Weeks 1 & 2 - Rehab
No I haven't gone to rehab since finishing up at work. But leaving my job and spending time at home to try and recuperate from my worsening mental illnesses feels like rehabilitation of some sort.
Week One
The first week of my sabbatical felt like a warm cosy blanket. After working or heavily dealing with like seven days a week for 18 plus months to sleeping in, staying in my pyjamas all day and doing whatever the hell I wanted at any hour of the day felt like bliss. It felt so relaxing to all of a sudden not be pushed by a to-do list or a deadline of some sort.
I spent my first week cooking, which is something I love to do and had not done properly in over a year as I'd been relying on take away or my husband or convenience food like lite n easy to get by. I read books and I spent a lot of time watching tv series. The Handmaid's Tale - if you haven't watched that yet, do yourself a favour and watch it. It is fantastic and unique and eye opening and so well made.
I also became very aware how ill I was. I had moments during the week where it was like I was hovering above myself, watching from the outside. I saw a girl wandering around aimlessly, slow and tired, in her big fluffy dressing gown, struggling to move or just manage the basic day to day tasks we all usually do without thinking. ie. showering, brushing teeth, making a cup of coffee. I would just meander around the house and outside in the sunshine in what looked like to me, a scene from a movie where all of those people at a mental institute who wander around the grounds in their pyjamas and dressing gowns and stare at the leaves on trees and sit and think for what looks like hours. I was actually one of those people. I now understood how you get to that point in life, where your mind is just so overworked and pushed to it's brink that it just stops. It gets you through the bare minimum each day, then needs more sleep. It well and truly needed a recovery.
Week Two
My second week off turned out to be much tougher. I guess I had gotten through the initial emergency TLC I needed and reality had start to set in. I started crying a lot and feeling very lost. After decades of school, then uni then work I had lost my day to day structure and purpose. I was sitting around completely confused as to what to do with my time. I didn't feel up to anything, but I also felt very wrong that I wasn't doing anything. Week two was a tough week. It dawned on me just how much of my life had been decimated through this intense work life I had unknowingly, unconsciously, led myself into.
I had gained 18 kgs
I barely spent time with my friends
My husband and I's relationship and closeness was suffering, and it was only our first year of marriage!
I didn't recognise the person I was. I am so far from the person I was when I entered that fateful job
My house was an incredibly uncomfortable environment. There were sections of the house that hadn't been unpacked since we moved in 20 or so months ago.
My one true passion - travel - was non-existent in my life. Even though I was earning a salary where it should have been abundant.
I had a psychologist appointment this week. I thought it might help but to be honest I cried more after I left and felt even more lost. She told me that my feeling of being lost is quite normal as human nature thrives on structure. It feels natural and normal. I guess she was only trying to help, but the session consisted of her giving me numerous suggestions of what I could be doing to "unlose" myself. A pick and choose list. Unfortunately the impact it had on me after the session, was that it just felt like an enormous to-do list that I wasn't ready for. I couldn't compute another list yet. I regretted making that follow up appointment as I was leaving my session for three weeks later. I also cried myself to sleep a number of nights that week. I was drained.
Week One
The first week of my sabbatical felt like a warm cosy blanket. After working or heavily dealing with like seven days a week for 18 plus months to sleeping in, staying in my pyjamas all day and doing whatever the hell I wanted at any hour of the day felt like bliss. It felt so relaxing to all of a sudden not be pushed by a to-do list or a deadline of some sort.
I spent my first week cooking, which is something I love to do and had not done properly in over a year as I'd been relying on take away or my husband or convenience food like lite n easy to get by. I read books and I spent a lot of time watching tv series. The Handmaid's Tale - if you haven't watched that yet, do yourself a favour and watch it. It is fantastic and unique and eye opening and so well made.
I also became very aware how ill I was. I had moments during the week where it was like I was hovering above myself, watching from the outside. I saw a girl wandering around aimlessly, slow and tired, in her big fluffy dressing gown, struggling to move or just manage the basic day to day tasks we all usually do without thinking. ie. showering, brushing teeth, making a cup of coffee. I would just meander around the house and outside in the sunshine in what looked like to me, a scene from a movie where all of those people at a mental institute who wander around the grounds in their pyjamas and dressing gowns and stare at the leaves on trees and sit and think for what looks like hours. I was actually one of those people. I now understood how you get to that point in life, where your mind is just so overworked and pushed to it's brink that it just stops. It gets you through the bare minimum each day, then needs more sleep. It well and truly needed a recovery.
Week Two
My second week off turned out to be much tougher. I guess I had gotten through the initial emergency TLC I needed and reality had start to set in. I started crying a lot and feeling very lost. After decades of school, then uni then work I had lost my day to day structure and purpose. I was sitting around completely confused as to what to do with my time. I didn't feel up to anything, but I also felt very wrong that I wasn't doing anything. Week two was a tough week. It dawned on me just how much of my life had been decimated through this intense work life I had unknowingly, unconsciously, led myself into.
I had gained 18 kgs
I barely spent time with my friends
My husband and I's relationship and closeness was suffering, and it was only our first year of marriage!
I didn't recognise the person I was. I am so far from the person I was when I entered that fateful job
My house was an incredibly uncomfortable environment. There were sections of the house that hadn't been unpacked since we moved in 20 or so months ago.
My one true passion - travel - was non-existent in my life. Even though I was earning a salary where it should have been abundant.
I had a psychologist appointment this week. I thought it might help but to be honest I cried more after I left and felt even more lost. She told me that my feeling of being lost is quite normal as human nature thrives on structure. It feels natural and normal. I guess she was only trying to help, but the session consisted of her giving me numerous suggestions of what I could be doing to "unlose" myself. A pick and choose list. Unfortunately the impact it had on me after the session, was that it just felt like an enormous to-do list that I wasn't ready for. I couldn't compute another list yet. I regretted making that follow up appointment as I was leaving my session for three weeks later. I also cried myself to sleep a number of nights that week. I was drained.
Fingers crossed hey.
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