Returning to the scene of the crime

It’s been a while since I posted anything here. I started work again two weeks ago and it’s been a huge transition for me.

Every month, as the month comes to a close, I’ve had a huge anxiety attack at the thought of going back to work. Last month was no exception, but the reality is, I cannot afford to not go back to work. What choice do I have?

Day one was a mess. I cried over 5 times, once in front of my new supervisor, and it was obvious I was not ready to go back. I felt like I walked into a Picasso painting or like Alice in Wonderland. Up was down, etc. I saw my old co-workers and all I could see was where I was and where I could have been had I not broken down. I felt left behind and forgotten.

I moved my boxes into my new office space and then I went through a new barrage of emotions as I sifted through old books, papers, and office decor. I threw out about 50% of what I had as I knew I wouldn’t be working with clients anymore. So much of me didn’t even care anymore. It all seemed pointless, all that information on how to deal with life. Shit, I can’t even buy that crap, how can I dish it out to someone else?

Similarly, when I applied for a different job last week, they requested a writing sample so I dug one up from grad school. As I flipped through it, it was like looking at a picture I drew as a child. I sounded like a different person. A person who cared and was passionate about something. So so different from now.

I am such a different person now, but I have no idea who that is.

At small moments I think I want to work with clients again. But when I think of the energy it takes, I’m just not there. I don’t have the passion or drive for it.

As the month came to a close I began to really worry. This time, not about my job so much, but more about where I’ll live. Finding a place here hasn’t been easy and the thought of moving back home sends chills through me. Returning to the scene of the crime, is that really a good idea?

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