Back to Work: Stair Master!

Well, it’s hard to believe that this week was the first working week of 2015.

As much as I adore Christmas (and always enjoy being able to laze about the rest of the time in clothes I would be mortified to be seen in public wearing), I have to admit to a wee bit of relief that I’m back to routine. I do like a routine.

Anyway, to celebrate my return to work, I decided to do a quick update of how my first week went.

I say week yet I’m a loud and proud part-timer so my week consists of just 3 days. Not even that - but saying two and a half days just sounds smug!

It’s a brand new year so, of course, that means lots of wild and fanciful thoughts about being a ‘new’ person at work and being all organised, professional and etc.

*Coughs*

That lasted the walk up the stairs to my office.

The reason? One of my work resolutions was to walk to my fifth floor office rather than taking the lift.

Yes - fifth floor.

Nutter.

However, there were some positives to this plan. I would be a little more healthy and I wouldn’t have to make small talk in the lift. For five whole floors.

To show you how much the second thing is a problem for me, you should know four things about me if you don’t already.

1. I am an introvert.

2. I have depression.

3. On top of the above two things above, I am a little bit odd.

4. I’m not capable of hiding that I’m a little bit odd while stuck in a steel box with strangers.

Anyway, my first mission was to find the stairs. No really - I had no idea where the stairs were. (I don’t want anyone thinking that I hadn’t received any kind of induction at my work place. I assured my colleagues that if the fire alarm went off, I am not the kind of person that would fold my arms and refuse to leave my seat and follow them safely out of the building because I hadn’t been told the exact route to take! Even I’m not that odd.)

Upon finding the stairs, I was pleased to see that the early hour meant they were deserted. I have a funny feeling that the first three items from the list above would apply when forced to walk up five flights of stairs with a stranger, too.

So up the stairs I went.


Ground floor: Look at me going up the stairs. I’m awesome at resolutions! *Smug smile*

First floor: Woop - first floor! I am going to be sexy and svelte in days.

Second floor: How does that say ‘second floor’? I’ve been walking for hours. Can I speak to a manager, please? No, never mind - just keep going.

Third floor: Seriously - who turned down the oxygen? Now I know what people who tackle Everest feel like.

Fourth floor: *Breathing heavily and on hands and knees* Must. Keep. Going.

Fifth floor: I made it! I’m here! I’m alive! *Dripping with sweat, I lie on the landing for a while to compose myself before entering the office.*



I wheeze out a ‘happy new year’ to my colleagues as I pass their desks as quickly as my shaking legs will take me.

Slumping at my desk, my mascara has run, my hair is sodden, I have droplets of sweat beading on my brow. My breathing is laboured and far too loud for the occasion. I look for my bag only to realise I’ve sat on it and squished my sandwich as I’ve fallen into my chair. My lunch now resembles a pancake of bread and meat mixed with some fluff from my skirt. Yum!

My boss comes over and asks where I’ve been - I’m 20 minutes late. Then she sees my white pallor and beads on my upper lip. “Oh - you’ve been ill, poor thing.”

Yes, that’s it. I have been ill. Very ill.

There’s no way I’ll tell anyone the truth. The truth that at the bottom of the stairs I was early, poised, professional, decent and dry.

So much for my work resolutions!


And for reference, these are the pretty outfits that I thoroughly ruined this week with my blood, sweat, sweat, sweat and tears.

The best laid plans…

Why do I suspect that this may not be the first time that I have used this title in a blog post? And possibly will not be the last?

So, as per my great and grand plans, I was breaking down my life into small, manageable chunks and tackling them one by one.

Great plan.

Simple and fabulous.

And while I still stand by that, life has a fun way of saying ‘ha-ha - think you’re in charge? Think again!’

I have been out of traditional employment since the beginning of the year. At first it was to get better after a flare and then it became more about re-prioritising my life, raising my new puppy and enjoying my simple life.

But as the money in my savings account started to dwindle away, stress-head Jo started to rear her ugly head and started to say things to make me panic. Things like ‘chocolate and books cost money’ and ‘I suppose you also need to eat more than just chocolate. Unfortunately’.

