Get Well Soon

Is it getting better? Is it getting worse?

Before I get started, I will say that the playlist for this article really enhances the experience:

Taking a “sabbatical,” as Adrianne has reminded me to call this, creates a measure of anxiety. Fears exist as landmines scattered around your brain -

• What if Adrianne loses her job?

• What if you can’t get a new job?

• What if an emergency happens?

• What if?

• What If?

• WHAT IF?

I am not a person with an anxiety disorder, which is probably one of the few things that allowed me to function effectively in the world over the last three years. I am able to remind myself, what happens is going to happen. We prepared for the likeliest of scenarios.

Quitting your job is scary, even with another job lined up. Is the grass greener (almost always yes, you’re leaving for a reason)? Will they hold up their end of the bargain (…)? Will I finally find a place I am happy (batting .000 so far)? I’ve had friends go through periods of unemployment, both voluntary and involuntary. I’ve got a roadmap to follow and that helps a lot.

When is our debt to society paid? Automation continues to make labor hours more impactful and yet, we work harder than ever with no end in sight. Stagnating wages in my life time have created a myriad of problems - housing insecurity, medical debt, student loan debt, record burnout(!!!) and the loss of worker solidarity as people were forced into survival mode.

What if we’d kept up with that 4x wage growth we should have had to match productivity? Imagine if minimum wage was $26.82 - a little over 55k a year. That’s higher than the median income in Richmond, VA right now. And we’re currently inching our way to $15 an hour.

If you’re reading this, you probably already know a lot of that. Or at least are aware of our harsh economic realities because you DON’T get paid enough for the work you do. Unless you own your business or are a top level executive, then you probably make way more than you actually generate vs your reports.

This is all a preamble to what inspired me today. I was prepared for the anxiety. I was prepared for a bout of depression. A range of emotions that I expected as I processed this life change. I was not, however, prepared for the overwhelming survivor’s guilt.

“Survivor’s guilt is a response to an event in which someone else experienced loss but you did not. While the name implies this to be a response to the loss of life, it could also be the loss of property, health, identity or a number of other things that are important to people.”

It started to creep in when I gave my notice. More profound when I started talking to team members. Co-workers. Even people I reported to. I felt guilty that I was able to take a year away from work. I have worked very, very hard to create this opportunity for myself, sure. There’s a time period in American history where that would be a valid, almost unquestionable (except for that whole generational wealth built on slave labor), reason to take some time away from work.

As I looked at these people, all I could see were people who didn’t have a way out. People that also have been working 60+ hours a week. People that didn’t have the resources I did. People that can’t even dream of making the money that I made because that life is gated away from them. Heaven forbid they considered having children, it’s no wonder birth rates are the lowest in 40 years and declining.

Medical debt, school loans, the need for health insurance, rising rent and inflation impacting every facet of life means people are trapped in a cycle of poverty just to exist. Take rent for example, the Greater Richmond area has seen an increase of $123 a month. That means an hourly worker would need $1 more an hour just to keep up with that rate.

That weighs heavy on a person. In this case, the person is me. The response to my decision has been overwhelmingly positive. My friends celebrate the decision. My family has been supportive. My co-workers were kind and gracious, even as some expressed their envy.

Yet the shame persists. The nagging voice in my head telling me that I have abandoned my team. That I haven’t done my duty to the people I helped mentor. That I might be disposable to the company but I’m not to the people who relied on me. I heard the fear in some voices, the anxiety and doubt. I suddenly understood the inner turmoil of a solider leaving a war on a deeply personal level.

I asked my wife once, when we were in the middle of the decision, if me continuing to work when I didn’t need to was greedy. She said she wasn’t ready for that conversation. Fair, I’m still not sure if I’m prepared to answer that question myself. It does linger in my mind and I suppose it is one of the two wolves waging war inside me currently.

Am I greedy for wanting a more comfortable life when others are struggling to survive? And yet, I just left all those people alone in the hell that is the modern American workplace. American culture is insidious. I don’t think I’m being greedy and I definitely needed the time to unwind. I’m using this time to create - for myself for once.

I have been writing music. I have been writing words. Making social media content. All of it with no expected reward or engagement. Just to have a place to create. To empty my head a little bit. To find some measure of joy in life. And if I carve out a niche, great! If not, I still got some valuable experience. I got to hone some crafts. I may have developed a skill enough to incorporate it into my working life.

I’ve spent my whole life selling myself. My time, my mind, my body, my creations. All a commodity. You must pay me or my time was wasted. The stress to be a success. I could never really enjoy being in a band, despite knowing that I listen to very niche genres of music, because I NEEDED to be a success. I couldn’t find the joy in just making music I loved with people I loved.

Austin Lucas talked a lot about this at a show recently. It resonated hard. I’m pretty sure I cried while he was talking. He talked about how capitalism encourages you to win at all costs. It creates a competitive environment in what should be a collaborative one. Art is a tool to help us cope, but also to express. To connect with other people.

I recently really got into the band Weatherbox. On their last album, there is a song called “Bathin’ in the Fuss.” The song details Brian Warren’s struggles with capitalism and art, one line in particular really landed-

So smash me with bottles, make sure they're Molotov
and sue me for thinking Weatherbox was worth a shot.

I took for granted the people who listened to our music. I couldn’t truly appreciate the connection they had made with us because it was never enough. I couldn’t believe that people liked us, because not ENOUGH people liked us. Despite the countless bands I adore that existed in much that same space.

So what do I want to do? I’m hopeful I can use the leg up I’ve gotten to make the world better. I don’t know what that looks like, but I know it’s what I’m going to try to find.