Leaving the Work

This is the third in a series of blog posts designed to help workers moving back into civilian life. The first post in this series explored the emotional aspects of asking for help; the second post focused on Greg Swenson’s experiences with re-entering college. Here, Hod Allen generously shares a reflection on his personal experience leaving the work. 

I can’t really put my finger on the exact time that I actually “left the work.” The catalyst for leaving was when I had a nervous breakdown, but it took a long time before I was able to come to terms with “not being able” for the work, and an even longer time before I stopped seeing myself as a worker. My identity was so wrapped up in being a worker that I didn’t know how to extricate myself from it. Looking back, I feel like my unlearning, deconstructing or unwinding was a lot like being spun around and around as the wrapping was pulled off, layer by layer, experience by experience.

One of the things that I did very soon after concluding that I wasn’t going to be in the work for the time-being was to leave the area where I had been in the work. It wasn’t a conscious decision on my part to separate myself from my worker identity, but I recognize now that it was an important step in my deconstruction. I moved from the East Coast to the West Coast of Canada, which is a great distance, and although I carried my worker identity with me, the people on the West Coast didn’t really know me as a worker. So, the expectations weren’t the same.

Most people who leave the work tend to get married, but I didn’t see that as a viable option since I’m gay, so that definitely prolonged my deconstruction. Marriage has a way of shutting down any designs by others or of self to go back into the work. I had many layers of self- suppression and self-loathing to work through which I had no clue even existed. Even if I weren’t gay, I firmly believe that marriage would have been disastrous because of my great emotional deficit. Many years would pass before I would be mature enough for a committed relationship. I struggled with loneliness in those years, and I so can see that marriage may be the most obvious answer for many workers to successfully navigate their exit.

I wasn’t given any money from the overseer when he told me that it would be best if I settled my heart on another profession. I was seriously ill, incapable of providing for myself, and in great need of some stability. My family helped as much as they could, but my parents and my sisters were all struggling financially, so all they could offer was a place to live and food to eat, for which I will be forever grateful. I hold no grudge against the overseer for not offering money because I had only been in the work for four years and I was only 27 years old. I appeared in good health physically, so I’m sure he assumed I could easily provide for myself. The only financial help I received was from an elderly couple who gave me $500 because God had, in their words, revealed to them that I needed help.

I worked for some of the friends as a carpenter/labourer in the east for 6 months before moving west, and was able to get a job for one of the friends in the west doing similar work. Those were very dark days which were only bearable because I was young and my body could endure physical labour. These days, I work just as hard, but I’m not severely depressed and I know what I’m doing. My work brings me satisfaction and joy these days, but those early days were full of fear and darkness.

God had a plan for my life through it all, and although I was sick and lost, those years were blessed with experiences. I learned lessons the hard way, and those are the ones that stick. I slowly learned my trade by trial and error and now have very marketable and useful skills that can be put to use anywhere. One of my biggest regrets is that I didn’t undergo any formal training. It’s hard to consider going to school full-time with no money saved up, but I didn’t even try to borrow money or explore options.

I still have a heart to minister. God has never ceased to call me to feed His lambs and sheep, and He has shown me many avenues to do that. I know He called me to His ministry when I was still a child, and the only way I knew how to do that was in the form of the 2x2 ministry. He honoured that for a time, but since then, He has shown me something far better and all-encompassing.

When I was in the work, one of my companions, Jim, a man in his 70’s who has since passed away, suffered from depression. I could see his struggle, and I cared for him. In my ignorance, I prayed that God would give him the strength to stay in the work (and at the same time, I prayed that I would never have to face such a situ

ation). I expect Jim did not see any option but to continue in the work, no matter how horrible he felt. I wish that every worker would feel supported enough and secure enough to leave the work if they are no longer able, or no longer feel called, or have become disenchanted with their choice. 

It has been said that money cannot buy happiness, but it sure can help. I believe that many workers who leave the work deserve financial help to get on their feet. I know that it would very likely have made those dark years easier for me.