A Good Decision

A good decision

My workplace has granted me 6 months of leave from March till September 2013.  Three weeks ago, at the beginning of my leave, I was unsure of whether I had made a right decision.  Three weeks later, now I feel that I have done something good.  Something good for my own physical and mental well-being.

Regrettably, the decision had to do with the results of my symptoms of burnout and depression. 

I was unable to find out the cause of the two symptoms.  As early as 2010, I began my anguish.

The book “Fried” by Jonis B (2011) is an enlightening read.  I just read it in March 2013.  Better late than never to be made aware.  “Fried” describes the symptoms of burnout and the description fitted my symptoms to a T.

Motivation

I have worked hard all my life.  The strong work ethic is imbued in me by my grandmother and father since I was a child. As far as I could remember, my father worked like a “lembu” (“cattle” in the Malay Language) every day, even on weekends. As a laboratory technician, he was responsible for carrying out tests for set pathogens.  The test results were important for further medical diagnosis.  Even at weekends, he would be at the hospital laboratory to complete the required tests for the patients.  He always told me - why delay the test results when they were needful.  My late grandmother was a task-oriented lady who insisted on adhering to the highest standards for ordinary housekeeping.

Through the two decades of hard work and high motivation, I achieved promotions and recognition.  I was a high achiever at my workplace.  Up till 2010 when I faced a downward change.

A vicious cycle

In early 2010, I changed my workplace and I believed that I had to prove myself.  I was under a lot of pressure to perform in my new job.  Thinking back, the perfectionist streak and the pessimist freak in me did not help to ease the mental burden.  My body told me of the burden but I did not pay attention to the physical symptoms.

I had a persistent cough which lasted almost 3 months then.  My body was unusually weak that time and I wrongly attributed the weakness to the spread of drug-resistant germs (the SARs and the H1N1).  The cough was hackling and it kept me awake at night.  As a result, I was not having enough sleep.  At the same time, my body felt cold all the time.  I had to wear thick jackets whenever I attend meetings in air-conditioned rooms.  My doctor suspected that I had thyroid problems. She did blood tests and did not find any unusual markers.  My stomach felt hard and bloated and I checked myself in for a gastro-endocrinologist appointment. As part of the check up, I had to endure a colon scope.  During the scope, I was drugged under general anaesthesia and a tube explored my stomach.  After a month, the doctor met me and told me reassuringly, I did not have growths in my stomach.  My stomach was well. 

But I was not well in another part of my body.  My brain told me that it was tired.

I had not yet recovered my body strength.  The lack of sleep was a big cause for my lack of energy.  I was worried about how I would do well in my new job.  The first part of the year was very important as it sets the tone at work.  I could not set any tone or hum.  At the same time, the clients whom I worked with were unusually difficult and they demanded a lot.  Due to my prolonged absence medically, I received a number of complaints.  Coincidentally, my own boss was undergoing some difficult situation at her home and was not sympathetic.  My father was not feeling well at that time too.  I was worried about him.  It was a vicious cycle.  A downward spiral for me.

Life has its ups and downs.  I was dealt with a down, down time.  I wished that there was a hole that I could jump in to hide from the overwhelming pressures.

I lost my motivation. 

I felt lousy about myself and what I did – what good would it do that I prepare the most wonderful proposal and what does it matter to anyone?  What was I doing?  What a waste of time! I began to hate what I do.  I felt guilty because work took me away from the most important person in my life – my father.  My father’s heart was failing and I thought he would die.  I felt that I did not spend enough time with him given my workaholic nature in the past years. 

In truth, now that I am feeling better, I forgot that I did spend time with my father.  More than anyone else in the family.  Almost every day – at the kitchen table, we would talk about the daily happenings in my office and his thought of the events in our country and around the world.  We had breakfasts together at weekends.  My holidays were spent with him and my mother in tours.  We have done his favourites in England and China.  If he could do it, we would have travelled to America. 

More to come

My downward spiral continued for another 2 years.  My burnout led to my depression. 

Life dealt my father its hardest blow.  In January 2011, my father was brought down by a bleed in his brain resulting in a crippling stroke.  My father was paralysed and his chronic problems set in drastically – diabetes, high blood pressure and kidney failure set in.  His condition had been described by doctors as moribund.  Even the sound of the word is depressing. 

As his main caregiver, I gave my father the best of my job training (another story here) and left not much energy to daily work at office.  My performance in my office dived and my bosses were not that sympathetic. There were some suggestions that I seek psychiatric help; these were half-hearted.  It seemed that my bosses were more interested to get the department work done rather than look after my well-being.  And why should they, I thought?  Bosses look after work, not their employee’s right? 

My assumption is wrong.  Our bosses have a big part in our motivation.  They are responsible for staff motivation.  This area is expounded in the book “How full is your bucket?” by Tom Rath and Donald Clifton.

 

Luckily I had a good set of friends who saw that I was suffering and took time to give counsel.  Without their help, I would be too devastated to pick myself up.

Luckily, I had a spiritual anchor – my Christian belief that my Lord would not leave me alone or give me more than I could bear.

 

My personal aftermath has not ended.  At times the negative feelings reared its ugly head and make me numb.  I find ways to de-“press” the negative thoughts and “press” up the positive feelings. 

I also made another choice. Unthinkable of a workaholic – take a break.  I made a conscious choice – I need a break.

Writing my thoughts helps in my mental recovery.  Hence this blog.