CW: Depression, anxiety, mental health
Anniversaries are weird these last 12 months. March 9th, 2020 I started a leave of absence from Microsoft to care for my mental health.
The lead up
I was burnt out. I was tired in my bones. Things had been building for awhile — being estranged from my dad, deciding to end our marriage, the process of splitting up, divorce… I spent a good 2.5 years prioritizing everyone else and it finally caught up to me. I was cranky all the time, no patience whatsoever, snippy, daily tears. I could not pull myself up or together. Sheer will and determination that had worked so well throughout my life, gone. I was failing miserably and could not see a path to relief. I thought about taking a really long vacation, I had enough in my bank to take 4 weeks off, maybe 6? Wouldn’t that be fantastic?
I floated the idea to a few close friends. Given the desire to heal and find myself again it was suggested I take an actual medical leave to care for my mental health. I couldn’t do that! Right? I mean, I’m a Responsible Adult with a mortgage and a teenager and cats, I cannot just — take a leave of absence? I went back and forth, did a bunch of journaling, researching what that would mean for my job and benefits and everything wrapped around that. I tentatively brought it up to my psychiatrist and he thought it was a great idea! What an opportunity to step away from the normal day-to-day and work through my stuff, find my resilience and passion after running on fumes.
I filled out the form with our Benefits team and the wheels were in motion. I created a Schedule and Plan to project manage my leave to make sure I got All The Things done with targets, goals, and — of course — healthy practices. I remember numerous smirks and slow nods when I explained my grand plan to anyone (as if they knew something I did not?)
And then I was off!
Day 1 — Monday, March 9th
I could barely contain myself and decided for that first week, I was going to do whatever the fuck I want! Spend all day on the couch bingeing shows at the top of my queue? Go on a hike? Stay in PJs 3 days straight? So. Many. Possibilities!
In the back of my head, there was this voice…see the previous week Microsoft moved to mandated work-from-home for non-essential employees. Washington state was starting to shut down. It seemed this coronavirus thing was serious. But it should all be fine by April so I can take my trip to Hawaii. I had reserved a quaint little AirBnB bungalow on the beach. I was researching hiking excursions, photo tours, and celebrate a shared milestone birthday with a dear friend I don’t see enough sipping wine on the beach watching the sunset. It was going to be SO good for my mental health!
Yeah. It quickly became clear I wasn’t going anywhere. The trip was off. Numerous brunches and lunches to catch up with friends I hadn’t seen in months or years, postponed. No weekly hikes. No small weekend getaways. Fucking COVID-19 is really messing with my leave of absence to work on my mental health.
It provided me a gift I could not have even fathomed.
Reintroduced to my authentic self
I did spend the first week doing whatever I wanted minute to minute. There was a lot of TV and ordering in. Many PJs, some time in the backyard for that PNW spring tease.
One of the big projects I had planned was a house purge. There were leftovers from another life, things I truly did not need or want, some I didn’t even know I owned. Project #1 was going through all the alcohol in the house. I wanted to experiment with new cocktails, things strange and classic and everything in between. I knew I had a lot of whisky, not sure what else, or what I might need to pick up to complete a basic bar.
That was a really fun afternoon. Music and organization? Yes please! I created a spreadsheet of what I had, approximate amounts in the bottle and notes like a broken cork. A year later I don’t know where that Excel file is and also grossly outdated. I had fun geeking out on that level of organization goals.
What I noticed moving between my living and dining room — I have a lot of great art on my walls. When I visit museums I like to capture photos of what I like and often share it on my socials. I’ll get postcards and send them off. I contemplate art that moves me, sometimes I burst into tears, sometimes I roll my eyes and think, really? And here I am in my own curated art gallery. Would anyone care to see it? Maybe with a story of why I was drawn to it, acknowledge and celebrate artists, link to their portfolios? I began posting my art to Instagram for friends to enjoy (and I know a few more sales came out of that experiment, yay art!). I loved spending this time with my art, reconnecting with parts of me and period of my life.
After a month, I realized that my daily routine was sleeping until I naturally woke up, get a coffee, watch The Daily Show, write in my journal, then decide what I wanted to do with the rest of my day. My prearranged project plan was useless. Without a schedule, I had the freedom to sit and listen to what my brain and body needed that day. Then gave that gift to myself. Every day. This was more healing than I ever could have imagined. I found myself again.
Things I did on my leave:
- Shared my personal art gallery, found things that need frames, and hung art that was put away for far too long
- Experiment with cocktails, found some favorites, and some never to try again
- Coloring (only the snarky kind)
- Gifted a sourdough starter that is still alive and produces fresh bread every few days
- Wrote snail mail sharing cards and stickers and other fun stuff
- Spent a lot of time in my backyard. This resulted in bins and bins and bins of yard waste (some trees and foliage had not been touched in two years) I pulled out ALL the vines (really, all of them). Hired someone to replace my aged and broken fence, add a railing to my deck and build a firepit
- With a cleaned up my backyard, many hours in my hammock just, being
- Purged a lot of stuff, I filled half of my 2-car garage with boxes for donation. Those boxes are gone and I’ve already filled up that side of the garage again.
Mostly — having the space to check in with myself and figure out how I wanted to spend my days. That was a gift I will cherish.
The anniversary
I miss my leave. It’s my opinion that as adults, we don’t take enough time for ourselves. To spend time doing what we want, say no to the bullshit where we feel obligated, say YES to those special moments and experiences that fuel our souls!
Last week while under my weighted blanket, watching soothing lights and listening to a Broadway playlist — Seasons of Love came on. And it hit me, what has this last year been?
525,600 minutes of things that have brought me healing (the good, the bad and the ugly) to reconnect with my Authentic Self and what feeds my soul.
525,600 minutes
525,000 moments so dear
525,600 minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife
In 525,600 minutes
How do you measure a year in the life?How about love?
How about love?
