Alive!

Transitioning out of my job at Homeland, I feel like the man, spat out from the maw of a monster as indigestible, who, though escaping with his life, experiences a sense of rejection.

As children when pretending, we used the expression, "Let's say." "Let's say we're starving in the wilderness, and . . ." Homeland would cast me as the monster. "Let's say Arlene is a monster."

My place at Homeland, my belonging there, is something I can no longer emotionally support. The income was terribly addictive, and there were aspects of the position that were tremendously enjoyable and fulfilling. I also learned a lot. There are staff members there of such a high caliber both personally and professionally that I will miss them terribly. Yesterday, after saying goodbye, I could not restrain my tears. I was embarrassed in front of all the staff taking their breaks, as I emptied my locker and removed my name from the door.

There is no individual at Homeland who worked harder than I did. I saw nurses blow off charting and a multitude of other tasks, just to clock out on time. I stayed until the work was done, no matter how late.

I have long felt, however, that my job would be perfect if the people would just go away. While I relished the challenge of meeting whatever comes up at any moment, there can be no break from it. Between my difficulty in focusing and my introversion, and the pressure of completing work and dealing with emergencies while frequently changing gears to meet people's needs, I rarely crossed the threshold at night except in a cloud of sadness, frustration, anger, and a profound need to be alone.

What I would have needed to continue, was support and validation from the Director of Nursing.

I think I reached a point where my chief fun at work, besides doing admissions, and the childlike entertainment I derive from peel-and-stick labels, was honing my deadpan humor. Nothing is more fun than cracking people up. I've had many shining moments there, but others not so shining. Eventually I became aware, from the hostility drifting down the hallway, that the DNS and I have irreconcilable differences.

Lately in my deep sense of isolation, as I strive to overcome my material roots, I have been yearning for some sign that I could feel for myself that I am loved by God. I think this is it. I have been pulled out of this field by God, uprooted like a beet, with my health and best interest at stake. I do not wish to drop in my tracks like L. [See previous post.]

For those who wish to know my next step, I will let you know when I know. I trust I will find a more suitable field. Inshallah.