Tag: stress

Frantic Energy

Bones

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Frantic energy is just another manifestation of stress.

For me it displays as a need to fidget, an inability to sit still, twitching my toes, rubbing my fingers together, swinging my legs … some days I decide I’m just going to be completely still and force myself not to move.  Or there are days where I don’t feel like I can move as I need.  They’re the less good days.

Today I’m fidgeting.  It’s windy out, I’ve been having nightmares for the last three nights, I have been sleeping like crap … so I’m all keyed up in a not very good way.

On days like this I don’t allow myself to make any decisions, or go shopping.  I make sure I have movement and fidget outlets and just ride this crap out.  Naps also help.

So does going to sleep at a reasonable hour, which I’m definitely going to try tonight!

Pregabalin – Day Two

Bones

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My doctor has prescribed pregabalin for my fibromyalgia, at a low dose, for two months.  I waited until work was wrapped up for the hear, as side effects include dizziness and general space-cadet-ness, which wouldn’t be ideal for the last week of work.

I took my first dose of pregabalin on two nights ago.  I curled up in my favourite chair and knitted for a bit.  I found myself nodding off fairly promptly, so took myself off to bed and slept.  I woke up early.

That day I was dizzy and had visual disturbances – rather like the frame rate for my eyes wasn’t quite fast enough.  It was peculiar, to say the least, so I didn’t drive anywhere.  I felt drowsy all day and a wee bit spacey.

The second day, being today, was a lot better.  No dizziness and no frame rate peculiarities.  My pain levels have considerably decreased, but I’m not sure if that’s because I’m on holiday and so I’m pottering about more (because I don’t have to lie and rest for work), or if it’s already beginning to work.

So far it has been the least offensive drug I have ever begun to take.  There doesn’t seem to be any mental disturbances, and I don’t feel particularly spacey or dizzy anymore.  So far I’m impressed and vaguely optimistic this may work.

Workplace Bullying

Bones

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Specific words and responses in the past week have led me to understand that I am currently the target of an active bullying campaign from a colleague, and have been since I joined.

From the very beginning she made it clear through her body language, dismissive attitude, word usage and tone of voice that I am Not Welcome and she Does Not Like Me.  Which is fine, I’m quite happy to leave her be and do my own thing and not unnecessarily interact with her so she doesn’t get annoyed and I don’t get snapped at.  This is a simple solution.  I know I’m not everyone’s cuppa tea and I’m happy to leave people be.

Last week she commented in a meeting to the effect of “you’re not doing your job”, a comment she never would have made had she not been confident she would be backed up.  And, unsurprisingly, she was – three of my other colleagues jumped in with very pointed comments on the topic at hand directed solely at me, in a manner that made me feel very attacked (although I didn’t quite understand until after the fact).  She was elated after that display.  Positively beaming.  It made me realise a few things.

First, that I wasn’t going to let this slide.  Passive bullying, being an ass to me directly, not a problem.  I can just avoid that person and we’ll all go on our happy way, but this was active.  She was seeking people out and telling them I wasn’t able to do my job.  She was cultivating this belief in my incompetence among other colleagues.  No, this I will not tolerate.

Secondly, just how much the stress of bullying has affected my mental and physical health!

I’ve always had a peculiar disconnect between my mind and my body.  Prior to a few years ago, I just didn’t think, I didn’t contemplate, I didn’t look within and analyse my own thoughts, feelings, or behaviours.  I just did, and bottled it all up.  Super healthy, right?

Now I take the time to figure out what my body and mind are telling me, and everything is ringing stress bells.  My gastrointestinal tract became deeply upset.  My mind couldn’t settle.  I was restless and antsy.  My heart rate was high.  I had difficulties getting to sleep, maintaining a restful sleep, and staying asleep.  I genuinely did not think I would be this affected by bullying in the workplace, and yet here I am, my anxiety still twisting in my gut.

I’ve lodged a complaint, and I’ll pursue this.  I think I’ll let the higher ups handle it – I don’t think it will be good for my health to interact with her myself in any way, especially as I am very confident she will simply gaslight me and I will end up getting nowhere.  I’m only there for a couple more months, and if I really need to, I will leave.  Although that’d have to be pretty dire for me to leave, I often have a hard time doing what’s best for myself when it comes to work.

But I’ve got to look after my health first.

Amitriptyline – That’s a No Go From Me

Bones

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I’ve been on 10mg Amitriptyline every evening (along with 20mg fluoxetine every morning), and it has finally settled in enough for me to say, no, this is not working.

