Yesterday was my first day back to work after a brief
vacation. It was tough. After enjoying the freedom of being home with
my kids for the better part of week, I found myself broken and torn about going
back to the job that I was at one time so thankful for and really enjoyed.
I work for a mid-sized public accounting firm that
specializes in business and partnership taxation. Our clients are complex with multiple
entities. This work is challenging and I
have enjoyed the sense of accomplishment that comes with working at a higher
bandwidth. However, the rigidity of my
supervisors, the lack of flexibility within my work place and the demands of
long hours during tax season have been brutal and very hard on my family. We are about to start our 2nd “tax
season” of the year as the firm extends approximately 80% of their
workload. With deadlines of September 15
and October 15 looming, I have to start preparing for 70-80 hour work weeks
once again.
I had a somewhat lengthy conversation with a colleague that
left me disheartened and perplexed. One of the points of discussion was that of
one’s purpose in life. I’ve thought
about this so much and am still trying to discover what this might be for me. I do however know that my purpose is NOT that
of preparing tax returns for the next 25 years . . .
Throughout various stages of my recovery, I have often posed
the question of why I lived. My story
could have turned out so differently and, I don’t for one minute believe that
our family tragedy and the road to recovery were for naught. However, I can’t
seem to figure out how to turn this into a something meaningful. Don’t get me wrong, I have plenty of ideas,
but the problem is that of execution.
Some of these ideas are as follows:
§
To be an advocate for the
extended family members of those with mental health issues;
§
To assist caregivers in
providing resources that would assist them in navigating the mental health
system;
§
To work on fostering
collaborative efforts between mental health professionals and law enforcement
in an effort to reduce and hopefully prevent more tragedies;
§
To share my story in a
positive way that brings support, encouragement and hope to those who have
faced a horrific tragedy in their own life.
And, what if there was a foundation that could support all
of the issues addressed above and through fundraising efforts, provide the
resources necessary to assist in research and development with respect to drug
therapy. It’s true that mental health
awareness has greatly improved over the last several years but we there is so
much work yet to be done.
One of my dearest friends has counseled me on patience. She tells me that in due time and once the
dust settles, I will figure out how to organize my thoughts and I will figure
out a plan of execution. Perhaps this
tiny blog is the first step in that process and the beginning of a journey to discover
my life’s purpose . . .
Stephanie, by sharing your story you can achieve all of the above. Keep writing and find quiet time to be inspired and be guided.
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