|
I have worked in various conflict zones ranging from the West
Bank, Lebanon, Kosovo and Afghanistan, and in the course of my
various assignments came to enjoy the strange world I inhabited.
I liked the challenge of reporting under rigorous conditions,
and I think I also was drawn to the sense of danger that encompassed
the work.
Over the years I witnessed death and destruction. On occasions
it affected me; disturbed sleep, and rare bouts of irrational
anxiety about such things as parked cars. But I persevered in
this line of work, fuelled by a sense of ambition as well as buzz
of operating under such adrenaline-fuelled conditions.
I was aware that my experiences could all be taking a psychological
toll, but my desire to continue to feel the excitement of being
in the heart of the action, combined with a will to ‘succeed’,
drove me on. One assignment - though - brought home to me the
cost that my work was exacting upon my well-being.
I had been in a conflict zone, and had been caught in a number
of risky situations. I found the incidents particularly troubling,
which seemed strange considering they were in some ways less traumatic
than other situations I had in the past endured. On this trip,
I was forced to avoid live gunfire, and also had to deal with
some corpses which were in a state of decay.
Upon my return to the UK I became irrationally angry and upset.
I could not express my feelings of confusion and upset to family
and friends and found it difficult to work out what exactly was
causing me such distress.
I pressed on at work in London, but had increasing difficulty
functioning. The pressure of being in the office became more and
more strenuous, and the deadlines I used to enjoy became threatening.
Along with the psychological symptoms I suffered from the physical
effects of the stress I was experiencing. I got migraines, which
I hadn’t had since I was a child, as well as nosebleeds.
All my dreams contained visions of violence, some of which directly
recalled incidents I had been through.
I would wake up soaked in sweat and distressed. Sleep became
more difficult and I also began to suffer tinitus - a ringing
in my ears. I was afraid to talk about what I was feeling and
experiencing, with colleagues as well as with those closest to
me - as I thought they would not be able to understand what I
was going through.
I felt that my frame of reference had become different from that
of those around me. I became dislocated from my environment. Everything
seemed strange and I could not relate my feelings to everyday
life and to those I knew .
Eventually matters came to a head. During a difficult day in
the office, I went for a walk to relieve the stress and tiredness.
I bumped into a colleague, who asked me how I was. I told her
exactly what I was feeling.
She immediately understood my situation and told me, as a matter
of urgency to speak to my editor. I saw him, and he suggested
me I take a break in a couple of weeks - to which I agreed.
That night at home, I decided I couldn’t continue with
my work. I rang the editor who told me not to worry and take my
time to recover. I thought I would need a week or two of rest
- in fact I took two months off work. In that time, I utilised
the BBC employed counselling service and also went to yoga which
helped get rid of most of the physical symptoms.
The experience was very frightening. I was unsure what was happening
to me, and feared I was in the midst of some kind of a breakdown.
I felt fearful of telling my colleagues, for appearing weak. But
after I returned to work, some approached me with words of concern,
sympathy and understanding.
I still find it hard to understand why this experience happened
the way it did and when it did. And while I am not a religious
or a believing person, I describe it to myself as a ‘crisis
of the soul’.
Something inside me welled up, with all my cumulative experiences,
and invaded my everyday life. In some senses it was a symptom
of everything that was unbalanced in my life. I had lent too my
emphasis to my career, pushing myself to point where I was burned
out, and my personal life along with work had begun to suffer.
Whilst it was in many ways an unpleasant and scary ordeal, I
am grateful that it happened. It has allowed to me to re-assess
my life, to give priority to areas other than work. And to question
the direction of my career. I have not returned to conflict zones
since it occurred but at some point in the future I might do so,
if I feel I can do the job without inflicting damage upon myself
.
Suffering this experience has in a perverse sense enriched my
life, but I wish that I had dealt with the problem before it became
a crisis.
|
