Dictionary.com describes the noun resignation as –
- the act of resigning.
- a formal statement, document, etc., stating that one gives up an office, position, etc.
- an accepting, unresisting attitude, state, etc.; submission; acquiescence: to meet one’s fate with resignation.
Last week, after 7 years of working for Destination Management Companies, I resigned from the two companies that employed me most frequently. There was almost no work during the Pandemic and I enjoyed not working. It was well paid work that was mostly simple but on occasion stressful. The expression ‘herding cats’ comes to mind. Most of my colleagues thoroughly enjoy the work but my brain filled the quiet periods (waiting for clients) with anxiety about every possible scenario that could go wrong. My favorite role was facilitating in conferences but that rarely happened. Facilitation was part of my original skill set that I brought from Scotland.
I have an undiagnosed neuropathic condition for which I have been seeking treatment for years. Finally, a very good neurologist, who was a Professor at Baylor University, sat me down and said honestly, “I think it is a combination of an existing cervical problem and anxiety.” On the last day of working, my fingers were involuntarily moving as though they had been electrically shocked, I couldn’t feel the bottom of my feet and my neck was spasming. As if that wasn’t bad enough, I got the tummy bug that is going around the USA. Thank goodness it was an immaculately clean hotel bathroom that I was unwell in. My OCD was lighting up like a Neon Sign. My head was screaming ‘GERMS, GERMS, GERMS’ but they were all mine!! I did make sure I left the bathroom clean.
There is a sense of relief but also guilt and failure. I have left many jobs over the years and almost always because my anxiety was overwhelming. Despite my age and wisdom, I just can’t seem to accept that I am not a useful part of society, in a conventional sense. Then I get irritated at myself because I know I am unwell with a debilitating but invisible illness. Medication only works so far, in my case. I feel guilt because I can no longer contribute to the household monetarily and also because I didn’t fully explain my resignation to my bosses. I can sense that one feels disappointment and the other could care less. In my leaving letter, I used the phrase, “we are embracing retirement”. Not true.
This is probably my final failure, in the work world, and now I have to adapt to retirement. I will receive my UK pension in 5 years. That will be a good moment, to be rewarded for all those painful years of work. I often wonder how I would have managed in the world if not for the support of my husband. One of my cousins in the US, who had a lifelong mental illness, told me how lucky I was to have such an understanding partner. That’s a familiar refrain from family and friends – it makes me feel more guilty not lucky. Teddy insists that I have been his backbone and support for the whole of his career. We are a bonded pair and I am grateful for that.
In time, I will adapt and perhaps acquiesce. To the outside world, I may live a pampered life but I would like them to spend one day in my head and one night in my disturbing dreams. At the moment, I am in limbo. Relieved not to be anxious at work but trepidatious about the future. I have some vague goals about writing and increasing my stamina. Eventually I will find a new rhythm and may even feel grateful for all that I have. One bright morning, I took great pleasure in removing my work clothes from my closet to donate to charity. Then I color coordinated the closets and hangers – a pleasant OCD task that felt wrapping myself in a fluffy blanket. I have put myself out to pasture but might enjoy the frolic, sniffing the flowers and watching the sunset.
Postcards from Kerry 