Burnout, grief, and healing…

Below I started writing in August of this year. I shall continue. Kind of a doozy going back to read one’s feelings from just a few months ago. The frustration and anger is palpable, and I can’t say that I’ve stopped watching the terrible news.

Not a fun combination, but one I have been dealing with in spades lately. Like many, I burnt out on 20+ years of bartending and the restaurant industry. It’s not that I don’t have a love for or knack for it anymore, but the backlash from patrons and their behavior has caused many of us to run. Hailed at the beginning of the pandemic as “heroes” for the mad switch to to-go food and drinks, sanitized grocery handling, and deliveries, now we’re considered selfish for still expecting a tip. We’ve always made tips, when did that become a new thing for people to rail against?

My grief in losing my wonderful friend and former partner to cancer was all-consuming at times. A year ago, I had a moment that broke me and I knew I needed help to get through the despair. I’ve never shunned therapy but was afraid of medication for depression after stories from friends about the ups and downs of dosage havoc. I took the chance and gave Lexapro a try, and it was a perfect fit at the time. Serotonin and I had been perfect strangers for some time. I took it regularly for months until I realized it was making me complacent, too much so. I was perfectly “happy” in my job I was actually miserable because all that yummy serotonin flooding my brain made me not have a care in the world.

I don’t advocate just going off an SSRI without your doctor’s go-ahead! I did gradually taper off myself until I was all in my feelings. I needed to know how I was actually feeling to dissect what needed to stay, and what needed trimming. I ended up leaving my last bartending/serving job. I was in a lot of physical pain, and I couldn’t take the entitled parents who let their children run amok with no-regards for our feelings or our business. I left behind wonderful coworkers and lovely regulars. I don’t remember guests being this bad before.

So, how does one wade through the muck that is now? AI is creating a lot of unhappiness in addition to being helpful. More and more people, myself included, are applying to jobs in several professions in hopes SOMEONE gives us a chance. According to a TIME magazine article “You’re Not Imagining It– Job Hunting Is Getting Worse“, by Alana Semuels, a perfect storm of layoffs (many in Human Resources), less jobs, and AI sorting through and immediately rejecting applications are to blame.

“Part of the difficulty stems from a tightening labor market, especially in fields like tech that have had hundreds of thousands of layoffs in the last nine months. There is now, on average, one job opening for every two applicants on LinkedIn, a big change from early 2022, when there was one job opening per applicant on average.”

And that statistic is made worse when you know that it’s often the same people over and over again applying for the same jobs. I have had it, but how do I survive? How does anyone? I currently sport two busted knees and a pinched nerve in one foot. Not exactly bartender material anymore, especially in my mid-40’s. So, using several job sites, a rewritten resume (yes, I used AI to freshen it up), and a healthy expectation for rejection- I apply to several jobs a day. By the end of July, I had applied to 171 positions, predominantly in writing (copywriting and content creation). Am I dumb? No, I’m wildly overeducated with a Master’s degree I don’t use. Am I going completely insane and questioning my worth as a person? Yes.

So, where’s the healing? Burnout and grief from a long career, grief from losing a loved one, and my financial stability. Yes, there has been healing. Healing is not waking up one day and feeling all your problems leave your body and mind forever. *Today, October 26, 2023* – That my readers, is completely impossible. It takes a long time for many problems to happen, they aren’t going to disappear overnight. As much as I bristle at telling myself I need -patience-, that’s exactly what one needs. I’ve found writing down, yes journaling, my daily or weekly feelings to help. I get a lock on them, make note they’re there, and see if I can work around them if they’re big, through if they’re small. Eventually working through a big problem is helpful, but again, time heals, and if you don’t have a ready-made solution for things getting in the way of your everyday life, you need to manage the space it’s taking up.

Just don’t give up. Ever.

I have 19 tabs open…

Hello all. You’re probably nodding along to the above, looking at your dozens of open browsers. On the computer, they’re *usually* important. Mine are several online courses, lists of book publishers and agents, Indeed (we ALL have that one open), Google Docs, companies I’m researching, and many tabs for my newest website. I realized that an issue I’m having is easy enough to get solved, but no matter how “user-friendly” plug-n-play web hosts are, they failed to revamp their ease of use for pandemic-weary, short-attention spanned adults in their 40s. Hi, that’s me.

