Whistle While You...What? Whaddya Mean I Don't Work???

I got my first job when I was 15. I've worked ever since. I learned very early that when you made your own money, you had a certain amount of freedom that couldn't be taken from you. I liked making my own way, and making my own rules. I had a need to do that at an early age. Ergo, the notion of college was left by the wayside. I bought a brand new car at 18, and moved into my first apartment at the same age. I was on my way.

I took a job in what was to become my career field at 21. It was an entry level clerical job, but I loved it. (I have always had a secret love of completing forms. Weird, huh?) I quickly worked my way through the ranks. In less than 20 years, I was in a high ranking regional management position for an international insurance company. (At least it was commercial products, not health insurance). Impressive only because I have high school diploma, whereas most people in lower ranking positions had degrees, many of them advanced degrees. I was very proud of myself. The work itself never really brought me much happiness over the years. There was just too much stress, too much pressure, real and perceived. I have a strong work ethic and am a perfectionist of the highest order. Good enough is not good enough.

Now, I am disabled. Whether temporary, long term, or permanently, remains to be seen. I don't understand what I am supposed to be doing. I'm lost without a job to do. (Sorry, being a stay-at-home mom and the idea of doing housework doesn't qualify). I don't know what to do with myself. I know I'm supposed to be recovering. I don't know how to do that. I know I'm supposed to set up some kind of structure for myself; I had to do that once before. It's coming slowly to me this time. I am overwhelmed and find it very hard to summon the will to do it. I find myself thinking more and more about going back to work.

I have to face it. My old job(s) made me sick. Literally. The stress slowly unravels me. It starts with one mistake, or being unable to answer one small question. Then I start feeling incompetent. Then I'm paranoid that I'm going to lose my job. I stop sleeping well. I get up later and later. I get to work late. I stop putting on make up. Then I fall apart. I'm leaving out a few symptoms, but you get the picture.

I think of going into a new field, but I'm not really qualified to do anything that would produce a steady income. I could retrain, but I wouldn't make enough money to afford the child care bills we'd have right now. That stumps me. I have no idea what I'd do anyway.

I realized today that I'm trying to skip steps by thinking about going back to work. Rather than doing the work to get (and keep) myself healthy, I want to create a false structure by working. I'd have to get up at a certain hour and go somewhere everyday. I wouldn't have to think about being Bipolar, I wouldn't have to do anything but take my meds and earn my money. I wouldn't have to think about all the things that overwhelm me. I could hide behind my title and wait for my next breakdown.

Been there, done that. Now what?