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A year ago I was signed off with work-related-stress. I had burnt out. It had taken at least two-years of work-place-bullying from two very bad managers before I finally hit that particular wall. I& #39;d been a lecturer for fifteen years. I managed one programme and co-directed (1/8)
another. I was also working on a PhD. I managed a team and I did more cross-curricular work in my department than anyone else. I& #39;m not saying this to big myself up. But, objectively, I was good at my job. I cared about the students and about my colleagues. I looked after (2/8)
my team. I happily collaborated with others, my staff feedback was always great and my student feedback averaged 95% in overall satisfaction. Two bad managers and two years. That is what it took. Two bad managers and two years to make me doubt that I was any good at all. (3/8)
Two bad managers and two years and I was burnt out and part of my mind whispered that it was my fault. I was off for six-months. I couldn& #39;t even read a book (I& #39;m still too scared to pick up a complex book, in case my brain can& #39;t cope). I taught creative writing and I (4/8)
couldn& #39;t summon the concentration to read a book! So I left. They paid me (a small amount) on the promise that I& #39;ll never sue. At one stage I would have left with nothing... so I was happy enough to go with something. And here I am. Still recovering in all honesty. Poorer (5/8)
(it was a well paid job). But happier. Much happier. And working for myself. Scary. But good. Time will tell. Why share this now? It was a year ago. And a year is... something. I can read books again - simple ones anyway... And I just saw a post by @inkphemeral about being (6/8)