I spent my scorching day yesterday pushing through to make my website look nice. It looks nice. It is not wowing me. Now, before you say, “You can hire people for that,” I’ll just put my palm up, says “Thanks,” and explain that I am far too poorly in the deep pockets realm to afford brand cereal, much less a website designer. I also love to tinker- I’ll create 15 new website options, trash 14 of them, and still question the 15th. There’s also the pervasive website envy from looking at other lovely, modern sites with fading menus and easy-to-click options. I know I can do that, really. But the frustration of spending all day figuring it out when my time is limited is frustrating (in my best John Oliver accent).

So what’s a budding copywriter to do? Drink more coffee? Snuggle the cats? Pray I’ve saved my work before one prances across the keyboard, butthole on proud display?

I’m going to listen to my ADHD and go run errands.

So let’s talk about anxiety…

Wow, October of 2020 I wrote the passage below but never hit submit. Like all those texts we rant hard on, then in a fit of passion hit ‘send’…or delete. Why do we do that? Is it anxiety boiling over and we finally pay attention to the mess and proceed to cleanup? Perhaps, or maybe it’s knowing our words will fall on deaf ears, or encourage a fight. For the record, I still feel as passionately about my “restaurant rage” (angry late young-aged woman shakes fist at sky). I won’t cop to middle-aged, no no, not yet.

I’m angry for more selfish reasons (but are they selfish?) Restaurant work still pays my bills, albeit poorly, and I’m seething to get out (that’s 100% on me). I’m craving support from friends I’m not getting (but we’re all suffering from the loss of our friend who was my former partner). An old friend posted to Facebook- “Do you hang on to connections that don’t serve you? Do you know why?” My shortened answer, for here, loyalty to the past. To a place we all worked in, to another friend who passed from cancer, and now for our friend we laid to rest last week. A lot of these friends moved away, and to be honest, I don’t keep in touch with because it’s tough to admit that we shared time and place and memories, but not a close friendship. Some moved and I do keep close. I’ve been questioning friendship and what that means to me, and what I actually need from people. Being in my 40’s is the hardest part, so many have kids and spouses that take up 95% of their time. I like kids, but they are adult-friendship killers. Unless, of course, you also have kids.

So, as a childless, unmarried woman of a certain age, I’m learning to seek out those who better serve my emotional and intellectual needs, as well as my interests. Regardless of your situation, I gently suggest you do too.

“It’s troubling to continue addressing this, but as I live in the DC metro area, besieged by election and Supreme Court atrocities, the feeling is climaxing. I’ve long dealt with anxiety and depression, and have managed to curtail the worst of its ugliness, until now. I’m seven months into being “unemployed” or as I’m starting to call it, again, under-employed. Working part-time delivering food and alcohol for my company, and also making drinks for the outside of our restaurant, the only spot to enjoy food and drinks anymore. It’s fine, it’s “fine”. It’s hourly, not tips, I doubt many know the tips they are leaving don’t go to us, but to pay salaries and keep the lights on. I shouldn’t even be mentioning that here, but I’m getting fed up when I see the generosity people are offering, thinking it’s helping us keep our lights on, our bank accounts full. It’s not. I don’t want to bite the hand that feeds me, as this payment in cash every week for my hours leaves me to collect unemployment. I don’t want to be on unemployment, I want to be a functioning member to society, to my life, my future. And I’m sorry, but I can’t do that on 30-40% less salary. Not in the DC area, where depending on where you live, rents have not eased up. I have never wanted to pack up and run screaming in the other direction more in my life. I live in a very-well-to-do neighborhood that up and ran away with being affordable long ago, but I kept hanging on because I made a good living, most of my friends are here, and it’s safe.

So back to that anxiety, see, it’s always been there, but kept hidden. Hidden by the “safety” and “comfort” of my job in a profession that has been decimated by this pandemic. Never did I think bartending would go out of style, but here we are folks. People are ordering cases of wine and beer to be dropped at their doors, learning how to make old fashions just like the bar down the street, and building bars in their basements.”