Grieving: My Concept of a Job

Apr23

Things have been quiet here. One reason is that I’m working on a website for my writing. A second reason is that I’ve had nothing positive or useful to say about work, redefinition or my learning.

Marty McConnell once said:

“I don’t own
enough rage for it all — I am
ninety-five miles per hour on I-81, sprinting
to track the tirade vibrating
on the next stage

is Anybody Listening?

I live
in search of a cause worth dying for”

Quoted from “Give me one good reason to die”.

I’ve realised I do own enough rage for it all. And sadness. And grief.

I grieve for the injustices of others. I grieve for the childhood, the university courses, the beliefs I had to teach myself in 2007 when I realised my father’s view of the world poisons everything he touches. I grieve for the promises I was always given about a career.

And I’m grieving for the processes I was assured about in my interview. I asked how they run supervisions, and I was answered by ALL THREE panel members; each with their different responses but all agreeing that it’s of the upmost importance and that as a new member of staff I’d get more.

I’ve had 2.5 supervisions in 4.5 months. I requested one two weeks ago, and got no reply. Today I asked again, and I was offered one in four weeks time. Three weeks and 6 days I guess, that’s as good as four weeks. Despite me crying at work last week and this week. Despite me being given a case load equal to other members which I shouldn’t have until my 6 month “beginner” period is up.

Things are shifting, things are changing and I recognise we’re all in this whirlwind – uncertain and insecure… But I am grieving for the beliefs I once held, for the lies I was told and for the loss of everything stable in my life. I’ve left my house, my friends, my partner to come here and do this job.

And despite being told by colleagues at my level that I can talk to them, I’m feeling about as small as I possibly could. I’m told to call their personal numbers after hours, and that I should take this issue to X person. Then X person says it can wait three days.

So here I am, waiting for the days to pass, trying to go through the motions and wondering if anyone is going to notice my crying at my desk.

Because no one did this morning.

A Three Month Recap

Apr5

I had three goals this year, with six separate “ideas” to meet. I meant to post this on Tuesday, but the bank holiday and a car crash messed up my timing.

Here’s my progress so far!

1 :: Every ‘thing’ must ‘fit’ comfortably in my flat. If not, something’s got to go. Check every 3 months for “excess”.

This weekend was my first time returning to my old bedroom. I’ve brought a lot of my books with me, and so far I’ve got enough room for everything. However, the purging for this quarter needs to happen soon. I’ve got a lot of items in boxes for a car boot sale, and I need to work out when to go home and sell it all/ get rid of it.

2 :: [the focus for this quarter] Settling in, get meditating once a week. Write novel / draw / dance for an hour a week.

Writing as a whole has been fantastic. I’ve got another novel in the works, I’m editing Wings of Skell, and I’ve even started submitting short fiction to publications and made myself a website for my pen name.

Meditation has been sporadic, but it has happened. My Buddhist teacher came to see me in February and we sat in my living room meditating. I’ve also been doing some visualisations.

I’ve been drawing too, and I’m planning to pick up my dance practise in the next few weeks.

3 :: Editing food and exercise

This is my focus for the next three months.

4 :: Getting outside in nature

This is the focus for the summer-autumn months.

5 :: Read two books and at least one OBOD lesson a month

I’ve read EIGHT books. Well on track for my 26 this year, though I did fabulously last year with this until July, so trying to keep up the momentum.

I’ve not done anything on my OBOD stuff since December,

6 :: Watch 4 ‘factual’ programmes a month

I have not been counting this, and I don’t think I actually care about it any more. As long as I’m learning stuff, it doesn’t matter where it’s from.

How are your goals shaping up?

– Rose –

Shifting: A Sense of Stability

Mar19

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It’s March.

We’re nearly a quarter of the way through the year.

We finally have a new manager at work, the third group I’m running begins this week and I’m starting to get a sense of my routine.

This weekend I went home, contacted friends to arrange to hang out this week, got back into drawing, read an actual book, and even got as far as critiquing some pieces of other’s work.

Finally, I turned my attention back to my writing ‘career’ in the form of competitions and novel submission options.

Shifting

Throughout my adult life, I’ve flitted form one extreme to another; from each interest and obsession with ease. At University I attended two meditation societies, the circus club, a separate unicycling class and the rock music/pirate societies.

During my MSc, I volunteering in mental health, learning disability, social care and support work roles; worked in a café, cleaned toilets, taught Shivanata, wrote novels and gave tours to students.

Now I’m a Family Support Worker, and suddenly there’s only one thing to do each day. The job gives me some variety, but it’s not the same as having a few projects on the go at once.

I miss the stability my life had while I was constantly shifting.

Writing

In the last week, I’ve come home from work and thrown focus into writing and editing. I bought some Magic: the Gathering cards in the hope of getting back into that interest, and found myself looking at writing competitions.

