'I gave everything to my work and it still didn't feel good enough'

Published by Professional Social Work magazine, 22 June, 2022

It took a near breakdown and total burnout for me to leave children’s social work. I loved being a children's social worker but it would have killed me.

There is something unique about social work, not just children’s social work but all types of practice. Social workers get to be part of some of the most hidden areas of people's lives. We sit and talk about trauma, pain, and emotional hurt on a daily basis. But then we can help shape the future of people’s lives through using expertly honed communication skills.

I decided to forge a path as a children’s social worker but I know colleagues across all service areas will find some of my reflections really resonate with them and their own experience.

If you would have said to me two years ago that I was going to leave children’s social work, I would have laughed saying that I could never imagine ever leaving this job. However, it is only now, eight months after leaving, that I am beginning to realise that I was a shell of a person.

I made the decision to leave while trying to manage several crisis situations at once. It was hard because I was emotionally invested in trying to make things better for the families I worked with. Now, I need to be clear, while I gave 100 per cent to my job, I thought I had good boundaries.

I wouldn’t routinely work at weekends or stay up late finishing the admin side of the work. I reserved working over my contracted hours for pure crisis work. But just like diabetes creeps upon the person whose diet isn’t great and doesn’t get active enough, burnout creeped upon me.

Before I knew it, I wasn’t sleeping and it was taking me five days of my leave to unwind from the stress of work (actually, reflecting now I don’t think I ever truly relaxed). I constantly worried about whether the crisis I had left was going to be managed in my absence.

I gave everything to my work to the detriment of my life and it still didn’t feel good enough. There was always more I 'should' be doing. An audit picked holes in my practice. It’s funny, individual cases were audited but nobody ever did a whole caseload audit. Privately, I suspect it is because this would shine a light into the shadows of modern day practice where it is expected we work above our capacity all the time.

Will I return to children’s practice? I’m not sure.

I miss the direct work. The ability to create a space for families who feel nobody “gets” them and empower them to see a better future. But I don’t miss the lack of recognition of professional capacity for each new crisis.

The system is broken, always needing to respond to crises as a result of failed public policy, recruitment challenges and total collapse of supportive networks in societies. The demand is 100 per cent but 100 per cent of professional capacity only meets 80 per cent of need which leaves 20 per cent without.

I used to lay awake worrying about the 20 per cent of people who were left without the support they needed. Always having to prioritise the urgent life and death scenarios was taking its toll on me.

That coupled with workplaces that don’t prioritise real professional development and skill development outside of the 'corporate direction' of the given administration leaves practitioners feeling under-valued and frankly, used.

It’s no wonder so many turn to agency social work. Agency social work has its stresses (I have been an agency worker myself) but at least you feel compensated for the stress you are exposed to each week. Also, there is no incentive for “great training opportunities” because everyone is over-capacity, leaving no emotional space for professional growth.

In contrast, I now work for a NHS mental health trust that places boundaries on expectations. That encourages professional growth. It does this against the same financial backdrop as my previous employers but makes it clear the workforce is its greatest asset. It invests in its people.

And this is the irony, the things that I love about my new role are not exclusive to my employer. They are things which can be replicated in any workplace. The way my manager acknowledges how busy I am and protects the team. How we are given space to reflect. We come together and have a common ambition for the work we do and we talk about it. It isn’t presumed. Everyone is part of a bigger picture. There are collective discussions about how to make our little team and system work better for the clients.

If you are broken by work, remember this: there are other opportunities available. You do not have to stay in a role which is sucking energy from other areas of your life. You are worth more than that.