Returning to Work

This is one of a series of posts about a breakdown I had in 2010. 
The story starts here.

Me, just as I was starting to get ill

Early July.

I can't imagine how I will go back to work when my sick note runs out. I feel like everything is just so much effort. Even just walking through town: all those people, the noise, having to pass people and make decisions and cross roads and smile and act like I don't want to just jump under a truck. How do normal people deal with this? How did I cope with my life up to a couple of months ago, when it started falling apart? Have I just dropped something I had before?

I feel increasingly like something inside of my head has simply snapped, and no amount of drugs or ridiculous cognitive behavioural therapy are going to stick it back together again. It's just broken, and this is just how it is now.

I feel like whatever happens next, I'm still going to be the girl who had a month off work because she couldn't cope with putting one foot in front of the other - a failure, someone you need to tread carefully around in case she goes mental again and starts talking to the pot plants in the office.

I talk to my doctor about going back to work. I know it will have to happen eventually. She says I should have a "phased return" and writes this on my final sick note. 

At first I am pleased I at least have a week to psyche myself up for going back into the office. But then, I am not. I feel like I am going back to my job, my desk, my computer, as if I am fixed and back to normal - and I am most certainly neither of those things. Once I am back, everyone will think I got sick, and now I'm better and everything is fine.

When I hand that last sick note to my boss, he says we will arrange for me to just come in for a couple of hours each day, no pressure. He says he will tell the people I work with not to make any sort of fuss or treat me any differently when I go back. Once we have discussed this, I go home and have a panic attack that lasts for 3 days. I do not want to go back to work, but I know that I will have to, sooner or later.

All too quickly, that Friday morning rolls around, and I have to go into the office. I have to see my doctor beforehand, and end up turning up around 9:30, coffee in hand, just as everyone has settled down for the morning and will notice someone wandering past them. Just my luck that my desk is at almost the farthest point from the door. I feel everyone's eyes boring into me as I pass them, and will the ground to just swallow me up. I finally make it to my desk, sit down, and wonder what the hell I'm supposed to do, now that I'm here, being stared at.

I have a meeting with my boss who, true to form, is legendary. He says to start with I should only work 2 hours a day; we will have a brief catch-up each day to see how I am getting on, and whether I want to increase my hours, or cut back if it's getting too much.

I sit at my desk, and don't know what to say to these people. I've not seen or spoken to any of them for a month, since the day I just came back to my desk, picked up my things and left. None of them have been explicitly told why I have been off, but they probably know it's linked to some sort of "mental trouble." I don't know how I should act; I feel like if I carry on as normal, having a laugh and a joke with them, they'll think me a fraud. Should I sit here crying? Should I just not speak to any of them? What should I do? In the end, my friend Sarah, who sits behind me, comes and chats to me. I could not tell you what she said, but I was eternally grateful for it.

I do not feel ready to be back at work, but I know that if I waited until I felt ready, I would never get there.

I go home after two hours, relieved I went back on a Friday, and have the weekend to recover.

On Monday mornings our department has a get-together. This has always been around the bank of desks I sit on. The big boss has always come and stood next to my desk for the meeting. I have forgotten all of this until the big boss - the one who was so unexpectedly nice to me before - comes and crouches next to my desk. He asks how I am, tells me it's good to have me back. Smiles. Then he stands up, and the entire department are behind me, waiting for this morning's chat. I know they're staring at the boss, but I'm right next to him, and feel like they're all sneaking looks at me, wondering why I was away for so long, how come I'm still not turning up at 9am, how come I had such a short day on Friday. I am sure they must all hate me. None of them makes eye contact with me. None of them speaks. 

When everyone returns to their desks, one boy emails me to say it is good to see me.

To be continued

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