Reluctantly, I listened to her and started looking for jobs. Ever one to be just a little bit rebellious (but just enough rebellious that I still follow the rules - wouldn’t want to get in trouble after all!!) I decided to go hunting for a part-time position.

A couple of applications later and I had an interview. I was excited - mainly because I want money and a husband and both are more likely to be found out and about than in my house. Sadly enough. And I should know - I’ve looked. There are neither a six foot hunk nor a pile of lolly stashed under my bed.

The particular interview was set for 8.45am to 2.15pm. I know - right! I mean sheesh! Part of me wondered whether they didn’t have any staff at all and just made their interviewees undertake the work required. But anyway…

Then came the stress. Now, I don’t know about anyone else with Ulcerative Colitis but this is the bit that gets me; I could meditate until the cows came home but I just can’t control the fact that I get stressed and that the stress has really horrible consequences for my body. I don’t actually even realise it’s happening which makes it nigh on impossible to do anything about it. Even if I could.

It started a few days before my interview. The bleeding, the pain, the nausea, the decision to live in the toilet for a while, the worry and the fear. No matter how many times it happens, there’s a moment when you realise it’s happening once again and all you can do is sit there and let the tears come. As this is usually happening while on the, erm, privy, my forehead has become used to placing itself on the edge of the sink. It really is like slamming into a brick wall when you’ve been happily moving along the street, minding your own business.

Back to the interview - it went well enough. The task, the competency based interview and the role-playing exercise (ick - shouldn’t these kind of things be banned for introverts?) were fine even if I did pause mid interview to point out the canal boat that was sailing past the window behind the interviewers. Well - I thought it was important!!

Sadly, the job was not for me and despite my mature attitude now, I was sad and a little angry. Not that I didn’t get the job but that my body was ripping apart internally and I felt the pain of it with every movement - and it was not even worth it.

That’s when the depression reared it’s ugly head and dragged me down. I was too weak to fight it. I could barely eat and I felt like hell and I was ripe for the plucking of the evil depression.

And then I realised - why the hell do I put myself through this? I have always said that I’m not cut out for the corporate world. I’m the girl that notices the canal boat rather than the bottom line.

Why do I constantly try and mould myself into something I’m clearly not? My body knows it. My heart knows it. When will my mind catch up?

Now.

Now - I’m catching up.

I can’t take this anymore. I can’t do this anymore.

I have to do something.

So, buh-bye plans of a hot body (for the moment anyway). My first priority is to sort out how I am going to be able to maintain my life without selling my soul to the corporate world.

It’s not going to be easy but at least I’ll have my health.

Since all I want is to be happy - I think this is a damn fine first step.

Taking Back My Life...

I think I was in primary 1 when I first got glasses. It didn't bother me - they were pink with My Little Pony on them!

I wore them all through primary school where I was good at sports and did well in classes. Only one other girl had glasses in my class but I don't remember anyone ever making comment on them.

Things seemed to change when I got to secondary school. Glasses = swot and there were plenty of people who felt inclined to point it out to me. Regardless of the misery of my high school years, I still worked hard enough to get into university.

In uni I studied marketing and business law and graduated in due course.

After that I got a placement with an agency then moved onto a company and worked my way up to marketing executive. I've been in marketing ever since.

It can be quite a fun job and I'm quite good at it (if I do say so myself). The thing is... I don't want a high power, stressful job.

I would quite like to work in my own cafe or bookshop. Working away but with enough time to spend on the things in life I enjoy - writing, reading, family, crafts, gardening, baking.

The problem is that I've busted my ass and my mind for my career over the years. Surely if I give up now it will all have been for nothing. I'm also worried that people will think that I've failed somehow if I give up my good job for something they deem as, well, less.

What worries me is that I fear that the "people" I'm worried about might just be myself.

Regardless, I am determined to make the decisions to take back my life and live it the way I want to live it.

Christmas can start...

