When Life Takes Over

 I was struck by something recently, when talking to a colleague at work.  She was discouraged and demoralised by her job, and due to management decisions far beyond her control had ended up in a position where she could not leave her job despite it becoming untenable in almost every way.  Extremely demanding but not highly paid work, it did at least cover the mortgage, but was now creating far more stress than being able to pay the mortgage was relieving.

She was not the only one put in this position, with no end in sight and seemingly no way out.  But as I listened to her, a person usually cheerful and reluctant to complain, I couldn't help consider her deteriorating physical and mental state and wonder at what point Life would take over and dictate its own path out of the mess.

Life has a way of doing that.  It has happened to me several times over the decades.  

Once I had worked for someone as a live-in carer and we had become undeniably dependent on each other over the course of two years. She had needed the reliability of knowing who was looking after her and I had needed the reliability of a job I could walk into every time I came back from my travels abroad.  The mutual dependency became a burden to both of us, but we didn't know how to escape the loop.  Without the job, I had no income, no roof over my head.  I had worked in other kinds of minimal wage jobs but it was almost impossible to save any money when food and transport cost so much; it was merely a way of subsisting.  Without me she had no idea who the agency would send next and for how long, and when you're 85 years old, that's stressful. 

One day during my three hours off, I fell off my bike and landed on my chin on the pavement.  The mess on my knee could be fixed, but the headaches that followed the knock to my jaw were debilitating.  I continued to work through them, but slid downwards into depression.  Even if I had taken time off, I had nowhere else to stay.   The woman I cared for was a complex individual whom I came to love dearly, but she wasn't easy to live with.  We were making each other miserable.  I knew I had to make a decision; I had to get out of this situation as it had become unhealthy for both of us. But the stress prevented me from thinking clearly.  The depression was incapacitating me more every passing day, and compromising my potential for making even the smallest decisions. 

And then Life took over.  I suddenly developed crippling stomach pains and found myself bending double, barely able to do my duties. I ended up in bed.  The agency sent in an emergency carer who ended up looking after both of us for a week.  Then a local from the village offered for me to stay in her home as long as I was able to look after myself, for as long as I needed, and this was how I quit my job.

The problem is, although Life has a way of causing our bodies to fold under the stress until there are no 'options' left, and forcing us into a position where we finally have the headspace to think, we are often in no fit condition to make any major decisions about our life situation when we are so debilitated.  It was months before I could work again, and I survived purely by the kindness of strangers, and by house-sitting for people on holiday.  Slowly I climbed my way back to health.

So there is no moral to this tale, because I know how easy it is to say Make your life-changing decisions before you become so stressed and ill that Life makes the decisions for you, because you might find your options have narrowed to one, by that point -  and how difficult it is to do.  I'm not sure that even now, were I to find myself in that same situation, I would handle it differently.  Perspective is a great gift but it usually comes with hindsight.  When you are in the midst of it, perspective is frequently obscured.  

This blogpost probably applies only to those of us who tend to stick to things long after they become unhelpful; whether due to the comfort of routine, or the fear of the unknown, or a misguided sense of duty and loyalty to others. As for those who fly at the first hurdle - well, I guess they need to learn how to stick things out.   I wish I was qualified to write about that, but I am most definitely not. 

I wonder who else is out there who has experienced this phenomenon?

Photos courtesy of Eva at: http://fantasticfoto.shutterchance.com/