With the interest sparked again, I don’t want to wait until November to submit my novel to the next competition.

Yet, the only other one has a deadline of NEXT WEEK.

That’s too soon, the voices in my mind said.

As I read the submissions, desperate to double-check that I couldn’t manage it, I found the passage I’d been wishing for:

“The novel does not need to be complete in order to be entered for the competition. It is acceptable to enter novels-in progress”.

I submitted a novel in September 2012. That was six months ago, and I need to keep the ball rolling, before the fear of rejection claims me. So last night, I printed it off and worked out the postage.
Over the weekend, I also focused on my literary CV – on getting “published credits.” Any competition I could win, or submission I might be paid for. The money didn’t matter – just the comment that I’ve been paid for my writing counts on my writing resume.

So I wrote my first piece of flash/micro fiction. Having read my first piece that morning, by 3pm I had four pieces ready for four competitions, and last night, I sent off the 4^th and 5^th pieces.

In the safety of shifting interests, I can keep my mind afloat.

And now all I need to do is wait for the next step to emerge.

How do you balance yourself in your interests?

Can you absorb yourself in one love, or do you switch around?

– Rose –

Learning on the Job

Mar12

Two months have passed. I’m finally on the new IT system, with a work laptop for hot-desking, and I’m due to get access to the database social workers use.

In the last month, I’ve had to deal with a lot of challenging and overwhelming situations, which I term as “blips” when I cannot cope with them. When I cry during the drive home, I’m clearly not in a space to adequately handle my emotions – making the commute dangerous. When I have to retreat to the bathroom because I’m so close to shouting and swearing and enraged, I’m aware that I’ve neglected my work duties in order to maintain my mental health.

I don’t see these blips as punishable actions, but as a less-than-desirable experience, that I put down to my new-ness.

Communication

When talking to my colleagues about these blips, I’m constantly told that it’s “not a blip, it’s just all new” or “it sounds like you did everything perfectly. You’ve clearly got the potential for this.”

It’s definitely a comfort that the issues I’m experiencing are things felt by the rest of the team in their own ways.

Last Wednesday, I spoke to the senior practitioner, and she asked what I needed to make the Tuesday course run smoother.

Having spent five hours looking after children who haven’t got boundaries or understanding of “no”, we then sit in a room and talk about the parent’s progress for what has lasted a further four and a half hours.

This second discussion is very emotional, and requires everyone’s input and views on each parent. I find out about their back-story, what the children I’m watching must have experienced; and without a break (we eat lunch with the families) it turns out I just cannot process all of my own thoughts and emotions.

After both of the Tuesday sessions we’ve run, I’ve had to leave early, cried while driving home, and texted my partner to come online early. Neither Tuesday could I eat dinner.

Managing Stress

In both cases, on the Wednesday morning, I’ve been able to talk to a colleague about it. But for that Tuesday night, I feel like a complete failure at my job. A week in, crying is allowed. The true realities of the job hit home. Two and a half months, though…

It doesn’t sit well that the crying hasn’t even decreased a little.

But I have my laptop now, so the senior practitioner talked about me writing my thoughts down quietly in the corner and she even suggested I completely disengage and switch off from listening until I’m ready to process the new information. I was glad to find out she agreed with my concerns – that the sessions aren’t structured and there’s no proper time-keeping.

And whenever I bring up a concern that I’m not handling things as I wish I were; I’m told that I’m doing everything right, that I’ve done so well to enter the team at this time, and that they’ve not felt this busy and struggled this much in years.

Creating Gaps

All I can do is take each day as it comes.

Today I know I’ll have to ask that child to pick up the toys about five hundred times. I know those two babies will cry and set each other off.

And I know that I need to take my laptop into the meeting following. I know that I need to go to the loo and grab my belongings before I sit down.

I’m learning that I need to create a break for myself; that I need a time to process when no one else provides a gap.

– Rose –

The Disappearance of Personality

Mar5

I’ve spoken before about my grandfather, and his Alzheimer’s Disease, but as with all stories, changes and new instalments occur.

Last I wrote, they were taking him off the Aricept. That was less than two months ago.

Last weekend, my parents saw him. He seemed well in general, until he asked after me, when he insisted he’d never been told that I have a partner.

He has met my other half several times over the last 6 years – but according to his brain, he had never heard of this, and asked what he’s like, and whether we would marry.

I wondered if he had forgotten my O.H because that little pathway is inaccessible.

But the fact that I’m with someone, might have stuck.

It seems not only has he forgotten the most important person in my life, but he’s forgetting more of me every day.

I cannot explain away that sadness.

My heart broke when I realised he will never know my future. Even if he lives long enough, he’ll never know my marriage, my children. And they would never know him.

Because he’s not just losing his memories of his family.

He’s losing himself.

I’ve talked before about my wish to be a scholar, and how in this topic I just can’t bring myself to understand the science of the disease.