The last day of work (I say work but I can guarantee not a soul did a shred of work today in my organisation - myself included!) was today and now the Christmas celebrations can properly begin. Yay!

I also have this feeling that 2014 is going to be an AWESOME year so, for that fact, I'm quite looking forward to Hogmanay, too! For once!

As I move forward, this is what I need to remember - every cloud has a silver lining.

5 more sleeps 'til Santa!!

B x

Numb

I'm beginning to wonder if the depression medication actually takes away the emotions or if it just suppresses them.

I am back at work today after a week off to use up my holidays before my contract ends at the end of the month. I wasn't looking forward to going back but it's nowhere near as bad as it used to be when I worked at the bakery. (I didn't really work at a bakery - I'm just just substituting so I don't break out in a panic at the mere mention of the real name of the company I used to work for. I would *love* to work in a bakery!!)

Despite this, there are things going on at work, plots afoot (afeet?) and mind games being played - the kind of office politics that go hand in hand with most office jobs.

It's exhausting.

I feel emotionally drained and have learnt today that I'm considered even more superfluous than I could possibly have imagined. There's an interesting saying by Eleanor Roosevelt: "No-one can make you feel inferior without your consent. As much as I like this quote, I don't completely agree. If people are mentally beating you on a regular basis, it's just not possible to think well of yourself when they constantly tell you you're worthless. Or worse, imply that you are. At least if someone straight out tells you to your face, you can refute it. If it's said behind your back...

So, onto my question...

... here I sit. I've driven home, made my tea and now I have no obligations until tomorrow at 9am.

I'm just sitting here.

I feel like I should be crying.

I feel like I should be crying like my heart is breaking.

Instead I feel a little detached. Numb.

To be honest, I'm not sure which is better.

I feel a little lost.

Two Exciting Things...

Two exciting things happened to me today - on a day that I didn't expect any excitement to be forthcoming.

You see, today was my first day back at work after a short spell of feeling under the weather. While under said weather, my MO consisted of trashy TV, comfy clothes and snuggling up on my couch from dawn until dusk (or 10am, when I dragged myself out of bed, until 9pm when I threw myself back in).

I'm sure you can appreciate why swapping the above for nagging bosses, condescending colleagues and sitting in the corner of my stuffy office all day, was a bit of a drama for me.

But, as I'm very lucky to have a job, I must now list three things I appreciate about work:

1. My chair swivels

2. I have shops just across the road. Cheap shops. My kind of shops.

3. Going to work allows me to buy things from these shops. And Amazon. And ebay.

However, anyone who has had to go back into work after an absence will agree that it is quite a traumatic experience. Actually being there is fine but the thought of going back in just ruins the day to start off with. Luckily, my first exciting thing managed to make me smile...

Have you ever had an email that says:

Hello!

Remember that book you ordered months ago and completely forgot about - it's being delivered to you tomorrow.

No - neither have I. Until today!

But wait - it gets better!

My head starting churning into gear trying to figure out whether I have already spent my pennies for this month when the email went on:

Don't worry about paying for this book. When you bought it, you sensibly used a gift certificate so you owe us nothing.

Yay! What could be better? Nothing? Wrong. Then I read this:

Oh, and by the way, the book we're sending you is a Christmas Romance. The best type of book. Ever.

Happy days.

Didn't I tell you I love Amazon?!

My second exciting thing doesn't come close to topping the first one but I was pleased with it none the less.

I decided to use my trip to work to do a little housekeeping. *Shocking behaviour!* As part of my insurance, I get free credit card protection should I happen to misplace any of them. I just have to phone up and give them all the details and I'm good to go. 

I duly phoned the number and spoke to a nice lady on the other end.

Me: Can I please give you some card details for my credit card protection?

Nice Lady: Yes, of course. Are you adding new cards or amending old details?

Me: Adding new cards - I've never done this before so I won't have any cards on the system to amend.

Nice Lady:  *Silence* Well, there are three cards listed here so you must be a person of suspicious nature that is trying to filch money from some unsuspecting genuine customer. (Fine, she probably only thought the last part!)

