Last post I talked about the weekend I just spent on the couch, binge-watching and crocheting, as I took it very easy in case of a vaccination reaction. I said it reminded me of the last time I did something similar, when I was off on stress leave, about 8 years ago.

It was a combination of an awful round of redundancies, really disorganised implementation of change by the university, work overload, impossible timetabling – and – it turned out, calculated understanding on the part of the employer that a number of us would crumble in the environment being created.

While on summer holiday I had been contacted and told to apply for my own job again, along with every other academic in my school, because the entire university academic workforce was in a process of – I kid you not – “re-shaping”. We knew something was about to happen, but no-one at my level was really prepared for what, when or the timeline.

When the axe finally fell, about 1/3 of academic staff finished up the Thursday before first semester started. Those of us left needed extra help for our teaching load, but by the third week of semester, all the contracts for extra staff were still “stuck on X’s desk”.

This was after weeks of people not knowing whether they had jobs, rumours of the excellent people who were being dumped, and the hunger-games competitions between academics vying for the single available position in the department where they were already employed. Those of us who had jobs by the end were slack-jawed with disbelief and survivor guilt, looking around at empty seats of excellent colleagues.

I was told the Friday before unit outlines were due that I was teaching an extra unit and had to prepare material for that, and work out how to balance it with my already over-capacity workload. I was away at an interstate conference at the time, and had to complete this in between attending sessions and meeting up with colleagues, even though I had double-checked with my head of department that there was nothing more I needed to do to prepare for the semester before I left Perth.

Timetabling refused to move my on campus teaching times, so every Tuesday morning I delivered a lecture in one unit at 10am, ran to another building to give a lecture in a unit scheduled immediately after that at 11am, then ran back to the first building to take a two hour tute at midday in the first subject.

By about Week 3, I stood in front of the second class and gave a well-researched, informative and structured lecture. At the end, one lovely and polite student raised their hand and told me that it was actually NEXT week’s material.

Then the newly-installed TurnItIn software stopped all students from checking their first assessment pre-submission and they were really, really upset and barraging me with email…. and the first marking deadline happened, with over 100 students and no marker contract approved yet… I just crumpled. I came into work one day, sat in my office, and kept crying. The more I tried to do anything, the harder I cried.

A lovely colleague walked me to the campus counselling service. There I was given a lot of useful advice and – THIS is the bit that still strikes me about the situation – a pre-prepared booklet for academics who had gone through the same process and had the same reaction. The university EXPECTED that some of us would end up in this state, and had a glossy brochure prepared.

The worst part was knowing that my colleagues, who were also under the same stress, would have to pick up for me when I dropped my bundle. I was unsure what to do, but knew I needed time out, so just went to my GP to get a sick note, made sure I had an appointment with a psychologist, and then headed home and gave myself timeout on the sofa, binge watching Downton Abbey for a week. The idea was just to circuit-break and stop thinking about work, and rest. I ended up taking a second week off because I was still too shaky to go back to work, and spent some time alone at a Bed and Breakfast in the hills, bushwalking and exploring the township.

I also had a lot happening in my family life that stretched my coping skills beyond what was in the tank anyhow, so part of my problem was that I knew I was already doing everything I could to deal with stress – good diet, sleep, exercise regime. There was no wriggle room to change or improve what I was doing, I just had to accept taking time out.

Since then, I have done my academic job differently, and been very, very careful about taking breaks and time out to recharge. I have always exercised most days. Without being so very physically active I think I would come undone far more easily when things get stressful. Academia comes with periods of intense engagement and workload that peaks during teaching, and there is little that can be done about that. It is not a 9-5 job, cannot be treated as one, but I learned that it is up to me to work out how to thrive within those parameters.

So – fast forward to 2021. I have just worked so hard for the last two study periods, settling in to a new academic job. The last study period ended on Friday. I have this weekend off, then a week to get three course sites and outlines set up before the next ten week study period teaching three courses.

I am working in a totally different academic culture. Despite the pandemic and an opportunistic government dumping the sector in the poo, at my new university I feel more supported, like there is more certainty and more transparency than I have in the other three universities I have worked for over the last 20 years.

I timed my vaccination because I could afford to be sick if I had a reaction, but I think a bit more is going on here. I think I have chosen to pre-emptively burrow down a bit and go dormant to re-group, sending myself to the resting couch for a weekend, to avoid being forced there because I simply will not slow down.