I never take time off work. With the exception of a couple of Detached Youth Work shifts in winter when I had a chest infection with a barking cough and that time I had Swine Flu in 2009, I just don't take time off. Working contract to contract as a self-employed or sessional worker there is no provision for sick pay. If I am too ill to work then I don't get paid. Over the past couple of years this has definitely taken it's toll as I've bashed on through from chest infection to chest infection to recurring chest infection. But this week has brought me to my knees.
I have questioned what I was doing with work for a while, in fact it has been a fairly constant topic of conversation since I met Owen, I don't think there has ever been a time when he has known me not to be asking questions about work. The good times doing what I do are always exceptionally good, but the hard times are always exceptionally low and I am constantly trying to work out whether the good outweighs the bad and whether I believe the benefits are worth the sacrifices. Right now, this week, I definitely lean towards the answer being no.
I've been struggling over the last few days with the fact that I spent some of the time that we knew we were pregnant wondering whether I was actually happy about it. I have always wanted to be a mum, so there was no question that I wanted the baby. The questions in my mind were all about how we were going to afford it. And a huge part of that was related to my self-employment and the fact that, just like sick pay being non-existent, I would have no sort of maternity package. Now, I know plenty of folk manage with statutory maternity allowance, but once my brain got going on all the costs I couldn't reign myself back in. And I know that for a number of days this week I have been projecting my guilt about those thoughts onto my work which has added to my fear about going back.
I've also been in a fairly major strop with work, because my situation feels unforgiving. Now, I know that I put a lot of that on myself and my bosses would be horrified if they knew I felt this way, but I was so scared to say that I needed time off. Because I wasn't just inconveniencing one workplace, I was inconveniencing several. At no point this week have I been able to just not think about work and focus on getting through this awful thing that has happened. Whether it has been the constant stream of emails and texts from different projects, or realising I haven't contacted someone to let them know I can't be in, letting people down has been in my head all week. Add to that the loss of £285 from sessional contracts where because I was off I won't be paid and it all just feels a bit overwhelming. This morning I had an email telling me not to come back until I am ready, but realistically I have to be ready next week because we can't afford another week of me not being paid. So, despite a trip to the shop to buy milk ending in tears yesterday, I am gearing up to be back in work on Monday.
But all of this has led me to the definite decision that this crazy life that I lead is not sustainable. I can't go on working this way. There's a bunch of reasons, one being my wellbeing. I have dealt with so much panic and anxiety this week over work. This is not new, but this time I feel like I have taken proper notice of the sick feeling that makes it hard to breathe. I also question whether I could still be doing this when I'm 40, 50, nearing retirement? And retirement brings a panic of its own because I don't have a pension.
Money, money, money. Jesus warned us about not making money our master and as I write I realise it has occupied an awful lot of my thinking and worrying this past fortnight (I'm pretty sure He had something to say about worrying too!) But equally all of these questions are related to stewardship: of my gifts, my time, even my money. Am I using any of these things wisely?
I asked the people of my Facebook world yesterday what job they would imagine I would do if I didn't do what I do now. The responses really helped me to work out a bit more clearly what I think I am looking for in a change. Because a change has to come. And I realised that making a living from using my creative skills isn't necessarily the best use of them. I feel creatively drained by the time I finish work and there's nothing left. Perhaps what I am looking for is a day job that will allow me to use my creative skills as a hobby, or in a voluntary capacity, or for mission. Maybe that won't be forever, but maybe for a while that is what I need.
So many questions. And I don't want to rush into change at a time when I am clearly fragile. But as we move forward from here I will be seeking God for His guidance on where I should be and what He would have me doing. Daily I will be choosing to trust Him as provider, in whatever shape that takes, knowing that He knows our needs and He is faithful to meet them. And I'll be holding on tight to His hand as I start to step back into the world after a week of pyjamas, biscuits, tears and exhaustion.
He is strong in our weakness and we will lift our eyes to Him, because He is where our hope lies.
No comments:
Post a Comment