I was going through a transformative period. There have been two absolutely devastating periods in my life, and this was the second. The first was when at the age of 25 and 7 months pregnant with my first child, his father died tragically. The vision of my future vanished in that moment. At least I had the impending birth and child to focus on (maybe at the expense of my own healing and acceptance of what happened). But I kept my marbles.
I was raised to believe that one’s value was derived from how successful they were in their career. I was an ok mom. I was an ok spouse. I was an ok daughter, sibling and friend. But my goodness, I excelled at my job. The lens of self-worth I viewed myself through was also through that “success” kaleidoscope. And for me, it wasn’t about stature or salary. I was honestly good at my job, and I believed I was a good trustworthy manager as well who was doing good in the world.
An ongoing bizarre situation arose that just kept intensifying. My integrity was questioned, which caused me to begin questioning myself. Even though I gave myself pep talks that it wouldn’t last forever and I had to do the work to get through it, every new event and twist was like a dagger to my soul and I was wading through wholly unfamiliar territory. I was crumbling and didn’t have the tools to cope. None of my peers had experienced anything like it, so the support structure was weak.
The stress started taking a physical toll on me, while the emotional and mental toll snowballed. I couldn’t eat. I had absolutely no interest in food (and if you know me, you know I LOVE food). I had to force myself to chew a few bites because a human needs to eat. This went on for many months. I lost a ton of weight (bonus?). Just when I thought the light was at the end of the tunnel and life would return to normal, another curveball to the gut hit me. I snapped. I felt I was left with no choice but to quit the job I was so proud of with people I truly enjoyed working with. My mental and physical states could not tolerate any more of the rollercoaster.
So “fight or flight” kicked in, and while I still had my faculties about me, and having never chosen the “normal” path, I chose fight AND flight. If I didn’t start eating and stop what the stress was doing to my body, very bad things were going to happen.
My doctor put me on a leave of absence due to acute anxiety and the physical symptoms. This was terrifying to me. I had never been on medical leave before in my 30+ year career (I barely even got maternity leaves – both very short and unpaid). It also brought on a tidal wave of incredible guilt, furthering the mental anguish and nearly pushing my sanity over the edge.
The prescribed meds made my eyesight blur and my brain feel barely functional. Really unpleasant and unnerving. So I asked if I could go off the meds and mentioned I had just bought a camper van and felt like just running away in it would do me a world of good. I needed to put some distance between me and “the situation”. The doctor agreed, so put me on a fast track weaning schedule for the meds.
So off we went on our maiden voyage. First stop – South Lake Tahoe, NV