“What do you want to be when you grow up?” The question you’re asked again and again. As a child. As a teenager. Sometimes even as an adult. Sometimes the question is asked harmlessly and with no ill intent, but over time the pressure behind this question rapidly increases and no longer is it a harmless question you’re asked as a child, it’s a question that can potentially shape the rest of your life - but is it too much?
I don’t remember what I wanted to be as a child, but I vividly remembering throughout high school the pressure of making a career choice was constantly in my face. My future “depended” on the subjects I chose, the choices I made and how well I performed in school. I was pretty determined to study medical science. I wanted to be a doctor. I knew from a young age that my grades weren’t high enough and I would never make the ATAR requirement. The way I saw it was that I knew I wasn’t smart enough and I didn’t have the natural ability to just buckle down, study hard and go for gold, so I consciously set my standards a little lower and let that dream fizzle out.
I remember discussing careers, I remember knowing deep down I would never be the person I wanted to be. No matter how much I put into it, no matter how hard I tried there was just some things I would never understand. But at such a young age how did I know this was what I would want in the future? How did I know if this was what I wanted? At the age of 16 you’re honestly thinking about few things;
1. are they talking about me?
2. are my nipples normal?
3. why wasn’t I invited to that sleepover?
Now I am sure these weren’t your exact thoughts as a 16 year old, but they were definitely some of mine. Constantly concerned about my image, what people thought of me and what people were saying about me.
The overwhelming pressure I felt throughout subject selections was almost unbearable. I wanted to choose subjects I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle, but I couldn’t. I also hated high school at this point, so decision making became a war with myself and guidance from school was non existent. It was a ‘here’s a brochure on the schools subjects, good luck!’ - bullshit right? I had no idea what I wanted to do. As the years went on I felt less and less in control, but I felt more pressure than ever to know exactly where I was going. For me, just making it through the school year was an achievement. Showing up at school each day was hell. I hated every moment.
As high school wasn’t a pleasant experience for me, my options became slimmer and slimmer as I got older. I started to lapse in attendance and I no longer had the energy to give my all. I became quite ill around 17 years old. I had glandular fever and my health had always been pretty shit, so it really took its toll on me. My mental health also had spiralled. Mid way through year 11 it all became too much and I left school. When you’re brutally broken, sick and mentally unstable, high school is not a safe place. It is a prison. It holds traumatic memories mixed with ill emotions. It is the last place you want to be.
I was just a kid. I didn’t know who I was or where I wanted to be. I just wanted the pain I felt inside to go away. I wanted girls to stop treating each other like shit. I wanted simplicity and direction and I had none of these things. Instead I had psychiatrist appointments, antidepressants and anti anxiety meds. Perfect.
I never went back to school to finish, I moved home to live with my parents and tried my luck in a few different things. It sucked.
At age 18 I found Veterinary Nursing. I took a random leap of faith and dove straight into it. I felt as though this was one of the things I could actually do. I had left school and this was basically one of the only options I had, not to mention my love for animals. I worked my way through placement for a while and I found my feet very quickly. I loved it. Every single day was something different. It was exciting and new and kept me on my toes. I loved how much I learnt every single day. I loved the way it made me feel like I was important and I felt like when I told people what I did for a living, it was impressive. They were impressed. I remember countless conversations involving people telling me how much respect they had for veterinary professionals. It made me feel whole. My initial goal was to complete my Veterinary Nursing Degree and then move onto Veterinary Medicine. I always felt this underlying pressure to succeed and push further. The nurse title didn’t feel like enough for me. I wanted more, but life circumstances didn’t allow this to happen. Veterinary Nursing full time became my life. Every day, I went to work, I did my job and most days I felt okay but I started to sense a feeling that became extremely difficult to shake.
Compassion fatigue. Two words that are not commonly used in your usual day to day talk. These words slowly became clearer in my mind as my nursing journey went on. I started to feel weight on my shoulders every now and then, I felt tired and occasionally I felt emotions I couldn’t control. I would leave work, get in my car and burst into tears. I would blame it on a sad case we had that day, but little did I know deep down I was slowly starting to burn out.
The best way I can describe Veterinary Nursing is like this - you keep giving and giving, from a place in your own heart, and every time you give, a small portion of your heart is taken away, but the portion that has been taken away, never gets replaced. You are constantly running on empty. Empty mind, empty heart, empty. Work life balance is not possible. You are told to leave your work at the door when you walk out of the hospital, but how can you possibly do this when your entire being is about loving and caring for your patients? How can you possibly go home and not think about them? It never stops. Your mind never stops.
Nursing brought me so much joy for so long, but the negatives ultimately outweighed the positives. I find it so interesting that there isn’t more articles online about how hard this career is. No one talks about it and unless you have someone in your life that is or was a veterinary nurse, you coudln’t possibly understand. You don’t get any credit for what you do, your pay is shit and your work conditions are poor. I remember there was a period of time where I was writing down in my phones notes section horrible things clients had said to me. Sometimes I could have a few entries for just one shift. Sometimes I only had one entry for a few weeks. But the impact these clients had on me was so large that I felt the need to write it down to properly process it. I cannot even begin to tell you the countless names I have been called by clients, the list would never end. There was so many times I would put the phone down after a difficult conversation with a client and feel a wave of anxiety rush over me. I had been personally victimised by clients, I had been screamed at, I had things thrown at me, I had my photo taken by angry clients who were telling me they would destroy my reputation - most of the time the clients were angry at me was because of costs, something I had absolutely no control over. Something I couldn’t change or fix. I cannot even begin to tell you how many times I had clients tell me they had no money to treat their animal, they would tell me they stopped taking their own medication so they could afford the animals treatment, they would tell me they couldn’t make this weeks rent and would be kicked out of their home, I had clients tell me they had nothing left, I had clients tell me they had no family to support them, they had no one to call or get help from, I had clients tell me they were suicidal. I spent countless hours on the phone trying to organise ways to get them help for their animal, but sometimes there was simply nothing more I could do. Occasionally when I told clients there was nothing more I could do to assist them, they would become aggressive and hostile, taking it out on me personally and making me feel guilty for not having a solution. It was brutal.
6 years of this sent me spiralling. I could no longer attach emotions to my work and the love I had always felt for nursing slowly disappeared. Most days, going to work felt like a chore. On the way to my shift I would prepare myself for what kind of shit show I would be walking into that day. I was no longer able to maintain speed and focus in what I was doing, my mind would constantly wander. Exhaustion got the better of me. I would call my mum on the way home from work sometimes. It went from an excited and passionate young woman who felt on top of the world, to a sobbing, burnout and painful “I hate my job”.
When you are pushing yourself beyond your limits for so long, its inevitable to lose sight of the journey you’re on and who you really are. I felt this immense amount of pressure to please those around me, to impress people I hardly knew. The Veterinary Nurse title made me feel powerful. It made me feel secure and accomplished. But I hated it.