First Note: This isn’t actually the first blog entry I’ve written since my last post, I have several unfinished posts saved in draft mode that I plan on finishing at another time. I also have a couple posts that are finished, but they are… well, very, very angry. I decided I didn’t need to word-vomit my extreme vitriol onto the web quite so early in this blogging endeavor (if ever).
Due to a few awful experiences/events, I was somewhat forced to take a step back and take a hard look at how I was living my life.
To my dismay, the way I was
living surviving was pretty horrible – and definitely not sustainable. I was on a steep downward spiral and if I didn’t take action – drastic action – I was going to crash and burn so hard there was a good possibility I wouldn’t be able to bounce back from it.
I wasn’t taking care of myself, which was what prompted the appointment with Dr. Fuckwad that I mentioned, and it was that disaster of an appointment that made me see exactly how terrible things had become.
I’m a workaholic who derives 90% of my self-worth on the quality and success of my performance at work, so I was attempting to avoid the inevitable truth: I needed to put my “house” in order and I couldn’t do that while working full-time. Dr. Scrapper (my shrink) and Dr. Empathy (my therapist) had both mentioned a medical leave as a viable option, but I wasn’t convinced it was the best course of action for me. I thought that it would only look worse in the eyes of my supervisor, someone from whom I had already lost massive amounts of trust and respect, and whom I did not want to disappoint any more than I already had.
However, I soon learned that my poor performance as of late was even worse than I had thought, and it was to my severe detriment that I avoided inquiring about medical leave.
I was called in for a meeting by Ditzface (my Equal Opportunity/ADA Compliance officer) and Overloaded (my HR rep), who informed me that if I didn’t take at least intermittent leave (and soon), I was going to be fucking fired and would need to avoid having the door hit me on the way out (obviously not those exact words). Encouraged by this meeting, I made an appointment with Dr. Extraordinary (my primary care physician).
Side note: When I say “encouraged,” I actually mean “scared shitless.” Not only do I base much of my self-worth on my work, but I’m also the primary breadwinner for our family. Not to mention that we would not be able to afford my medical treatments and prescriptions without the incredible insurance policy we currently have – a policy that we couldn’t even begin to afford if I were to lose my job.
Dr. Extraordinary came to the rescue (she usually does) and spoke to me all of 5 minutes before she asked why I hadn’t come to her sooner about a medical leave/short term disability. I hadn’t even mentioned the idea to her yet. That’s either how awesome she is, or how awful I was doing.
But that is how I am into my third week of medical leave.
The first two weeks ended up being completely useless thanks to Dr. Fuckwad and my coming down with the flu — but I just had another appointment with Dr. Extraordinary and she wants me to take another 2 weeks of leave because I just haven’t made the kind of progress I need to make if I’m going to return to work on a full-time basis.
Seriously, I love her.
Lesson of the day? FUCKING TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF and if you have the opportunity and support to take some time away from work in order to do that — THEN TAKE THAT OPPORTUNITY. Don’t be a blathering idiot like I was. Just do it.
Final Note: This entry is pretty boring. Sorry. I’m not always exciting. Hell, I’m rarely exciting. I’ll try to be more interesting next time. And there will definitely be a next time.