It Isn’t Just Me

“Sick, on the job” is the lead article in today’s Money & Careers section of the Boston Sunday Globe. Globe correspondent Maggie Jackson reports on the findings of the nonprofit Family and Work Institute’s recent study detailing the effects of a “stressed-out, time-strapped, overworked era.”

Reading Jackson’s article and viewing the accompanying bar charts showing the reported decline in worker’s perception of their overall health resonated with me. Of particular interest was the quote from Ellen Galinsky, president of the New York based institute:

“You have to pay attention to the small things, the way people treat each other, whether there are opportunities to learn, whether people’s input is asked for and considered.”

Recognizing that my recent health issues are related not only to the high stress of the past five years (brought about by the difficult financial situation of the organization I work and my mother’s year long illness in 2007 and 2008) but also to the change in my workplace’s management and management style, I have spent the last few weeks working on how to better manage my stress, given this change. This study appears to validate the challenge I currently face.

Jackson reports, “Nearly 40 percent of employees in a highly ‘effective’ workplace – where people are trusted and supported – report being in excellent health, double the number of those who say they’re in the best health at less effective companies. The institute defines an effective workplace as one offering a climate of trust and respect, learning opportunities, worker autonomy, work-life fit, and economic security. High work-life support and flexibility are especially linked to good health outcomes.”

Will employers of companies that do not meet the definition of a highly effective workplace recognize themselves? What role can those of us whose health has been negatively affected by an overly controlling and unhealthy workplace play in helping to re-establish a highly effective workplace?

Should we even try? Should we instead evaluate the likelihood of bringing about change versus the potential effect on our health? For a long time, I had faith that if I kept working to bring about change, waited long enough, change would come. Change did come: it went from bad to worse and overall employee morale is the lowest I’ve seen in the seven years I’ve been at the school.

Now, my faith is centered on healing myself: reclaiming the strong, responsible, productive person I have been for most of my life. When I return, what strategies do I need to employ to function at an effective level? How do I learn to accept the changes, do my job to the best of my ability, and refrain from getting upset about the things beyond my power to change? What resources are available to those of us experiencing debilitating work-related health issues that will help us heal ourselves?
Jackson’s article offers insight into the problem and identifies resources for employees and managers to use to bring about positive change. After reading her article, I feel validated to know that ‘it isn’t just me.’

Building a Cardboard Boat: Relearning How to Play

Something happened to me as I got older: I forgot how to play. In recent years life’s responsibilities became overwhelming: the need to, ought to, should do, and must do took over. And, when I couldn’t face all the need to, ought to, should do, and must dos, I did nothing and felt guilty. Then stressed about all that I ‘needed’ to do: Didn’t sleep, didn’t eat right, or exercise. My overall health deteriorated.

I forgot how to just let go and play.

Today I played. No guilt.

Today was boat building day. A former next door neighbor and her husband have organized a cardboard boat regatta for Halloween afternoon. The challenge: Build a boat using only cardboard, coat hangers, duct tape, and paint or markers, then paddle out to a buoy 50 yards offshore and back. Best time wins.

Five groups spent the afternoon in our friends’ driveway, steps from the harbor, designing and building cardboard boats. Each took a different tack, transforming large and small pieces of cardboard into structures expected to float and hold together long enough to cover the hundred yard course.

Bill and I built a boat with two compartments: one for each child who will paddle as fast as they can to round the buoy and head back to shore before sinking. Sheathed in white duct tape, our cardboard craft was christened Casper after the friendly ghost; I painted eyes and a smile on the prow and wrote Casper on the stern.

I lost myself in this activity. The sun was out, strangers were working together on a shared task, we laughed, ate great burgers, and admired each other’s creations.

Or, I should say I found my former self in this activity. The same self I found while on vacation this summer: we visited family and old friends, explored a new city, and climbed two mountains. We played, had fun; but the feeling didn’t last. Shortly after arriving home, the stress reclaimed me, the pressure built, and my health once again deteriorated.

Today showed me the playful, relaxed me is near. I want her to stay.

Slow Down for Allie: A Lesson for All of Us

Allie was a young Marblehead teen who was killed on a summer day while crossing in a crosswalk. Her father created ‘Slow Down for Allie’ decals as a visible reminder not only for drivers to slow down but also for all of us to slow down as we race through our daily lives.

