job that I didn't really love in the first place?
I returned to work 5 days later and confirmed my resignation. I learned that I had reached my limit. Instead of feeling like a quitter, I had found strength in admitting that the requirements of this job were too much for me. The pressure had pushed me too far and even though I was feeling better, I knew it wouldn't take much to send me back to feeling like my skin was on inside out. It took a lot of courage for me to admit that I cannot do it all, but now I know that I am not supposed to.
I learned so much through this process. Some of it I already knew, but refused to accept. I am a highly sensitive person, empathic, creative, unconventional and I tend to see things differently than the majority. When you put me in a fast paced corporate accounting department, it is like putting a koala bear in the center of an L.A. freeway. It throws the koala into panic mode and it throws off the drivers in a rush to reach their destination. Sometimes it causes a big wreck and everyone just stops and stares.
I once read that the greatest opportunity can be found when a limit is reached. I didn't just reach my limit, I hit it head on at 100 mph. So once I recover from the crash, I will find my opportunity. I am smiling already because of the idea that there is an opportunity out there for me. Even if I don't know exactly what it is, I am excited about the possibility of it. I imagine something wonderfully creative, working from home in a calm and nurturing environment. I can't wait to see how this unfolds!
