How It Went, How It's Going...

My first day back to work was practically non-productive. I always feel a little guilty about non-productivity and in the back on my mind this was gnawing away at me. I was stopped so many times from staff and clients alike, just to talk and reconnect, which was truly delightful, but part of me kept thinking "you are getting paid for these hours and look at how you are spending them." I voiced this to my supervisor and she laughed it off and I felt a little better.

But you know me. The motto "work makes free" is just in there, in my DNA or something, and I walked around feeling very happy and a little guilty at the same time. I had to keep in mind that this is part of the nature of this industry I belong to, one that involves a whole lot of talking to begin with.

And how nice it is to feel like I belong to something, belong to an industry, again. We all fantasize about winning the lottery, or having some other magic fall on us that would allow us to not work for a year, a decade, or forever. But this work stuff is what keeps so many people going. It was a huge part of my life in the past and the year that I missed working was certainly the worst ever. Not just because of the not working part-but the not working part really made it suck that much more.

So to be back-well, it is really the most incredible feeling ever. I rememeber right after Rob died, aside from the shock and awe that descended upon me over losing my soulmate, I remember just wanting to be back with everyone that I loved so dearly at work. There was so much craziness swirling around in my head that I'm not afraid to talk about it now.

My mind was mostly on cruise control and I would hear the voices of some of the people I worked most closely and best with and sort of imagined, in a very passive way, what they would say to me if we were face-to-face. I really believe they would've said these things and highly suspect that they were thinking these things and I was just picking it up in an intuitive way.

The above paragraph is either very psychotic or right on the money. Either way, it helped. Perhaps it was real or perhaps it was some kind of survival mechanism but it helped me survive.

When I studied mental health in nursing school, I was captivated. I wanted to be right in the middle of that science. However, I had very traditional views about how one's nursing career should progress-with the requisite minimum 5 years on a med-surg floor, followed by the some acute psychiatric experience, THEN outpatient when I was closer to retirement.

As I've said before, certain life events were breathing down my neck which were mandating that I slow it down a bit, strive for the 9 to 5, and enjoy my holidays with my family. Coming to CBH was probably one of the BEST decisions that I have ever made. Besides the perks of weekends and holidays off, I found there the most supportive group of people that I have ever worked with. Listen, the pay is NOT top-dollar but for me it's a salary I can live on and the flexibility to take care of my family is there.

Most importantly, I believe in what I do. Sure, sad and tragic things happen to people. When you are in the business of helping people, you are going to see some sad shit. But it is nothing like the sad shit that happens in the hospital, where things happened that really shouldn't have and I felt sick about it for days, months, weeks...and even up until this present day.

But I digress. I will blame the 2005 Bordeaux that I am enjoying tonight...

I suppose is that what I am getting at is, I have been preparing for this week all year long and it has been so rewarding to come back. I gave a few injections today and did find that it was a lot like riding a bicycle. Somehow it just comes back to you. And I did find, to my delight, that it still feels like I was born to do this work.

I look forward to a few weeks passing by, and people just being used to seeing me again so it's not a big deal anymore. I look forward to blending in with the woodwork again and just being another cog in a great machine that I am happy to be a part of. I'm not very comfortable with being front and center, but I happily endured it because I am so glad to be back.

I really never wanted to be gone in the first place. I cried my eyes out when I gave notice. If Rob didn't die, I'm sure I would've missed this place and just moved on in a fairly smooth fashion because we would've had each other and we would've been fine. However, my husband did die and things were so crappy down in Florida without him. I needed to reclaim something that was MINE, namely my career. Without my career I am lost, I am sort of a crappy mom and homemaker and I'm not ashamed to admit it.

So thank you, Workplace for taking me back. This week, as minimally "productive" as it has been, was a most magical and uplifting experience. I feel useful and productive again. I feel like I am part of something larger than myself again. I will strive to give back to you what you have given to me.

And that's really something that can't be measured at all...

The Final Hours of the Long Hiatus

Before diving in to what the title of this entry suggests what it should be about, I think a quick recap of the process of the return home is in order. All-in-all, it was sort of painless in some ways and complete and total torture in others. I'd rather not get into the torture part because that's best left behind.

What worked best for us this past year was summed up very nicely through the way in which the move itself was made possible-good people in our corner. It literally took a village to get us home. Between the packing, the loading, the driving, the plane flights, and the countless good wishes that were granted to us-well, I'm not sure how it would've all worked out. To those of you who were able to help with the nitty-gritty side of things-thank you. As I see it, you made a sacrifice for the well-being of this family and it will never be forgotten. To the even larger group of people who offered unlimited support, phone calls, encouragement, text messages, prayers, emails, and just plain old good vibes-without you I really don't know how I would've discovered the will to not fall apart completely.

In time, I am sure I will devote a lot of space to really sharing more of what my life was like as I stumbled through August of 2007 to August of 2008. Looking at these words, I cannot fathom that it was just one year. It was a year that felt like a decade. Nearly every single day felt like a week. Every hour was a day in itself. Time felt like it was moving so slowly, but not in the way that you would hope for. More like in the way you might feel trapped in quicksand and waiting for help.

***

Tomorrow, I return to work. I have no idea how productive I will actually be tomorrow, but my foot will be back in the door. I expect to be non-productive, possibly even counter-productive. Ha ha.

These final hours are a bit bittersweet. Although the reason for my long absence from work is a sad one indeed, there was a freedom in not working that wasn't half-bad. Mostly it made me really, really crazy.

I look forward to picking up where I left off. My work environment, physically, is less than stellar. The building is old. The microwave is always dirty. Sometimes there are interesting insects sharing our space. The computers are slow. Some of the places I have to visit are downright creepy.

For some reason that might be hard to really convey in light of the cons, it's best job I've ever had. It's in the field that I knew I wanted way back in nursing school on the very first day I sat in my psychiatric nursing class. This is the way I know best how to be a nurse and be fully myself, to be the things I like most about myself, to bring about the most effective treatment possible, and to work with people that I hold dear-both staff and clients alike.

And it's just a good night's sleep away from this moment.