Becoming a Social Worker

In 2002, or thereabouts, I decided I wanted to be a social worker. I'd always wanted to work with children, but also wanted to go to university, as I enjoyed learning. I did one of those silly computer quizzes they make you do at school, to find out what career you would be suited to. There were lots on my list, and social work was one of them. There was also a big advertising campaign going on at the time to try and encourage people into social work. The strapline was 'Social Work: It's about people. It's that simple, and that complicated.' I thought it sounded fascinating.

I did my A Levels and a gap year working as a care assistant with people with learning disabilities. I had to delay the start of my job because I was unwell. I had a fever for a couple of days and then just felt really tired all the time. I had blood tests done- nothing. I asked the doctor what was wrong with me. He replied, 'post-viral fatigue syndrome.' He advised me not to start my job till I felt better, and that might not be for a few weeks. I took his advice and when I felt better a couple of weeks later, I started.

I went into that job completely naïve and unprepared, but I left with burning passion to make a difference to the lives of people with learning disabilities. During the year I had 2 months off with glandular fever, but I recovered well.

I had an amazing time at university, (cliché alert) growing as a person and developing a sense of professional identity. I graduated with a 2:1 in July 2008. A week before my graduation I had been offered my ideal job as a social worker in a local authority learning disability team. It was the first job I was interviewed for and the only one I wanted. I accepted straightaway.

I travelled Europe with my now-husband during that summer. When we came back, I went down with a dizzy virus. I took to my bed, then felt better after a couple of days, so I decided to do some manic cleaning of our new house. The next day, I was so exhausted I could barely think. I alternately thought, 'Food' and 'sleep'. The fatigue stuck around for a few weeks. I had to delay starting this job too. I had more blood tests. Nothing. It went away and I started my job. I thought no more of it.

For the next two years, I was more or less fine. Work was stressful at times, and I feared constantly that I wasn't a very good social worker, despite everyone telling me I was. In 2010 I didn't plan my holidays very well, and ended up working a long stretch over the summer without much time off. I also had at least 2 stressful cases, one of which involved daily phone calls due to the precarious situation. The other included a day in court (which is rare when you work with adults).

I could feel myself getting run-down, and on the advice of a locum GP, took a course of multivitamins with ginkgo. It helped a bit, but I went down with a cold/fever in September anyway. I took 2 days off sick and went back to work. My colleagues told me I looked pale and I struggled through the day. I went to my GP the next day, and was told to take the rest of the week off. I ended up taking the rest of the month off.

I went back feeling a little tired still, but this soon improved and I felt full of energy. My now- mother-in-law said she'd never seen me looking so well. I threw myself into my work, beavering away to catch up on the piles of paperwork and get some cases closed. I did well, and finally felt like I was getting somewhere. I was beginning to claw back some confidence as I felt like I finally knew what I was doing. I was looking forward to taking on some new cases with fresh challenges.

I was feeling tired by Christmas but thought that was normal. I was going to have some time off, and ended up having a lovely Christmas.