@sozobe,
I've been pretty lucky in my work life. When I've been personally most stressed, I've been my most secure. Years later, I'm insecure, so I get it.
The time I missed work:
I had a good head of the lab job, flying high, when my mother failed. I didn't just get that right away. She took two long walks, one to (somehow) the police station in the Rampart Division (not good at all in many ways) and one to LAX (both a lot of miles) - they called me from the security center at LAX, or whatever they called it. I cringe now even typing this. Kills me to think of it. Her flailing sorrow.
Nobody I knew could help then and I knew at least one psychiatrist (friend of friend) and my network of medical superiors. This was before Alzheimers was the big word. In retrospect, platitudes.
I was already stressed out, visiting multiple times a week. Basically out of my mind trying to figure out what to do with her. I knew she was confused, but not to the extent.
A girlfriend recommended a doctor who recommended a psychiatrist. That psychiatrist will remain forever in my mind as chrystalized evil. She decimated my mother and had her taken off forthwith.
Not that I disagree so much with the psychiatrist, in retrospect, for taking her for evaluation, but re the whole scene, robes, jewels, arrogance.
This remains hard for me to talk about, excruciating.
However, re work, I missed some time. I made up for it, and a I barely needed to as I routinely worked way past five o'clock, but the clockwatcher across the hall complained about me.
The piquance was that she was disabled and worked a perfect 8-5. Whereas I worked a semiperfect 8.5 t0 8.
Beware of saints down the hall.