A wise man once sang, “Yeah, being apathetic’s a pathetic way to be, but I don’t care; what matters to you does not matter to me.”

As someone who tested for empathy as a top five strength on the StrengthFinders test (you’ll find it on my resume), I’ve not once been accused of apathy. If anything, I feel too much; I can quickly turn empathy into a weakness when I start to believe it’s my personal responsibility to take control and fix everyone’s problems. I have the answers, but when I can’t predict behaviors or daily workflows, I start to unravel. I never thought I was a control freak, but I start to wonder, the older I get. There seems to be a fine line between a desire to be invaluable and help people and total self-sacrifice, and I’ve been sacrificing myself for years.

I love to work, and I get so much satisfaction from the work I do, no matter what that has been -Sonic carhop, office utility, teller, etc. My philosophy is this: the work you’re doing may not be your passion, but be passionate about your work. Many of us don’t get to hop right into our dream jobs from graduation, but maintaining a passion for a job well done leads to success. Unfortunately, we can find ourselves in environments that may take advantage of that passion, at which point we can learn the hard way if we don’t consciously protect ourselves.

It’s me. I learned the hard way.

I gave up a management title because I had let my work run me into the ground. Well, that’s part of it; it’s a broad generalization for a series of unfortunate events, at my expense. Regardless, I let those things happen, and I kept my mouth shut because I understand the concept of paying your dues and proving yourself, ignoring the fact that I’d gone far beyond that; I had no time for myself, and no matter how many more hours I put in, the amount of work to do continued to increase. I was losing sleep. I was having anxiety attacks on the reg. I was throwing up every morning. In a job that I had worked so hard to attain and even harder to keep, I felt unsupported and unsatisfied, knowing what I was capable of accomplishing and feeling too tangled in the daily quota to do what I set out to do.

So here I am in a new role with the same company – and I find myself leaning into the same tendencies. It’s on a much smaller scale, but there have definitely been many days where I’ve worked 10-12 hours vs. the typical 8. Curse my sense of responsibility. In all seriousness, I’m trying to focus on dialing it back. There is so much I want to focus on both personally and professionally, outside of my current profession. Getting healthy takes time. Writing a book (or an essay, or a blog post!) takes time. Downsizing your stuff for cash takes time. While I’m still very serious and passionate about the work I do, I’m learning to develop and apply what I refer to as a healthy dose of apathy.

All my bosses and coworkers have preached to me for years the need to not work around the clock, that the work will still be there tomorrow, but I’ve cared too much about work and too little about myself to do that, which introduces about 100 other problems. So this ‘hapathy’ as I’ll refer to it is about being stricter with myself about my workday no matter the workload so I can focus on self-care and attaining other goals. Huh. Just coming to the realization that maybe that’s why I’ve always thrown myself into my work – to avoid myself. Yikes – anybody got a therapist they recommend?

So it’s Sunday, and instead of leaning into my usual funk and getting worked up and depressed about the work week, I’m trying something constructive. A year ago I picked up a book while I was on vacation. I travel to Lake Ozark every summer for what I call a free vacation; my mom has a conference, so I tag along and piggyback on her travel and hotel accommodations. They have this great overstock bookstore in the middle of the dying outdoor outlet mall, and I never spend less than $30 when I go there. In the middle of a table of books, I found The Quarter-Life Break-Through. Being 29 at the time, I said to myself, “Well, I’m probably more at a third-life at this point,” as I turned the book over in my hands to read the back cover. I almost choked on my spit when I read, “…fresh, honest, counterintuitive, and inspiring career advice for anyone stuck in a quarter-life crisis (or third-life crisis).” I bought the book simply because that was too coincidental to not mean something. But like every book I’ve purchased in the last three years, it sat on my shelf and collected dust. Today I picked it up and started reading, and I’m so glad I did. While I don’t exactly identify with the millennial set that isn’t focused on financial gain (I want to make money and should make money – I have a lot of skills, experience, and three degrees!), it’s certainly comforting to know that I’m not the only person in the thick of this feeling of being stuck and that it’s possible to come out on the other side.

Now that I’m 30 years old, it’s a fine time to redistribute my focus and get my house in order. Figuratively and literally.

Thanks for waiting with me.

 

chelseainwaiting