Nevertheless, I told my mum he might have just had a bad day – that loss isn’t linear in this disease. That the protein build up on his neurons shifts every day, and that only specific neurons will have been affected.

But he used to have such a sense of honour, of loyalty; such a love and respect for education, and he used to get everyone out of their chairs to go for a walk, or play tennis, or croquet.

Hell, we played croquet less than six months ago, at his request!

It seems the man my mother had to sit beside knows none of those things.

From my understanding, he’s not supposed to lose his core identity only a year or two into a disease described as “early stages, slow moving”. Not two months after he’s been taken off the medication that only halted it for six months in the first place.

The loss of new events, the inability to find the right words to explain things and the personality differences don’t occur in stage 1.

Which means he’s shifted in stage 2 of a 3 stage process.

And the small child inside who remembers him bouncing me on his knee has realised:

I’ll never get him back.

A Year of Events

Feb19

The last two weeks have been highly emotional.

I began my first bit of lone work, co-working on a sexual abuse case, gave my professional opinion on whether a child should remain on a Child Protection plan and had to report a possible disclosure of domestic abuse to a social work manager.

But with pancakes, valentine’s day and talk of the upcoming spring and summer, work has been an enjoyable time. The topic of holidays and weekend activities is a large part of the morning discussions; and I realised I’ve got very little planned for this year. No holiday, no gigs and no festivals.

After noticing that some of my friends are building up a “Hawaii fund” or “Antarctica trip of a lifetime fund” I found myself wanting to plan for some nice events.

Since moving to Sussex, I’ve got back into my Druid practise, arranged to meet up with two friends and committed to attending the Brighton pub moots again.

However, that’s one event in six weeks. As a natural hermit who is now almost afraid of my own company, I want to set up some special one-off “holidays”.

A Bit of History

But thinking about what people generally do when they take time off work, my mind drew a blank. I had to think back to the reasons my parents took time off and the things I used to do in the school holidays.

One of the things my mum and I used to do was attend classical concerts run by the Kensington Philharmonic Orchestra, which her mother originally led in 1965. Especially with my grandfather’s Alzheimer’s, I’ve found myself missing that connection to my grandmother. He used to attend, and my mum and I would meet him there.

Then my mum’s eyesight deteriorated, my grandfather stopped attending, and I don’t remember the last time we went. I might have been about ten.

But the concerts are still going, and today I decided that now I drive, I could take the Monday morning off work and drive up there so mum and I could see them perform again. And if mum doesn’t want to go, maybe I’ll still do it anyway; taking myself to spend two hours with some connection to the grandmother I never knew.

What better way to connect with my heritage?

The Quest for Knowledge

In 2011, I decided to do all the things I’d never had the self-confidence to do before. I went to work in a café at a Buddhist festival, began Anger Management, got a summer job, attended lectures on Paganism at Witchfest International and began teaching Shivanata.

This year, I’m planning to go back to Witchfest and stay for the whole thing (or at least a good part of the evening). Now I’m not at university, and having been in education for 18 years, I want to keep some aspect of learning in my life.

This desire to keep learning also got me thinking about Buddhafield Festival. I worked at the café in the morning, and attended workshops in the afternoon/evenings. In one way, this was good as I had structure and got to make friends on my shift. It also meant I didn’t have huge amounts of time without anything to do. And of course, attending the festival was free in return for working.

However, I missed a lot of workshops because the shift was set, and I think I would be willing to pay if I had that freedom to just wander the stalls, wander round the fields and spend more time in the meditation dome.

But I don’t have a tent, and wouldn’t feel safe sleeping there on my own. Also the last day of Buddhafield sparked the ending of a friendship, and part of me still feels the risk of that overrides the good that I got out of it.

Writing Opportunities

This afternoon I was told about World Fantasy Convention 2013, being held just a few miles away in Brighton. As a fantasy writer, the idea of four days meeting other writers and publishers and attending talks on writing, strikes me as a pretty good time.

I’ve two completed manuscripts in the midst of editing, and by November, I may even have finished another draft piece.

I would need to check with work, and I’m going to email a query before committing, but it’s another way to connect with writing; a practise that sustains me. And that’s what this year is all about – finding ways to aim for the stars while staying balanced.

Balancing the Hermit

All this planning is wonderful, and I’m excited to begin taking charge of my own life without being dictated by school holidays or plans my parents have made without consulting me.

However, I’m an only child who needs her space. I know that I can turn into too much of a hermit, and so I’m trying to compensate; while making sure I don’t overwhelm myself.

So I have my eight druid festivals, the eleven pub moots, two possible nights of KPO and a festival, convention or pagan event of some form.

I’d say I can fit in another 2 major events without overwhelming my life; particularly in april, may and july.

But for now, I’m keeping the calendar open and trusting that my path will reveal itself.

– Rose –