Anxious About Returning to Work

Well, tomorrow is my first day back to work after almost 12 weeks of short-term medical disability. I had only been working in my new job for approximately two-and-a-half months. I am afraid that I will not remember how to do my job. This is a high-stress work environment and I have a lot of high-profile clients that I serve. I am not sure I am ready for this.

Last week my psychiatrist faxed in a request so that my first two weeks back be half-days only. The disability group is scheduled to review that and decide today. I sure hope they approve this request. I have also left a voicemail with my manager requesting that my work schedule be shifted a tad earlier in the day so that I will be working 0700-1530 (not that I have ever only worked eight-hour days). In reality, this time around I am not planning to work any overtime. Working all those extra hours before set me up for my eventual downfall (aside from the very important fact that I went off my meds). I have not heard back from him yet; I hope he agrees to my request. Being able to be off the clock by 1530 will give me the chance to accommodate any doctors’ appointments I may have.

I am looking over at my corporate laptop which has been turned off for all of this time. I am even anxious about booting it up. Not that the laptop will not boot, but I wonder if all my access passwords into the network have been changed since I have been out all this time. I have to have access in order to be able to work from home so I can VPN into the network. I remember what all my passwords are, but they all have time limits on them. Some are only good for 90 days.

I am not even sure how to begin my workday. I ordinarily receive anywhere from 150-300 emails a day. I cannot even fathom how many unread emails are in my account. That thought alone has my hands shaking. Just as I was starting my disability time off, my department was being reorganised and eventually was slotted to be under a new management chain. My manager is still my manager, but the food chain on up from there changed above his level. I hope I am not in for any nasty surprises when I return (meaning I hope I still have a job). I know that my job has been protected while out on FMLA, but that doesn’t mean they can’t come back to me as soon as I get back and say to me, “Oh yeah, Alix, while you were gone we eliminated your position. Thanks and have a nice day.”

I have left another voicemail this morning for my manager to call me back at some point today. I hope he is in. Chances are, he may have taken a few vacation days before the New Year during the time I left my previous voicemail; I need to talk to him today before I report back tomorrow. That is the downside to working remotely from home. My team is located all over the country. The only communication we have is via phone calls and email.

Well, I have planned out my day today to reorganise my office space back to the way it was before I took all this time off. I am also planning on reviewing all of my training notes to have everything fresh in my mind before tomorrow. I woke up this morning at 0430 and am already feeling tired. This does not bode well for my sleep patterns the rest of the week. I hope I can sleep a more work amenable schedule tonight.©2009

Paralysis

I can’t explain this sudden, overwhelming, heart-gripping panic that I am riddled with right this very minute. I was in the other room, sitting on my sofa drinking tea when I noticed the time: 1935. It’s Sunday evening. In less than 12 hours, I will be at work. I can’t do this. I can’t log on and open my email for fear of what is waiting for me. The requests, the questions, my clients wanting all of me all at the same time. I don’t know what I am doing. I can’t answer their questions. There is so much expected of me: project deadlines—everything becoming due all at the same time. The details, the minutiae—my desk is piled so high with stacks of minutes from meetings: actions items required of me, follow-up details I am responsible for. I can’t do this any more. I have a training class all day on Tuesday to complete my Six Sigma Yellow Belt requirement consisting of four separate courses, each to be completed with an 80% passing score (with only 10 questions each made of “choose the best answers of the following…” format meaning I can only miss two on each) followed with a final exam of 25 equally-formatted questions again at a pass rate of 80%. There is too much fucking crap all hitting me at the same time. I can’t breathe. I’m afraid to go to sleep knowing that, in the blink of an eye, I will face what terrifies me the most. I can’t do this job. I don’t know what the hell I am doing. Everything is going to blow up in my face. It’s now 1947. I can’t stop time. Tomorrow is coming, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. Oh, my God, what the fuck is happening to me? Where is this terror coming from? I can’t move…©2009