The following is a post I wrote several months ago but have been hesitant to post publicly. Partly because I don’t want to seem ungrateful for a job when so many are searching for work, but more because there are people at my work that I didn’t really want to read this. There are some scary stories about people losing their jobs due to things they’ve posted on the internet. However, this is something that has been on my heart for awhile, and I know that thru writing and putting my heart out there, there is healing. I’ve revised the post a bit and feel that I should share it.

I have grown increasingly frustrated at my job. For reasons I have had a hard time pinning down, feelings of discontentment and the overwhelming “I don’t care anymore” mentality have invaded my brain. Part of this is simply that I need some substantial time off, but I think it runs deeper than that. Even with a week off, I think I would return slightly rested, only to be run down once again by the same frustrations.

On the surface, I have an incredible job. I work with a fantastic company that cares about it’s employees. I work 30 hours and it’s considered full time. I have benefits, including paid vacation, vision insurance, and a 401K of some sort. I work with incredible people who pitch in to help when you need it and who are loads of fun to be around. My boss and I have grown increasingly close over the two years that we’ve worked together and we work really well together. We have more than surface value conversations about work; we talk about real issues. We have conversations about life, faith, serenity, growth in marriage, and we laugh a lot. I have a great job.

When I began working there two years ago and was able to utilize my music knowledge there, I was excited but overwhelmed as well. I realized how much music therapy would come in handy and lamented that I never pursued that degree. I learned as I went, and tried to apply music as best as I knew how, by giving residents a musical outlet with the tone chime choir, and giving them a bright spot to their day with my clumsy little sing-along. Although I wished I had more knowledge to offer them, they seemed grateful for what I could give.

As I’ve continued in the job, I’ve realized how wise the decision to not pursue a music therapy degree was. I don’t think I could do this full time for the rest of my life. I believe one of my problems in my job is that I have let the surroundings drain me emotionally. Although far from a nursing home and filled with many life pursuing, independent living and inspiring seniors, there is still a sense of discouragement lingering in the air. Many seniors simply give up when their bodily functions do. I have day after day struggled to make headway with the same people who have simply forgotten the encouraging victory they made the day before. They might have come in and participated in and had a great time in an activity yesterday, but today, well, they simply cannot see and there is no way they can do that same activity. The discouragement seeping from their pores makes it’s way over to me, and some days I simply throw up my hands and wonder why I even try.

Another frustration has been watching dementia slowly claim more and more victims. I hate dementia and Alzheimer’s with a passion, after watching the disease rob me of the grandmother I knew and loved dearly. I have watched as residents who used to be quick witted and so spry struggle to remember words. Some residents have changed from sweet grandmothers to nasty, crotchety old people, and I know that (in most cases) dementia is the only one to blame. It’s difficult to watch people slip away.

I have returned home more nights than most totally drained. I used to come home with enough energy to get dinner ready, start on some housework, then engage in some creative activity, but recently I feel like all I do is collapse on the couch and stare at the TV in a stupor. I arrive home feeling like I have nothing left to give the world.

Drew talked me through one particularly frustrating day, and helped me put words to feelings I couldn’t quite express. He stated that I might be feeling frustrated because I felt that this is where God wanted me, and yet didn’t feel He was equipping me with what I needed for the job. He also stated that it was hard for me, as the big-hearted, overly emotional woman I am, to find a good balance between loving on the residents and not getting too emotionally involved and too attached. Bingo. I don’t think I could have said it better myself. In fact, I know I couldn’t, cause I’ve tried.

I love my seniors, and am grateful for what this job has taught me. I am praying through what to do with this. Although it seemed music therapy would have been a good major choice for a time, I’m finding that perhaps I knew best back then when I pursued a different music degree.