Sitting at a coffee shop in Washington, DC, eight months ago, I forced myself to reflect. I was at the coffee shop because I was too scared to go to work that day. I wasn't scared of the office itself, or my co-workers, or my boss, or the job. I was scared of myself and was scared that I would have a panic attack at work. I was going to be graduating from university in just two months. What did I need in a workplace? What did I want? I had always thought that my priorities would be along the lines of what the
job was, who I was working for, etc. But recently, I had been
struggling with balancing professional work with my mental health.
And I still do. There are
days when the two just clash terribly for some reason or another. Those days, I
feel like a complete failure, on both the personal and professional levels. And
while I haven't had a full-time, long-term career job, I have held a number of
jobs that have taught me valuable lessons about the relationship between the
workplace and mental health.
To begin with, the worst place I ever worked was Foothills Summer
Camp - for more than one reason. But one of those reasons was that my mental
health was completely ignored. I worked seven days a week and most days were
over fifteen hours, easily. There were days when I woke up feeling absolutely
dead inside and like there were weights on my chest, holding me down. I cried
on a regular basis and received no support from superiors. In fact, when I asked for help in
my work, or when I attempted to solve problems, I was criticized and shut out.
I was told to be a better employee without being given guidance or tools in how
to do that. I was penalized for standing up for what I felt was right. I was
excluded. I was punished. I felt inadequate every waking moment. I despised
waking up every single morning. I continued to work there for three summers, for a few reasons. I had great friends among the other [emotionally-abused] staff. I loved the kids I taught equestrian lessons to (although Lord only knows how
absolutely unqualified I was to do that). My parents also worked there, meaning I kind of lived at camp, so it would have been awkward (and difficult, since I couldn't drive) to work
elsewhere.
Before the nightmare job at Foothills, I worked as a Resident
Assistant in the Ladies' Dormitory at Upper Columbia Academy - my high school.
It was during this part of my life that I began to struggle with mental health,
but I didn't notice it affecting my work because the deans I worked under gave
me unconditional mental support. While I was always expected to be at work
on time, and to do my duties, they were kind and understanding. I remember
crying in a panic after disciplining one of the girls on my hall, terrified
that she would hate me forever because of it, and one of the deans just wrapped
me in her arms and sat with me until I calmed down again. I was given hugs and
chocolate, prayer, advice, and regular nights off to relax. There was no set
policy for mental health care (as far as I knew) but I also didn't realize that
I was developing a mental illness. The deans did their absolute best to support
my emotional journey through high school and my first job. I felt cared for,
but (through absolutely no fault of theirs) I didn't develop the skills
necessary to manage my mental health and work.
Summer 2018 - I worked at the Historic Markerville
Creamery. It was the first time I ever held a job with an organization that was
not related to my church in any way. By this time, I had an official diagnosis
of depression and anxiety. I was on regular medication. I knew that I needed to
practice self-care. The first time I woke up under a manic-depressive episode
and came to work late because of it, I spoke with my manager and explained my
mental health status to her. She offered support to me, but in a different way:
her support was professional. She didn't offer hugs or words
of encouragement. She set out a plan for how to communicate with her when I was
undergoing an episode, and what the steps were for me to take if I needed help.
She asked me to tell her if I needed further support. We left it at that. She
did not intervene or monitor me, but I was heard, acknowledged and affirmed. The summer went well and my mental health did not hinder my work.
Back to DC - I worked as the Strategic Communications intern at the Bazelon
Center for Mental Health Law. It was a dream come true; yet
for a least a couple weeks in October, I struggled severely with my mental health. For a
while, I fought through it and went to work regardless, but my depression was
beginning to suffocate me, and my anxiety was beginning to choke me. Because
interning in DC was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, I felt even worse for 'wasting' it. I
finally overcame my self-discrimination and called my supervisor. I explained
that I wasn't feeling well because of mental health reasons. And, of course,
she supported me. The Bazelon Center works for the rights of those with mental
illness, and yet, because of the residual feelings of shame and fear from
working at Foothills, I was legitimately terrified of messing up my reputation
by admitting mental illness. The irony is not lost on me. When I told my
supervisor, she provided the most comprehensive care from a work place that I
have ever received. She told me to take my time in getting better, to focus on
myself - all I needed to do was let them know if I'd be working that day or
not. I was allowed to work from home if I couldn't make it into the office building
itself. She asked if I had or needed psychiatric support and if she could do
anything to help with that. She made me feel like I wasn't a bad employee, like
I was still greatly valued despite my inability to work sometimes.
