I started typing this on Facebook in an attempt to write from the heart, but as I was typing it dawned on me that Facebook is not the place to do that. So I transposed it to my blog instead. I definitely don’t want to be the friend that whines on Facebook about all their personal shit. Eww.
The last few months have been really challenging for me. Like the kind of challenging that serves the potential to send a girl right into a third-life crisis. Mostly, though, the last few months have been a step in the right direction. Perhaps this will be an evolving point for my blog… My life.?
Between my changing job status, health issues and other grown-up BS… (blah, for being an adult…) my stress level has been somewhere close to Britney’s in 2007. Leaving work and going back to school was scary considering how much of myself I had committed to my career. I had resigned myself to never going back for my BSW or Master’s because I was certain I could not juggle the workload, family, and school and still remain sane and minimally grumpy. I was ok with being a Substance Abuse Counselor for the rest of my career and getting paid less than I was worth. I was okay with this because I honestly loved my job. I met incredible people, learned a lot and confirmed my love of the helping profession. Counseling, on its best days invigorates me, draws me in and inspires me to be a better person. I valued my work so much it started to become a huge part of my identity.
When I left my job in December it was a leap of faith and the safety net was woven a bit loosely for my standards. For months I had toyed with quitting my job and working toward my Master’s Degree. It seemed a bit unrealistic, as we had carefully crafted a two-income lifestyle that in my head resembled a Jenga tower. Quitting my job felt a lot like pulling the blocks out of the tower. Suddenly I was changing gears and was back to being a stay-at-home mom/student.
Since I quit work I’ve started to solve some of my health issues. I found a Doctor who heard my complaints and actually listened, rather than throwing another prescription drug at me. After some blood tests, it is “Probable” that I have Celiac disease. I have more testing to come, but I have already started to explore this new lifestyle. When I tell people about my new health findings I often get a look that reminds me of the face people make when you tell them you recently lost a close family member. (I understand because that was me a few months ago.) I am frankly excited for the change, as it brings the faint glimmer of hope for less misery, fatigue, and general malaise.
Some days I feel like I’m failing at adulting. My J.O.B. is gone and my J.O.B. was who I had become. One of my classes required me to post a video recording to introduce myself. I realized I spent my entire introduction talking about my career, and only briefly mentioned who I was outside of work. In my family we value hard work highly, and while I am happy that kind of work-ethic was instilled into me from a young age, now I am learning to balance my work-ethic and self-care.
Since I walked away from work I have had more energy, felt less irritable, and have started to pursue my own personal growth, something I had exchanged for a full time job. I’ve spent more time in my kids’ classrooms and bedtime snuggles have seemed less like a chore and more like a privilege. I’m gradually building my small jewelry business and maintaining consistency so that this doesn’t end up as another forgotten hobby. My days are less about the grind of having a lot of things, working, and paying the bills and more about enjoying the moments. Problems that have arisen I have had the time to address and resolve rather than hide from and pretend they don’t exist.
So here is to my thirties, where I am choosing to live my life less about things and more about the people and ideas that I love. Here is to living life with intention, spending with intention, learning a new way of eating, exploring new facets of myself and my family that I was missing. May this also serve as a reminder to myself that when my degree is done and I go back into the field that I not lose my identity to my career. Self-care is not optional.
xoxo-Hillary