Why I Quit My Job

I have truly never felt so exhausted. Despite the fact that the sibs are on a normal sleep schedule, feed themselves, and overall are just not helpless newborn infants, I greatly underestimated just how tired I'd be. Over the past few months, I've learned to nap everywhere--buses, social events we went to, the dinner table. Literally anywhere for any amount of time, I take the time to turn everything off, mind, spirit, etc. Even if just for a moment. With a job that requires two hours of commute time a day, and in which the work itself is constantly intense and trauma-filled, I knew that things would need to change if I could continue to offer the best care possible.

A manager position opened at my job shortly before I announced my resignation, and a few days after the sibs had come to live with us. The trauma of the work was equally matched with the trauma of the work environment itself. Everything felt unstable--lots of turnover in staff, everyone was trying to gain their bearings all at the same time. I worked at a place once that aligned itself with the metaphor that they were building the plane while it was flying in the air. This job was like that, but the only tools you could work with to build the plane were marshmallows. (I kind of lost my way with that metaphor. Again, I'm very tired). Anyway. This manager position opened up with its shiny middle class salary and benefits, and I was legitimately torn. I even made a pro and con list.

The team I was leaving was strong and supportive of each other. It was evident that what they needed was a leader, however. They needed someone who could work as a liaison between themselves, with their front line expertise, and the higher administration, whose expertise lays in grants, policies, and evaluative measures of excellence. I questioned if I could be that liaison. I questioned if I could leave my clients, whose stories and progress I have followed for over a year now. I questioned if this position would be the exact push that my resume would need to make this degree I'm seeking worth it. I dreamed of the trips home I would be able to afford and the student loans I could actually realistically pay off. I dreamed of stability.

Something about J and my relationship that I've noticed a few times, however, is that we always need something causing a ruckus. Whenever we start to settle into something, we tend to itch to add something new to the mix--new cats, an old dog, a bigger house, and some sibs to top it off. Some things we choose, some just fall in our lap, but though all of it, we just keep rolling. Almost like a TV show that starts off so low-key and season by season become darker and darker, our life is a roller coaster that is only going up. With the school year starting we find ourselves juggling doctors appointments, special olympics, job training, her school, my school, and making sure we all have three square meals a day. To top it off, the animals need their love and care, laundry needs to get done, toilet paper needs to be bought and a bed time story needs to be read on a semi-regular basis. We are a factory for getting needs met and with only a few meltdowns, we're getting damn good at it. But all machines need oil, and we were beginning to squeak.

In the past few weeks, I was becoming short with J and the sibs more often, my patience was thin for things that weren't in my control. I legitimately had a grown up tantrum about having to go to Walmart. I was burnt out. Work was hard. The community had been hit with a lot of domestic violence-related tragedies this summer. I was tired at home and tired at work and the smelly man on the bus made it hard to fall asleep when I was neither here nor there. Things were hard. So I made a decision.

I withdrew my name from consideration for the manager position because regardless of my need for stability, my investment in my clients, and, let's be real, my ego that really wanted to have a management position listed on my resume, I knew that my clients, my coworkers, and my family all deserved 100% of my time, energy, and skill. If I were to have gotten the manager position, I know with all of me that no party could get the 100% they deserve. So I left.

This is my first week home. I've had a few panic attacks about financial stability along the way, but I always convince myself that things will work out. The sibs are okay. This almost marriage is okay. I'm writing this post with a cinnamon scented candle burning and a Pinterest page open with ideas for CrockPot meals. I will probably be in bed by 8 tonight. We are in the eye of the storm. And for now, we are okay.