Back to Work.

Fixit went back to work today. He's had one month off on annual leave after that first week of stress leave, and I think he has gradually relaxed into someone more like the Fixit we know and love. He's had two sessions with a counsellor which focussed on him realising the difference between the external (ie the work and TAFE situation) and the internal (the way he felt and thought about the work and TAFE situation). They talked about him not feeling that he had to be on top of it all and giving himself permission to be just the apprentice, to be the one who just learns stuff instead of the one who knows stuff. And of trying to think kindly about himself and to himself; less of the I shoulds.., I suppose. I should earn more, I should own a house, should, should, should.

Last night as he moved around the house readying himself for the 6.30am start I could almost see the mantle of stress, like a physical weight, settle on his shoulders. I could hear a familiar ugly note in his voice again, something I've not heard in 5 weeks. He was not shouting but the timbre of his voice changed, as if the stress had grabbed him round the vocal cords leaving him with a more guttural tone. It made me feel weary and defeated for a moment there.

I texted this morning and his 6.30am start was a waste of a good sleep-in. He was not actually rostered on to any crew, so in the end they told him to join the crew starting at 10am. Which couldn't start earlier because it was waiting for the plane to arrive. Fixit told me he was doing the crossword while he waited.

He was supposed to attend a "roster meeting" at 9.30am today in response to the letter we sent 2 months ago requesting regular day shifts. They'd rung 2 weeks ago to inform him of the meeting and were mildly flummoxed to learn he was on annual leave and couldn't attend the meeting time they'd scheduled. A case of the left hand not knowing what the right hand is doing, we think. They re-scheduled for the first day of his return, but somehow even that level of organisation was too much for them and he must now wait till Wednesday morning. Late last week the roster girl rang and said he'd only be doing day-shift for the duration of his second year of the apprenticeship. I took the call because Fixit was at a counselling session and neglected to ask the all-important question about whether day-shift meant weekends. So we are still up in the air. *edited to add that he and the other apprentices have been promised Monday - Friday day shifts, hurrah And the other apprentices thanked him today for that.

As we drove to a picnic on Sunday morning Fixit was already sinking into gloom and made a comment (that I don't recall now) which showed that he can't think AT ALL positively about his working life. So I gently said something along the lines that his natural tendency was to see the worst of any situation and that he needed to remind himself of the good things in his life. That we have a roof over our heads, food in our mouths, two terrific, healthy and happy little boys, each other. I can't help it, I am Pollyanna. After I'd run through a little list of good things about our life, my lovely Climber chirped up from the back-seat: And you have lovely friends too, Daddy. He even went on to name them. And Cherub, not to be outdone, said and you have a nice motorbike.