Series of introspections: Part one

Once upon a time, I was a good and steady man.

I was once gainfully employed. I worked in a job where I felt unappreciated and largely unnecessary. I worked very hard at this job and made some money at it, but not near what it was worth. My day would start at 4:30 or 5:00 when I would wake up and shower and dress and leave for work. I would arrive at around 6:00 or 6:30 and would work until 6:30, 7:00, 7:30 in the evening. I did this for several years. The work was tedious, repetitious and stultifying. Despite that, I became very good at what I did. My co-workers felt much the same way, I think. The morale on the team was usually very low and little joy was had by anyone. Dreary would be a kind way to describe the general working atmosphere. There were times of happiness, of course and sometimes laughter. One had to find a way to laugh just to get through the day. But it was rarely a fun place to be.

My team consisted of a diverse group of individuals from different backgrounds. They were highly opinionated and were often difficult to bring into one accord. Often, there was petty bickering and even open dislike of one another. I know this because I was promoted from within this team to become their leader. When all was said and done, I think I would have preferred to stick with doing the work instead of leading the team, but that was not really an option. My team respected and liked me for the most part I think, but I'm not sure how effective I was as a leader. I dislike and sometimes fear conflict. Not a good trait for a supposed leader, but I did the best I could. Since I was a former co-worker, they all knew my strengths and conversely, my weaknesses. To their collective credit, they rarely exploited that knowledge. Despite their differences, they were all good people.

As Team Lead, I was expected to conduct daily team meetings and bolster team spirit as well as focus the efforts of the team on the tasks at hand for the day. Unfortunately for me and my team, I had no idea how to go about this. I had never had any training in how to be an effective leader and had to learn on the fly. It was very hard to keep these meetings from devolving into gripe sessions, but I did what I could. I tried to give notice of good work done to my team whenever it was warranted and possible. I tried to make them feel as though they were an important part of the whole (which they certainly were) and kept any criticisms out of the public eye and between the individual and myself. I did the best I knew how to do and the best I could. I led the team in this way for a little over a year.

My immediate superior was a lovely person and (I think) a good friend. She too had been promoted from within and I think that she (like me) would have been happier doing the work and not having to manage. As far as I know, she had never had any management training either. We had many long talks which were quite meaningful at the time, but ultimately came to nothing. The emphasis was always on production and the senior management on site rarely had time (nor perhaps, inclination) for such things. I don't recall a time when any one of my bosses ever told me I was doing a good job. They may have done so, but I cannot remember. They were too busy working to satisfy the customer. Not being railed at by senior management on site was counted as a good day by those of us in junior management.

Aside from being a leader, I was expected to carry a full workload and also make up any work leftover by the team on a daily basis. I worked a great deal of overtime and rarely saw my family. This was a difficult situation as my first born son was an infant and then a toddler. I was working so much that I would leave in the morning before he awoke and arrive in the evening after he had been put to bed. The situation caused stress and strain to my wife and to me and to our relationship. She told me she felt like a single parent and that I was missing some of the best years of our son's life. She was correct. My health had declined somewhat and my wife was very concerned that I might actually work myself to death. In retrospect, I think her concerns were likely valid.

Over the course of time, I realized I could no longer tolerate not seeing my family anymore. After great consideration and with the encouragement of my wife, I decided to quit. It took a little while to manage it, but I did manage and finally walked out the door. I left behind a not-so-great-but-made-most-of-the-bills salary. I left behind some very good people, some of whom I called friends. I miss some of them still.

Was it worth it?

Hell yes.

That was two and a half years ago. I haven't worked a day since then (at a regular job) and I go to therapy in the hopes that I can manage to live with my new self and not feel too guilty about not working. I am trying to deal with the (at times) crushing guilt I feel as a result of living a life which many would give their eye teeth to be able to live. This is not easy for me as I was raised to believe that one was of no merit unless one worked everyday and worked hard at that. My father worked hard all his life until his health made him stop. He and my mother raised me and my sister to hold ourselves to and base ourselves (and our self worth) on that work ethic. Up until I quit (a very negative word in our house), I had lived up to that ideal since I was fourteen. I have not found it easy to give all that up. I am managing to do it, but it is not easy for me. I am not completely indolent as one might think I could be. I take care of our household chores and still pay (by means of a small inheritance) nearly all our bills. Still, for those who are wondering, I am not happy with the way I live now. I need to work. The thing is that I am not qualified to do anything except what I was doing before. My job was so specialized that no one else in my city has any need for it. I don't want to move because we love living in this area. I don't know what else to try, either. I am now forty-seven years old with no more direction or goal or even idea of what I want to do with my life than I had when I started college. And my life is probably about half over.

Tragic? I don't know, but it sure doesn't help with the depression much.

More on the depression later.

Thoughts?

Pax,
Nelson