I understand this concept of slowing down: I’ve fought vigorously against it for most of my adult life. Until, on May 4, 2009, my body demanded I pay attention.  I opened the door of my office building, then found myself flying through the air; my only thought being to propel myself towards the grass so as to not hit my head on the stairs or the walkway. My hands broke my fall on the macadam, tearing up the heels of both palms and one knee. Shocked and with no one around to come to my assistance, I stayed in that position for what seemed like several minutes. I rolled onto the grass, regained my composure, and looked at my palms, covered with blood and a slightly torn up kneecap. Other than that, I was okay.

A few days later, I woke up so lightheaded that I could barely sit up. An emergency visit to my doctor was the first of what has become a series of visits to determine why I, a healthy 53 year-old woman, who exercises and eats right, was so rundown, so lacking in energy, and having difficulty concentrating on what had been easily handled tasks.

What brought me to this state? After extensive testing for a variety of physical causes, the answer was clear: anxiety, depression, and stress. Doing too much, for too long, under stressful conditions; believing if I worked longer and harder, I would be doing my part to hold things together at a place I love. Saying yes when I should have said no; working overtime week after week, working on vacations and days off. And, when my efforts did not produce the expected results, I tried harder, despite my doctor’s advice to take the summer off.

Recently, I cried ‘uncle’ and was granted medical leave. I’m relearning how to live; how to manage the weight of both negotiated and self-imposed deadlines, how to slow down and be satisfied with a day that isn’t spent racing from one commitment to another. I’m learning new ways to use my time, without the guilt and stress that has plagued me for years. I’m learning how to let go; I am grateful to my employer and the Federal Family and Medical Leave Act for making it possible for me to have this time.

I’m learning to talk and write about my experience: To be open about the debilitating effects of anxiety, depression, and stress. To cast aside the veil of shame associated with these diseases and, as today’s New York Times Magazine’s cover story on anxiety does, look at the physical manifestations of these feelings.

Perhaps the ‘Slow Down for Allie’ decals remind me that I have a choice: a choice to fight back. A choice to do things I enjoy and find my way back to enjoying those things that are necessary to do. I’ve fought this fight before during the most stressful time of my life – and won. I will win again. Thank you Allie’s father, for reminding me of what is really important in my life.

Pentimento

Pentimento

September 26, 2009

Pentimento: One of my favorite books, discovered serendipitously years ago after awakening in a soggy tent somewhere in the White Mountains. Sharon M. and I were on the third day of a hiking trip, in a small orange tent in a campground at the base of the mountain and decided that hiking in the pouring rain was not our idea of fun.

We packed up, drove south on Route 93, stopped at my great aunt's house and showered before heading into Boston. We found ourselves at the movie theater on Charles Street buying tickets for 'Julia' a movie I had never heard of, based on a short story from the book “Pentimento” by Lillian Hellmann, an author I had never heard of. I was captivated by this story. This was one of the most memorable movies I have ever seen and one of the best books I have ever read. Pentimento is an underlying image in a painting, as an earlier painting, a part of a painting, or an original draft that shows through, usually when the top layer of paint has become transparent with age. (American Heritage College Dictionary, third edition, 1993).

I have wanted to write for a long time. I have started journals never keeping them going for very long. I've thought about blogging, have researched sites, started to set one up, then gone no further.

What's different today? I have claimed and named the fact that I am suffering from depression and decided I no longer want to feel this way. I intend to reclaim my ability to enjoy my life and have taken a leave of absence from my job to do so. I am working with professionals to help me find my way back to myself.

I have chosen a public forum as a discipline, with the goal of posting daily for at least two weeks; the time 'they' say is needed to make something a habit.

One topic I want to explore why 'faking it' or 'toughing it out' is more accepted in our society (at least in the circles I am in) than admitting a problem, a disability, a health issue. When did being stressed out all the time come to be seen as a badge of honor, something to be soldiered through, a sign of strength, rather than a warning sign that something needs to change? Why do we feel weak or vulnerable when admitting a medical diagnosis of anxiety, stress, or depression? Why aren’t these seen as the debilitating diseases that they are; ones that often lead to significant physical ailments such as heart attacks or strokes?

I am taking the next 30 days to look below the surface and try to discover the reasons behind this disability, the warning signs to watch for, and the action I can take to prevent a recurrence.

Earlier today my husband asked me questions from the November&December issue of AARP magazine’s questionnaire “How Resilient Are You?  Normally I would have given myself a five (high score) on every item without a second thought; feeling the way I currently do, I recognized that for the past few months I would honestly answer the first question “I’m usually upbeat. I see difficulties as temporary and expect to overcome them. Feelings of anger, loss, and discouragement don’t last long,” with a two or a three. I want to be able to reclaim my five.