Monday, January 3, 2022

2021, The Year I Almost Drowned

 


It's the time of year that many of us take some time to reflect back on the year that was, and think about the things that brought us joy, the times we struggled, and how we ended up where we did when it was all said and done.

I've had a few weeks off work to ponder many things, and while we are only a few days into the new year, I feel like I have to set my intentions right now. I'm not going to lie, it's not an easy thing to do when I don't even know what direction I am going. It's even harder to look to the future after having what was undoubtedly one of the most difficult years I have had in a long time. 

I have a tendency to get scared when good things are coming my way. I live with the idea that the other shoe will inevitably drop. Blame it on anxiety, blame it on the occurrences of this happening throughout my life, blame it on self-sabotage, or blame it on a multitude of other ridiculous thoughts that run through my mind. The fact of the matter is, I get scared regardless of where I place the blame.

I rolled into 2021 knowing that there were going to be some significant challenges, but I didn't know it would be a year that could have easily sunk me, and almost did. I was starting a new job in a new career field after twenty-five years doing something else. I was designing and building a program from the ground up, learning about event planning, logistics, talking to loads of people I didn't know and making big asks of them, calling state agencies all over the country trying to make sense of the many different regulations in each state, scheduling events, canceling events, vetting mentors, vetting hosts, sending invoices, issuing refunds, answering non-stop emails all hours of the day and night, hitting non-stop roadblocks, keeping non-stop frustrations from turning into meltdowns, working alone, almost 1,100 miles from my co-workers, who often met face-to-face, and working for a minimal salary. 

Like I said, challenges. Add a completely unexpected addition to our family with the cutest dog on the planet, who just happens to have some challenges of his own, and we have ourselves a real party. 

Buddy, the little lost dog who stole my heart.

I believed in the mission that was my job, at least initially. It was only six months earlier that I was trying to figure out how I could start a non-profit to build out workshops to teach people what it meant to be a hunter. It was only six hours before I was offered the job, that I was sitting in a deer blind after mentoring a new hunter the night before, daydreaming of a way to turn what I was doing into a career. Imagine my shock when I was given the chance to do just that, that very same day. I kept trying to figure out if there was another shoe and what may cause it to drop, but finally, I just decided to take my chances and accept the position. 

Without going into many details or disparaging anyone for why I walked away from what I thought was my dream job, I will just say this; it simply wasn't the right fit for me, for a multitude of reasons.

I surprisingly made that realization early in the year, specifically after learning that the idea of a non-profit model, grant applications, eliminating barriers, and truly making the program accessible for "everyone", had shifted to a "pay" model, one I wasn't comfortable with, nor believed was right. I struggled to plead my case in a way that would change my employer's mind, after all, this was new to all of us, we truly were building the airplane while we were flying it, as one of my co-workers would always say. I just knew that in the pit of my stomach, I felt uncomfortable. Turns out, that feeling would grow as time progressed, and take me down a road I had never travelled and never want to travel again. 

If you know me very well at all, I think it's fairly easy to see that I have a passion for taking new hunters to the woods. I have said many times that I feel like I owe the outdoors so much for what it has given me in the way of  helping me heal from years of trauma, in building me back up to the very best version of myself, and for giving me a purpose in this life I never would have imagined. I have also said many times, both privately and publicly, that I will take anyone hunting if they genuinely want to go. No strings attached. 

Colby, waiting for a whitetail

However, the new found "strings" that were attached to doing so as part of my job, caused me the most anguish. This was the proverbial shoe that was dropping and I couldn't stop it. 

Imposter syndrome is when you are afraid that people are going to find out that you are a fraud, like you don't really know what you're doing, and you got to where you are by dumb luck. I have talked about suffering from imposter syndrome in the past, but this was something different, this was real.

I started having trouble sleeping back in May. It wasn't due to the stress of building a worthy education curriculum, or trying to find gracious landowners who would host us for events so I could continue to schedule into the fall and winter seasons. I mean, it could have been due to those things, but it wasn't, those things were just part of the job. This was way more personal than that. It was because I really was a fraud. I was promoting something that I didn't believe in. I was selling my soul for $375 a week salary, and it was killing me on the inside.

I read a post on Instagram recently, it was from one of those self-care type pages I follow, and it was a picture showing a list of things that could indicate you are depressed. After all of the things I have dealt with in my life, I never once considered myself depressed. Anxious, yes, depressed, never. At least not until that moment, or so the list suggested. It mentioned things like withdrawing from friends and family, loss of interest in things you enjoy, change in sleep patterns, re-watching the same movies or television shows over and over because they bring comfort, etc. I can honestly say I could put a big green check mark next to all of those I just listed.