Me: No, I've never done this before.

Suspicious Lady: Yes, you really have.

Me: Hmmm - are the cards there boring card 1, boring card 2 and crazy-exciting-let's-spend-money card?

Confused Lady: They are. You must have added them previously.

Me: Wow. I'm so organised. Go me!

Confused Lady: But you didn't remember about adding them you crazy thing. (She actually said that! No she didn't!)

Me: I may not have a memory but I am super efficient. I'm awesome!

Scared Lady: Alrighty, then, cheerio, nutter!

Me: Woo hoo! Cheerio!

So, despite being forced to go into work (apparently I signed a contract!), I managed to have a fairly nice day.

Perhaps they're just easing me back in gently. Tomorrow should be fun!

B x

Erm, 87 day challenge?

It's been a busy and stressful old week. But...I have to admit to a certain amount of pride in myself because I did not break down. I felt like there were plenty of chances and I was teetering on the edge at points, but did I fall over? No I did not! Yay!

Ironically, at the end of the week I had a checkup with my doctor regarding my depression and the medication that I'm currently on. I was pushed up to the highest dose of said drugs a little over a month ago as I was beginning to worry that the drugs were starting to lose their potency. More pills didn't seem to make much of a difference but when I managed to get through this week - I was happy to tell the doctor that I felt so much better.

And then, like an annoying game of snakes and ladders, downward I went again. It's so frustrating and makes me so sad, not just for me but for those that I love and love me back. It's like someone teases me with happiness only to wrench it out from beneath my feet when I'm just starting to get my balance.

Sadly, I really think that I can pin all of this on one little thing - work. The big event is over and I survived but I suppose it's very naive of me to have expected some sort of thanks. Nope - not a bean of thanks was given. It's this kind of little thing that cements that the corporate world just isn't meant for me. Sadly, instead of an angel and devil on my shoulders - I've got my heart and health on one side and my responsibilities on the other.

Anyway, this minor set back is why I am now gearing up for my 87 day challenge rather than a 90 day one!

It's primarily a health challenge but it incorporates both physical fitness and mental fitness (the second being a term that I really enjoy saying for some reason!).

And why is this challenge limited to 87 days?

Because that's how long it is until CHRISTMAS!

I love, love, love Christmas but it also just happens to be a decent distance away to set myself a fitness goal.

So, in the 90 87 days until Christmas I want to achieve the following:

* Tone up so I'm comfortable in my own skin
* Own my curves
* Get a physical and mental fitness plan that I'm sticking to and loving

So that is where I'm aiming.

And going back to work, no - not one person thanked either myself or my team for our (even if I do say so myself) fantabulous event last week. However, upon hearing this, my sister gave me this:

A bunch of flowers to congratulate me. And, they mean so much more than anything else anyone at work could have given me.

A bump in the road...

The other day I had a little bump in my road. This isn't unusual but it's the first since my doctor upped my dose of fluoxetine (prozac) to 60mg a day.

I have a stressful job. I think part of the reason that it's so stressful is that I know that what I do is hardly the stuff of life and death. It's actually so monumentally unimportant that it can be laughable to see others in the organisation treat it as such. That fact certainly doesn't stop them from putting all holy pressure on me and my team, unfortunately.

I'll admit it - I cracked. Cracked up, that is.

If I'm honest with myself, it's my heart that's my problem with my job. It's just not there and sometimes it's a struggle to hide that from people - including myself.

My head and my heart are at war. I know I want to indulge my creative side as far as my career goes. I also know that I have bills to pay and my practical side (aka my head) will not let me walk away from a paying job to do something that doesn't have a steady wage.

I'm a practical dreamer. Doesn't that suck?

Anyway, my breakdown was intense but, thankfully, fairly short lived. Some junk food, some mum time and a puff inducing blubber was all that was needed to bring back some equilibrium.

Yet the feelings haven't left me completely and little niggles over the week have just made me think about the future more and more.

I'm hopefully going to take this weekend to come up with an action plan to get myself back on track. Back on the road. Stepping stones not stumbling blocks.