So, as I sat in a Peet's Coffee Shop down the street from Bazelon
(because I had almost made it to work that day before I panicked), I came to the
realization that I can work with and despite of my mental health issues. I do
not have to be 'better' to be successful. I don't have to be perfect and healed
before I can pursue my goals. So, here is the advice I can give you from my own
experiences.
1. Be honest with yourself.
You can’t
begin the process of balancing your mental health and your professional life if
you don’t acknowledge that sometimes you will have to prioritize your health
over your work. That is just reality. To continue working, you have to be
healthy and to be healthy, you might have to stop working. It doesn’t make you
a less valuable employee, or less successful, or less of a person. If you had any other kind of health issue, like diabetes, cancer, MS, you would not be less of a person. If you would feel comfortable taking time
off from work to recover from issues with physical illnesses, then you need to teach yourself to be
comfortable with taking time off work to recover from mental illness.
2. Talk to your boss before you have an episode.
This is one
that a lot of people aren’t comfortable with because they feel that it is not
their supervisor’s right to know anything about their health status. If you
feel this way, I understand. Take a moment to consider, however, that speaking
to your boss before an issue arises allows your boss to mentally and
professionally prepare themselves for those days when you may not be at the top
of your game, or maybe you’re out of the game completely. Blindsiding them with
a sudden mental health explanation (however legitimate it is) when you’ve
missed a week of work already will not help the situation. They may still be
understanding and respectful of you and give you the time and space you need to
recover but notifying your supervisor of a pre-existing condition that may
require you to miss work is equally respectful.
3. Set up a plan for those days you need healing time.
Chances are,
you are going to need time off at some point to deal with a mental health
issue. You may be able to give advance warning, but it may be sudden. You may
even need to leave work part-way through the day. What should be done when that
happens? Who do you notify and how? Can you work remotely or at a different
time? Does your work go on hold until you have recovered? Does a co-worker take
over? Do you need to have someone on standby to cover a shift? Do you need
multiple planned breaks during a shift, or maybe a place to go when you need
space? Talking through all this will make those days of mental illness easier
and smoother to handle for yourself and your supervisor. Furthermore, when
there’s a plan in place, you will be more likely to care for your mental
health, rather than shelving it until you need a week off from work. Through
taking preventative, responsible action, you become a more valuable employee.
4. Plan in mental health days.
These can
take a variety of forms, but you need to discover how you care for
your mental health, and then set aside time to do that. For myself, I’m
discovering that (as extroverted as I am) I need occasional days when I am
either completely alone or surrounded by strangers and can ignore literally
everyone. Part of my anxiety comes from social interactions, so I need days
when I don’t socially interact and my anxiety can take a break. One solution
could be working from home or a coffee shop once a week. Maybe I split my
‘weekends’ between Saturday/Sunday and a Wednesday some weeks, so that I have a
day alone with no social expectations whatsoever. It really doesn’t matter how
you do it, or where or when, but learn what you need and give that to yourself.
No one thinks twice about the idea of keeping our bodies healthy by drinking
water, eating vegetables, sleeping and exercising. We should not think twice
about caring for our minds through whatever method works best for us.
5. Never stay in a job that hurts your mental health.
This is the
hardest one for me, because it takes the most courage. There is nothing I hate
more than quitting, but if I ever find myself in a job that does not allow for
my mental health to be respected and maintained, or (God forbid) a job that
actually contributes toward my mental
illness, I have to find the strength to walk away. No amount of money or
prestige is worth my mental health. The children that I was helping at
Foothills were not a good enough reason for me to stay. The friends I had among the
staff were not a good enough reason. The enjoyment I got from riding horses and
working outdoors was not a good enough reason. I should have quit, because now
I see that working there left lasting scars on my psyche. I am still scared of
asking for support from supervisors, or even discussing work-related issues with them. I am ashamed of needing help on a project.
I hate producing work that needs edits of any kind. I’ve nearly lost jobs
because I spiraled down into a panic-stricken secretive nightmare. I have
physically hidden from a supervisor before because I hadn’t fulfilled my work
duties yet. The first time I submitted a social media post for review at
Bazelon, it came back with suggestions for edits and I nearly cried because I
felt inadequate, even though my supervisor made it clear that they were pleased
with my quality of work. All this can be traced back to the mentally destructive summers at Foothills. Never let an unhealthy job situation continue – either
find a solution to the problem or walk away. Trust me.
Looking ahead to the future, I will most likely live with mental
illness for the rest of my life. I could let it hold me back and limit my
professional achievements, but I am determined to succeed despite of my mental illness – or perhaps in spite of my illness. I can’t idly wait for my mental illness to
recede. I must proactively manage my mental health in the workplace, and I
encourage you to do the same – because you are full of potential and mental
health cannot diminish that.