Go on social media, and you’ll see a thousand videos that make you laugh, cry, or cringe. Some gain their followers or reacts by being controversial. Some prefer to just produce comedy. Some are designed to help the world move in the direction the creator feels is beneficial for us. There’s always a video to find. There’s always a person behind the video’s creation. There’s always an audience that forgets about that person.
When I started my blog and YouTube channel in 2018 it was a way for me to get away from things going on in my life. They were rough, and not things I could change or control; so I chose to change my focus. I used my free time to focus on hobbies and art, and making videos from those. I used my weekend mornings (which were unfortunately very lonely) to write blog posts. It was phenomenal, because even under the weight of my problems I still managed to get up and do something that made me smile. I chose last year to only put things up when it suited me, because my life changed and posting all the time wasn’t feasible without giving a huge part of myself to the wants and needs of a social media audience. For this reason, my “brand” hasn’t gotten very popular. This is okay with me; I just want to do what I love and have fun with it. After all, this was my stress relief, not work.
My actions and choices aren’t the norm, as a lot of social media personalities choose to completely involve themselves with their channel or blog — to the detriment of their mental health. I thought about this two days ago as I watched a video from a popular video personality who makes down to earth mom-comedy. She talked about how she’s been stressed and spread thin; that her husband sent her to a hotel at night to get away from everything and just relax.
In our country it’s normal to expect a person to produce a product. Whether that product is entertainment, a service, or a usable good, we are all expected to be productive members of society. Your worth is only as good as the role you play, and that’s incredibly stressful. Don’t get me wrong, I think everyone should do something. It doesn’t seem right to sit around all day and do nothing at all; but it doesn’t have to be for the purpose of proving your worth. I think doing things simply because you love them has value. I believe going to a job every day because you love it, not because it helps more people, or saves lives, or makes the most money, is what brings happiness. Maybe that shines a light on my own values, but it certainly couldn’t hurt to consider. Because the alternative is a world where everyone does things they hate because they want to be valuable, where everyone is depressed and anxious because it’s impossible to be valuable to every person.
I’ve watched friends crumble under the pressure to match other’s expectations. I’ve listened to new college students emit waves of anxiety over making it through, whether school is something they want to endure or not. I’ve experienced my own anxiety over not being productive enough; in fact I worry so much about it that I’ve melded my hobbies into productive endeavors so that I can have productivity and stress relief in one nice little package. A real anxiety reducer…if you do it right (I don’t always do it right).
My housekeeping job has been incredibly fulfilling. I help patients get what they need each day, within the tasks I’m permitted to do without an STNA license. Some days I can make them laugh, or not feel so alone, or get them water and a blanket, or just keep their room clean so it feels a little bit nicer. It’s a job that’s worth doing, that needs doing. It’s a job that isn’t for everyone. The days are long; in my case it’s 10 hours at a time of cleaning patient rooms and function rooms. It’s a job that, if you use common sense and good time management, plus some good interpersonal skills, you can get through quickly and smoothly. It takes navigating patient preferences, surprise messes, and day to day changes, all while cleaning up the things that happen in a medical setting.
It can be gross. It can be tiring. It can be thankless. A lot of the time, however, I receive tons of thanks from patients and their families and our staff. The team I work with is supportive and adaptable, and our supervisor is excellent at her job. They’ve been my home away from home for over a year, and the housekeeping staff have been my work family for about 6 months.
I had planned to stay two years.
I wanted to be there for them after two years of 10 different trainees walking out on the job. Of not getting their vacations, and working understaffed in a field that isn’t exactly easy on the body. Life didn’t exactly agree with my plan. I put in around three weeks notice, and I’m trying my best to do a great job for all of it until I leave in mid-November. Part of me feels like a failure, the other part feels like this is the right decision.
Society tells me I should stay in this job, regardless of how that affects me or my family, because I’m producing a valuable service. My ideals tell me it’s time to go before I burn out trying to balance work and home life; I’m needed at home in so many ways.
I could go into all the detailed reasons I’m needed here, to cook, clean, do laundry, and provide support wherever I can because the people I love need it. I could go into the health reasons that the physicality of the job is taking its toll and I need to find something just slightly less rigorous. The job is a sprint, whereas I’m more of a slow marathon kind of woman. Three days of 10-hours in a row, sometimes four days, and then one or two days off to get the housework done just doesn’t work when you’re trying to get meals on the table each day, and the spaces you live in clean. Waking up at 4:30 AM, and then the next days waking up later for a different shift or a day to fit my family’s schedule, means my circadian rhythms are extremely off. My body is in a constant state of jet-lag.
If I had a different home life, if I was at a different point in my life, or if my body had just slightly more endurance, would mean I could easily continue working this way. For now, I need something different. I need a regular schedule that’s also either flexible, or within time frames that let me cover my responsibilities at home. Some people see this as a weakness, but I see it as a strength. If I find a job that fits well with the rest of my life I’ll be a more productive employee. I’ll be awake and alert, well nourished, and ready to take on new challenges each day. I won’t have the same level of stress that I do now. I won’t be worried about how I’m going to get it all done, because I know I’ve planned for my responsibilities, and a few surprises too.
I don’t want to be like the social media personalities who burn-out and need to get away at midnight. I don’t want to be that person who loses the important parts of themselves and their lives for a job, when there are easily alternatives which suit me better and companies I can be even more helpful to. I also don’t want my career to be the marker of my value. My health, to me, is the most important thing because if I lose it at 30 from burn-out then everything I’ve done will be for nothing anyway.
I want to be productive, I want to fit into society’s idea of valuable, I want to be that model employee. I also want to be a good girlfriend, a good daughter, a good friend and pet-owner. Someday, I want to be a good wife and mother who helps keep her family healthy. I want to be a good example to my children, who can look at me and see a mother who knows her limits, and balances her priorities in a healthy way. The thing that makes life great is the process from start to finish: what we do with this time, not how we end it. Money means nothing if I have to spend it all on medical bills. The approval of a company means nothing if I’ve alienated the people I love, focusing on work so much I forget to actually love them. Our lives are a balance, and sacrificing that balance feels more like failure to me than failing my original plan to make adjustments. Small failures help us grow, but if we fail to find balance in the process of our lives—that’s sometimes too large of a failure to come back from. I’m not afraid to fail, but I’d prefer it be in the ways that help me grow.