It's Friday, so there must be a leaving do. In London, at least, everyone's leaving child protection. Sometimes an invite arrives for someone's leaving do and I realise I don't even know who they are. With so many changes, I have found myself less committed to getting to know new people; I'll see if they stay first.

Other times it's a trusted colleague or close friend leaving and I know I'll miss them. In this job I often need people who can give me a laugh, a hug or some good advice. When an experienced worker leaves, it affects the atmosphere and the workload. When several people leave in the same month, you feel a mug for staying.

It is worse for the clients who often have their own issues about separation and loss. Jay Barrett*, eight, was abandoned by his mother every time a new boyfriend came along. He told me he hated his previous social worker "because she left". His mother simply asked me: "How long will you stay?" I didn't make any promises.
So why are so many leaving? It's a difficult job, working with damaged people at their lowest point. There are no right answers, yet the consequences of getting it wrong seem huge. The sense of responsibility can be overwhelming, yet the deadlines, forms and reports stand in the way of really helping anyone. The only people I know who don't work weekends or evenings are those who get up at 5am every weekday.

My borough, like others in London, has tried to solve the crisis by recruiting staff from overseas. But they aren't staying either. Some always intend to stay a year then travel again. Others feel de-skilled by our system or are astounded by the volume of paperwork. All find that salaries that initially appear attractive do not go far in the world's second most expensive city.

Another issue is the high number of newly qualified staff in front-line work. Once they were sheltered and introduced to child protection and court work gradually, but this seems rare now. So a vicious circle develops: inexperienced staff arrive, quickly feel overloaded and leave, but their cases remain to be handed on to whoever comes next, while the clients get more frustrated.

Now it is my turn to leave. Why? Well, I'm tired of going to bed thinking about work and waking up still worrying. I want to do the sort of reflective, solution-focused social work I was trained to do, and feel more certain that I am helping people.

So for me the recruitment crisis has its bright side. With so many vacancies and so few applicants, I felt confident applying for jobs and was in a good position to negotiate. With a choice of so many boroughs and voluntary agencies I can try new ways of working and explore more specialist fields. After all, if I don't like the new job, I know there will always be vacancies in child protection.

*Not his real name
Clea Barry is now an adoption social worker.