A couple of things about this post: I believe in self-care. It is an integral part of anyone's life, especially those who give themselves to others personally or professionally. This post is more about how the concept of self-care became weaponized in my life for years. The term "self-care" makes me cringe because of what I experienced. That does not diminish the importance of taking care of yourself. This post is more about resentment that I still carry on some level. The fact that I react simply to the words "self-care" tells me I have yet to release this resentment. 
 
 I saw this meme posted on Facebook a couple of different times. It surprised me that my visceral reaction to even seeing the words "self-care" is still present despite almost two years passing since I had the concept used against me. One of the more challenging parts of recovery for me is letting go, especially when I feel like I have been wronged. I remember that first year of recovery; I felt that almost everyone and everything had done me wrong at some point or another. I was literally mad at everything. Over time, I understood that resentments were driving that behavior, and if I wanted to stay sober, I would have to find a way to come to terms with my anger. 
 
 In school right now, I am taking a course in leadership. While I don't have a particular interest in being in a leadership/management position in the future, it reminds me of what I need in a supervisor/manager to succeed. Those needs had changed over the years and definitely changed when I moved from nursing to counseling. Now that I am back in nursing and with years of experience, I think of leadership differently. I could see myself as a leader and would want to model myself after the core tenets of nursing: compassion, care, and advocacy. Even if I don't want to supervise people, I can model behavior that exemplifies those virtues.
 
 I had a variety of supervisors during my time in counseling. I had one who was very hands-off and told me that I was smart and to let her know if I needed anything. She was so swamped that even if I did need something, I had to wait in line. I opted to talk with my co-workers; however, we were all pretty new to the practice, and it was not the type of support I needed to be successful. The next supervisor was a micro-manager. I'm not too fond of that extreme either. It was so severe that I found a camera in my office that was placed behind a bookshelf. She recorded my sessions and provided very specific criticisms of what word I used in a particular part of my assessment and compared everything with my notes to "see if you were making up anything there." She also had all of our emails blind cc:ed to her so that I was emailing asking about what time my co-workers and I were going to lunch, and she would deduct that from our time. I have never been in a situation like that.
 
 The job I stayed in the longest had many supervisors and managers. Because our department intersected with many other teams, it felt like I had 4-6 people I answered to, and I would have to change the way I presented something based on who was in the room. One of the things that I had to fight myself for in recovery is being OK with the authentic me. I was already second-guessing myself, being relatively new to the field, spending time trying to figure out what "Julie" to be in what meeting was exhausting. It brought me back to obsessing over how every interaction went and what I did wrong. I needed to be worried about advocating for my client, not about whether I was making someone mad by not perfectly saying something. 
 
 About a year or two in, the "self-care kick" started at my job. It was very evident that many of us were burned out. We were down on staff members for about two years, and our caseloads were huge. Not to mention, we were constantly under a microscope for having long waitlists for services. So, every staffing meeting, every supervision appointment, I would be asked, "what are you doing for self-care." When I would say, I didn't really know. The response was quite shocking. "Why don't you know??" Well, I am barely getting through the day, so thinking about doing something for myself that requires any amount of energy is overwhelming. 
 
 Day after day, as my physical and mental health was falling apart, I was put in a position where I "needed to do more self-care." I was obviously "not able to care" for myself adequately. I was asked what was so hard about knowing what I needed to feel better. I started to believe that I genuinely didn't know myself well enough to do the right thing. I was "failing." If I just learned how to do self-care correctly, I would be fine. The stress of the job was not the problem - it was me. My family of co-workers was always telling me this wasn't true. On some level, I knew that, but when people in authority are constantly bombarding me with the same criticism week over week, how can someone not start to believe it? I have a strong desire to please other people to a fault sometimes. So the people I wanted to be impressed with my abilities were hyper-focused on self-care and what I was personally doing wrong. It wasn't easy to see the situation any other way.
 
 Over time, I became paralyzed. The sheer fact that I was getting out of bed and taking a shower off of work was the best I could do. Did you know that getting out of bed and taking a shower is self-care? It is for me because I feel better. I went on vacation. I went on crafting retreats. I spent time with my family and friend. While that was probably technically self-care, it was not going to change the fact that I was burned out. No amount of "self-care" was going to change the fact that I was so overwhelmed and upset about my job that I couldn't even manage to get out of bed. Well, guess what happens when I don't get out of bed? No dishes get done. No laundry gets done. No grocery shopping gets done. The tasks of my personal life pile up, causing even more stress. 
 
