I realized last night that it has been a year since I left Girl Scouts. J asked me how I felt about it, and it go tme thinking. My first thought (and the thought that always comes to mind when I talk to folks who are still there) is one of being thankful I left. The council has roughly half the staff it had a year ago; many of whom left on their own, but many who were downsized. Of course, the workload has not decreased, so those left behind are even more overworked and still underpaid. Then, my second thought was how long this year has been. Maybe because I've documented most of it on a daily basis, or maybe because I actually took the time to notice most of it, but I wished away the last months of Girl Scouts, and I've not had to do that this year.
A quick review of my facebook statuses from the weeks surrounding the decision to leave reminded me how I felt about my job before I left. Phrases like "a weight has lifted" and "Sunday night anxiety" crop up. I realized that I've not felt that weight (a physical pressure on my breastbone that settled in particularly as I turned onto Fortune Drive, a mile or so from the office) in a year. I've not been that anxious about going anywhere.
What a terrible thing to voluntarily put oneself through. And what an amazing thing to set oneself free.