I stopped answering phone calls from friends, I never wanted to leave the house, I stopped taking care of myself, I didn't go hiking, I didn't go fishing, I didn't work out, I barely even hunted this year. I feel like I have a personal relationship with Paul and Prue from The Great British Baking Show due to how many times I had the same episodes playing in the background while I worked. I was so consumed with my job and how conflicted I was about how that job was making me feel, that I didn't know what to do with myself. I could see what was happening to me, but for whatever reason I couldn't pull myself out of it. 

The weird part of it all, is that as a result, I worked even harder, because I thought if I did my job well enough, if I gave the attendees that very best experience possible and sent them home feeling like their lives had changed in a significant way, it would justify me sticking it out. It would help me look past the intense feelings of guilt I had every time I posted a new event that, due to the price tag, was alienating the very people I thought I would be helping when I signed on for this gig. My hard work didn't justify a damn thing, it just made me more resentful.

I recorded a handful of podcasts this year that I refuse to listen to, because while on them, I spent a good portion of time talking about how great these events were and why people should attend. Don't get me wrong the events were in fact great experiences, but that wasn't where the issue was for me. The last podcast I recorded, I specifically asked the host if we could NOT talk about my job or what I do for a living.  I just couldn't stomach talking about it anymore. She was gracious enough to have me on the podcast anyway and we ended up having a discussion that was way more meaningful to me in the big picture.

I worked every day during my early October hunting trip to Wyoming with Chance, and believe me, he is still pissed about that and he has every right to be. I'm pissed that I did it. That is supposed to be our time, but I responded to every email, every voicemail, sent invoices, and gave updates on Slack, rather than completely "checking out" the way I should have. I needed that break, and I didn't take advantage of it, I regret that. 

By the time I made my way to Montana, the first week of November, I made a decision that I was going to check out this time, because at that point I had already decided I was going to quit my job. I debated going to Montana at all, Chance had been laid off and my miniscule salary did very little to keep us afloat. Chance insisted I go, I think by then he realized I was at my breaking point and seeing a few of my Montana friends may do me some good. I barely had the money to drive to Montana in the first place and once there, I was sleeping in my truck, eating snacks for my meals, and praying I had enough money to get back to Indiana. 

Eastern Montana block management area, November 3rd, 2021 

Most all of my friends canceled their trip to Eastern Montana that week, due to life events that couldn't be avoided, so I was alone for much of the three days I spent there, chasing mule deer. I was insanely disappointed the plans had fallen apart, but the time alone gave me the clarity and the courage I needed to walk away from something that I was never going to agree with, no matter how hard I tried. 

So that's what I did. But first, I worked extremely hard to get everything ready for the remaining events. I had poured everything I had into making these experiences the best they could be for people who dished out a ton of money to attend. I may not have liked what I was doing, but I was still going to do it well. I didn't attend the December events after learning my dad was having some health issues, but I had every intention of going to both of them, I was committed to working until the end. I prepared everything for the January events so all anyone had to do was show up, I also made and submitted notes on how to finish the last few tasks hanging out there. There were a few challenges that would have needed to be handled for one of the camps, but it could be done. In the end, I was unable to complete my commitment of staying through December 31st, but that was not my choice. 

So it's over. The other shoe dropped, I picked them both up, slipped them on, and walked away.  

I have no idea what is next. As I sit here I am awaiting a phone call to tell me whether or not I was chosen for a position with a non-profit organization here in Indiana. I want the job, I really do. I didn't meet the requirements that were listed on the job description, but I applied anyway. I figured after the hurdles I have overcome over that last year, I could battle through and do this job very well. I am one of three finalists, but even if I don't get the call I am hoping for, it's not going to crush me. I did the very best I could do, I'm proud of that. 

I also did the very best I could do for the other employer. I drank from a firehouse for about twelve months and while I almost drowned, I resurfaced at just the right time. 

My intentions are pretty simple moving forward into 2022 and beyond. I will always stick to what I believe in, regardless of what opportunities I may lose along the way. I will make sure I am compensated equal to what I am worth, I know my value and I will never work for pennies on "good faith" ever again. I will care for myself, and get back to doing the things I love. I will give my family my undivided attention when I am "off the clock", and trust me, there will be a clock. I'll continue to take new hunters to the woods, and there will never be strings (or a price tag) attached.

A friend recently told me that he had hopes that after I have time to reflect on this last year, that I would find there was a "net gain", rather than a "net loss". I realize that there was indeed a net gain, I learned so much about so many things, and I have come to the conclusion that all of the knowledge I am walking into 2022 with, will help me succeed in whatever I decide to do next. I also met some amazing humans at our events, and I was incredibly fortunate to join some of them on their very first hunt. Those relationships and those memories made the hardest parts of the last year, just a little bit easier. 

To those folks, I say thank you and I hope to see you in the woods again someday.  

My last event, Wisconsin, Oct. 2021