 What thing I still do to this day for self-care is therapy. Therapy was one of the few things that kept me from relapsing and helped me get through the last year of that job. I talked with my therapist about whether or not self-care could be used as a weapon. He said he imagined it could be. What I was clearly explaining was exactly that. Self-care had been used against me to blame me for my level of stress. He was actually saddened that this had happened. He could see the resentment building and would see my reaction if he used the word self-care. Two years later, he still avoids that term because it changes my composure. Until I am ready to work through or let go of those things that happened, I will continue to have that response. Honestly, this meme felt like the world understood me on this point. In reading the responses by others, I thought, yeah, most of what was going on was not an issue of self-care. It was a result of unrealistic expectations and burnout. 
 
 I have learned a valuable lesson from all of that. One, I know what I need in a manager/supervisor. Where I am at right now is honestly pretty perfect for me. I know my job. I know what I need to do. If there is a problem, I know exactly where to go, and if I seek help, I will be respected for my observations. There is a respect that I get as a nurse that I failed to get from my counselor career from the people that oversaw my work. I was berated frequently, questioned about my abilities, and often cut off at the knees when trying to do what I thought was right. Worst of all for me, my integrity was questioned. I hadn't had that happen before. There are times when I didn't do things right, but I made my decision with the information I had and what I thought was best. 
 
 The other lesson learned - what self-care really is. Self-care is not a $1,000 trip to the Bahamas to recharge (although that would be nice). Self-care is different for everyone. For me, it's keeping on top of my homework and housework. It is making sure I have healthy food around my house. It is making sure that I don't start berating myself for taking a day to do nothing. Some days it is still getting out of bed and taking a shower. Other days it is talking to someone on the phone. Each day's self-care looks different to me. I have found, though, when I pursue my passions, that is part of self-care to me. There is a certain pressure that I enjoy, as strange as it sounds. Maybe counseling would have been more of a passion had I been in a different environment. However, the way I feel in nursing is more fulfilling to me. Nothing wrong with that. I can think of several other areas I have worked in that I didn't care for, but the experience offered me something that got me to where I am today. As resentful as I am can be about my experience, I learned something. It brought into focus that which is most important to me.
 
 Take care all,
 ​Julie

Image by Pexels from Pixabay ​

​One of my least favorite questions, when I am interviewing, is: "Where do you see yourself in five years?" Honestly? I barely know what day of the week it is right now. Thinking out more than about six months is difficult enough. The lack of knowing what I see myself doing is nothing new. Whether I was in active addiction or recovery, that answer has not come clearly to me. 

For most of my life, I have tended to live in the past and not so much in the future. There are things I was certainly excited about things like college, moving to the big city, etc. I tended to carry the baggage of the past with me, though, and to some degree, I tend to do that today. I wouldn't say that I find myself in a place of regret necessarily. I feel more than the self-limiting beliefs and fears stick around when I think about planning or changing something in my life. I wonder if I will succeed. I wonder if "this is it", "it" being the answer to the elusive question - What do I want to do with my life? Many times, I have the immediate goal of changing something without much an idea in my mind of how things will look once the change is complete. 

I am now in my last quarter of school. This quarter has been challenging, and I really hope that I can make it. One of my classes is not going as well as I hoped it would. I have time to make things better and will likely do OK. I just have this nagging feeling that I might not pass. Of all the schooling I have completed, this is the program I avoided because I feared that I wouldn't pass. I feared I would work really hard and still not make it. To date, I have done very well, so the likelihood of me failing at this point is slim as long as I am strategic about my studies. 

That being said, my therapist once told me that I need to have things to look forward to in my life. For me, that has been meeting up with friends and traveling. What I have missed the most with Covid has been the time with my family and going on crafting retreats. These are the top activities to recharge myself and find the next goal to chase after. I started thinking about what I was going to do when school was done. These two years of my life have flown by so quickly, I almost can't believe that I am here - almost done. I think about the reasons I went back to school. I wanted my RN and felt that I could follow my passions for mental health and addiction recovery as a nurse. That may still be in the cards; however, I am not so sure anymore.

One of the things I loved about nursing school the first time around was being put in a clinical setting and finding all this passion and desire. "Oh my gosh, I want to do this...." Next semester, "nevermind, I am going to this!" I changed my mind about 100 times as I was going through that program. No way did I ever imagine that I would land in transplant, which has been, by far, the coolest of all my nursing jobs. This time around, the clinical experience went online, and we talked about many different avenues. It was a little easier to think about what I didn't want to do than it was about what I wanted to do. Yes, going back to nursing was an excellent decision. I belong here. When I throw on my scrubs, I feel capable, intelligent, and ready to do my job. In no other career path has this feeling been apparent like it is with nursing. 

