Getting Back to Work.
It’s been 8 months since I started my leave last summer, and with 2 months to go, I’ve turned my attention more seriously to what is next (although I’ve been thinking about it constantly since October, I won’t lie). And I’m finally getting some clarity after months of indecision and anguish.
This has probably been the hardest decision of my life, actually. For some reason, most of my previous big life decisions have been mostly pretty clear. I knew what I wanted and what I needed to do. But this one has been complicated, and I just haven’t been able to think my way through it. Lord knows, I’ve tried.
I took my leave last summer knowing that I needed a break from my job at Queen’s, where I had been working for the last 8 years. I’ve written about this part before, but I had reached a point of burnout, especially after the last 2 years working close to full-time as team lead. The work itself has been very rewarding for many reasons, but there have been a few challenges for me specifically with my mental health (namely anxiety and episodes of depression) that made it more taxing, and lead to me needing to take a break (which I was lucky enough to be able to do).
At the time, I didn’t really know what would come of it. I just knew I needed to change things up. So I did, in a big way. After a summer working on the cabin, on retreat, and doing some cooking, I’ve spent the last 6 months in Chef School at SLC in Kingston – and it has been just what the doctor ordered. A change of scenery and focus, new skills, new ideas, new friends, and a whole new world.
And what started as just a break, started to take on more meaning and weight. I began to entertain the idea that this could actually be a good fit for me in the long term. There are so many things about cooking that I love – the immediacy, the physicality of it, working with food, being a part of a team, the excitement, the learning involved. So I dove in farther, learning in my classes, practicing in my labs, and even allowing myself to imagine an alternative future.
But the whole time, I felt torn. There was this persistent feeling of stuckness. Not being able to let go of my work in counselling, even though it felt so good to be doing something new. And so I’d oscillate between the two opposite worlds of counselling and cooking, leaning this way and that, never ready to go to one side or the other.
But as a good career counsellor would advise, I explored possibilities. Kept my options open, and let myself imagine different possible futures. Continued to reflect on what I was experiencing, and talked things through with different folks. I even networked my way into a job interview, did a trial shift at a local restaurant, and got a job offer.
Which, oddly, is when I finally got some clarity. That offer somehow gave me permission to consider my work at Queen’s in a new light. Instead of feeling stuck in a situation where I was struggling, it was now a choice. I was free to go to the new place, but because of that, I could finally consider my work for all it had to offer. Which is a lot. I have a supportive supervisor, great colleagues, a chance for meaningful connection with engaged clients, an established network and credibility, and a dynamic workplace and innovative projects.
One of the things that made this decision more complex is the mental health component of things. I recently read a great book from CERIC about how career development can contribute to mental health – a fascinating read professionally and personally. A key point though, is that they separate mental health from mental illness, and instead of putting them on two ends of a spectrum, put them on two intersecting axes (the plural of axis, I checked). So while you can have mental illness, you can ALSO have mental health – which consists of positive, life enhancing factors, qualities, and behaviours. And mental health factors, can make dealing with mental illness easier.
I’ve noticed a trend in myself (and many humans it seems), to tend to project my struggles outward onto my environment. So over time, I tend to see my situation as causing my suffering, instead of it being internal to myself. So imagine then, working for eight years somewhere and feeling increasing anxiety and depression over that time – seems natural to want to pin it on the workplace. But since having the break, I get to see that it’s not only from the workplace. Because even when I’m NOT there, I still have to contend with anxiety and depression – albeit, not as extreme. So there is a clue for me in that – the work matters, but the maxim holds “Wherever you go, there you are.”
And in all this experiencing and reflecting, I’m starting to see a way forward. I’m grateful to be working with my employer to put accommodations in place to make my worklife more workable for all parties. To be able to accommodate my social anxiety and depression in such a way that doesn’t lead to burnout. I’m hoping that a relatively simple tweak of reduced hours and workshops will do the trick and not have too much of an impact on operations.
But here is where the idea of Getting Back to Work comes in to its other meaning (there’s always another meaning with me). The internal side of things. As much as the environment matters, I need to be careful not to take my mental health for granted. Just like physical health demands some attention and maintenance (more for some than others), so too does my mental health. I need to do things to keep mentally fit. I know I can be inclined to waste time on my phone playing games, ruminate, or avoid anxiety inducing situations. But this vicious cycle can lead to worse mental health for me. So I need to do the work.
For me the work can include a lot of things. Simple self-care like meditation, journalling, exercise, eating well. Digital hygiene like limiting screen time (including disabling apps like Facebook on my phone, or setting my phone to black and white mode to make it more boring to look at). Psychology homework like independent study about burnout, stress, and trauma, doing regular CBT exercises, seeing a therapist, and considering medication when appropriate. And social activity, connecting, reaching out, and taking social risks. Going outside. Gardening. Cooking. All of those things that look like living a good life to me.
It’s kind of funny/sad, but if I told people I had a heart condition and that was why I needed to take a year off to rest and recover – it would just be so much easier to talk about. But when it is something like burnout, stress, and mental illness – there is this layer of shame to it all for me. Even writing this, I’m still a bit afraid to share these things (although I’ve shared things in the past and found it to be mutually beneficial). Intellectually, I know that mental health struggles are common place. And that it is possible to have mental illness and still be a successful and valued member of society. But that doesn’t make it not scary to admit to it. Probably also means it is worth talking about it.
So? I’m feeling somewhat optimistic. I’ve just finished reading a great book called How to Be Yourself, about social anxiety, and am launching into a new one on stress and trauma called Widen the Window that looks equally amazing. And I’m starting to be able to see ideas about the next chapter of my life. When I’ve not had this hopeful story going on this past year, I’ve really struggled to carry on. And when I have had a story I could believe in, it has made a huge difference.
I’ve learned a lot about food this past year – and I’ve probably learned even more about myself. But, even though my next job isn’t going to be as a cook, I know there is a lot I’ve gained from my time at SLC. I know my cooking skills have improved, as has my bravery in the kitchen. And who knows where those skills might come to play in the future – maybe a B&B, food system development, volunteering at Martha’s Table, or just keeping Carlyn happy and well fed.
Ironically, all this turmoil and gradual resettling and clarification has been not just personally useful, but professionally so as well. It has renewed my belief in the importance of career development, direction, and purpose. And refreshed my empathy for others finding their way through their own career journeys. And it’s gotten me back to the point where I’m not doing this work because I feel like I have to. It’s because I want to. And that is something I want for others too.
K. Miguel Hahn 