Earlier this year, I was looking for a job. I needed a flexible schedule and wanted to get back into some hands-on nursing. It had been a good 12-13 years since I did all that technical nursing. I started working with clients 1:1 in the home. I wasn't as excited about the job. I knew I would be able to do it. I would be able to manage the hours well. "I'll give it a year and see." For the first several months, I was plagued with self-doubt. I didn't feel like I was doing a good job. I would be holding my breath going in for the next shift, thinking I did something wrong or simply didn't do something well. In general, I don't like starting new jobs. That learning curve drives me nuts, and I want to be "good" right away. 

Since July, my feelings have really changed about this job. I am content. I really like it. I am surprised I like it so much. After I felt comfortable with my assignments and was able to talk with folks about how I was doing, everything just sort of clicked. I honestly didn't have a specific plan coming out of school. I was going to play it by ear and see what opportunities are out there. Of course, I also need to finish school and pass the boards. More and more often, I am asked, "what's next?" 

The Plan: For the first six months after school, I am going to have fun. Period. I am going to continue to work where I am at. I am going to register for at least 2 crafting retreats. I am going to take my niece and nephew on a trip each. I am going to hang out with my family and friends. I am going to finish the painting at home. I am going to refinance my house and complete some other renovations. I am going to volunteer (more to come on this....). I think back to one of my motivations for returning to school. I want to earn more money, have less stress, work less, and get back to my life. In previous blogs, I talk about 2012 being "the year". When I am asked what a good year looked like, that was it. I worked 13 days a month, spent boat-loads of time with my family. I was organized. I was hopeful. I was good at my job. I hung out with friends all the time. I used to think what I liked about my work was that I had a specific set of tasks, I did my thing, and I went home. Yes, that is part of it. What I liked the most is that in a given month, I was there less often than not. I had more days off than on. It gave me the freedom to do a million other things I liked to do when I wasn't there. That is what I missed. No 40 hours a week, week after week. It was 32-36 hours jammed into 7 days with 7 days off. 

This time around, it is not about the prestigious job or the most dollars per hour. It's not about the name of the place. It's about truly going back to the life/work balance I used to have. It's about having the right schedule for me. It's about having weekdays off and working nights. It's about earning enough money for the bills and using the remainder to play. Of course, I like to be proud of my work. And I am proud of what I do. My clients teach me a lot, and I am honored they feel comfortable placing their care in my hands. I got lost for a while thinking about what others would think about "my success." What I am learning is that regardless of my job, I am a nurse, and that is what I am most proud of. Even during the years of counseling work, nursing remained my passion. In fact, my boss's boss heard me answer the question about where I was going after putting in my notice. I said, "I am going back to nursing." His response? "You never left. You are just going back home." And nursing does feel like home for me.

So, I am doing this crazy 40 hours a week of school, 16-20 hours of work a week, I drive almost 1,000 miles a week to get everything done. I am the happiest I have ever been. I am stressed with school, but not an unhealthy stress. It's the stress I need to get things done. Work is great. I had to reduce my hours, and I am missing work. I looked at my January schedule to see all these days I am NOT working, thinking about how to plug that time with the things I love. I will have the needed income to take care of the bills so there will not be working three jobs to make ends meet. I am in the pursuit of personal exploration about a new passion that has developed since starting school. Yes, I realize I am being vague here. It's just something I want to be really sure about before going "public," so to speak. 

I tell people often that I have to care for my recovery first and foremost because, without it, I have nothing. For the past two years, my recovery has thrived in ways I was not expecting. I may still pursue a position in nursing that deals with addiction recovery and/or mental health. At this time, stepping away from combining my career and recovery seems to have been the best move for me. I still contend that I have a calling in recovery. I still don't know exactly what it is. I think about advocacy and education. I want to be the voice for recovery. I don't exactly know what this looks like. Some day I will figure it out. In the meantime, I have talked about my experiences with my fellow students and offered some insights when we talk about addiction and mental health in our classes. I remain very passionate about recovery and connecting people to recovery. 

Lastly, I want to write more. I would like to write my story. Personally, I don't find my story all that interesting compared to some of the other stories of those in recovery. However, I have been told on multiple occasions that my story has power. I am honest about the depth of sorrow and despair I experience. I am honest that my early recovery was plagued with anger, rage, and a deep sense of self-hatred. I openly talk about needing years of intensive mental health and addiction counseling to rewire my brain. I am not embarrassed about needing significant external motivation to get into recovery. It all happened the way it needed to happen. At least, I believe that to be true for myself right now. 

I thank you all for the support and for reading this blog!!!

Peace,
J