It’s one of the more difficult things to do, stop and admit to yourself that this medication that should be helping you (and oh god don’t you wish it was) actually isn’t.  I mean, it sort of is, and sort of isn’t, but the positives are outweighed by the negatives.  Then you have to go back to your doctor and say ‘this isn’t working’ and they pry for reasons why and sometimes it’s hard to put the reasons into words.

Fortunately for me, it wasn’t.  My negative side effects included, but were not limited to:

  • Tachycardia Monday (I wish it was on Tuesday because that would have sounded cooler) – where my heart rate was consistently 100-130bpm for the majority of the morning, every Monday.
  • Consistently higher heart rates across all activities.
  • Intention tremors when I’m tired.
  • Increased anxiety and depression.
  • Increased headaches and visual disturbances.

So I told my doctor and he suggested we halve my dose (I’m already on the lowest dose tablet) and re-visit in a few weeks when he’s had an opportunity to read up on what else might treat fibromyalgia.  I’m pushing fairly hard to try a different medication.

I’ve been on 5mg Amitriptyline for the last week and the change is huge.  I feel excited about things again, I’m happier, more relaxed, and generally more positive.  I don’t have tremors anymore, woohoo!  Everything’s coming up Milhouse!

Except with the lower dose of medication that was managing my pain, I’m now in more pain, which I’m not quite so keen on.  My arms, which haven’t ambiently ached (for no reason) since starting on amitrip are flaring up again.  Usually the aches are confined to my hips, thighs, and lower back.  I’m having random spots on my skin where touch there is excruciating – something as simple as a cable brushing against my arm feels like a fire brand.  Sometimes where I like to sit the sleeves of my cardigan is overly sensitive.  I haven’t been able to wear my watch because it’s been too painful.

You win some, you lose some.  At this point I’d rather this level of pain than trembling so hard I can’t even do up a button.  When I see my doctor next I’ll be pushing for a new script to try, and for a referral to the frightfully expensive (private) pain management specialist he mentioned.  It’s time to get this ball rolling faster!

I Am Allowed To Be Burnt Out

Bones

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I am allowed to be burnt out.

For me, this is a radical idea.  The admitting and acceptance of the state of being burnt out, and actually giving myself permission to be burnt out.  To be honest, I think I’ve been burnt out for years, and it finally caught up with me last year.

I am autistic.  From a very early age I was conditioned against expressing that and pressured into appearing neurotypical.  I have, up until this year, put on a facade of a successful, bubbly, vivacious and sociable business woman.  Mostly this appearance was abused into me by It, but it was also expected of me from all of my previous roles.

I have overworked and over performed in every single role I have undertaken.  I would typically arrive at 8am and leave anywhere between 6 and 8pm, having worked through all of my breaks and most of my lunch, always at break-neck speed, because there was so much work to do.  I worked myself ragged, and I went back in and did it all again the next day, because that’s just what you do.  I’ve done this in every role until I moved to my current city, so that’s a good decade or so.

Throughout most of that decade, I was also with It.  The narcissist.  The ending came about because It was becoming desperate, and eventually manipulated Itself into the position of ‘either you come with me or I go alone’.  I was in a position where I was actively pursuing the career I wanted, and I wasn’t prepared to jeopardize the career I had been working for years to be able to pursue, and I was angry that he would ask that of me while putting his own career first (always first).  So I said no.

Then I went straight back to work the next day.  And continued working, and overworking, and not thinking about anything, and putting on the facade of being a lively, successful young businesswoman.

It’s all caught up with me and there is no escaping the exhaustion that I have denied for so long.  I ignored my body at every turn.  When it screamed ‘rest’ I said ‘harden up’ and went to work.  When it said ‘no more, go home’ I said ‘nope, we’ve still got to finish this document pack’ and kept going.  And when I say I worked fast, I mean I worked bloody fast.  I put out more work in one day than most would in three.  My brain was constantly on the go planning my next move, identifying the path to take to complete the required tasks in the shortest amount of time, and in the right priority order.

Oh, and through most of that I was working a second job on weekends and doing one paper a semester at university.

So yeah, I’m allowed to be burnt out now.  I sound defensive, and that’s because I am, because I expect to be told ‘no, you’re not allowed to be burnt out, harden up and keep on going’, because that’s what I’ve basically been told my entire life in various ways.  Stiff upper lip.  Carry on.  That kind of claptrap.  Telling myself I’m allowed to be burnt out is one thing, but taking a stand and saying ‘I AM ALLOWED TO BE BURNT OUT’ to the world is an entirely different kettle of fish.

Because despite the abuse I’ve been through, despite feeling as though I’m brittle and nothing but bone and sinew, despite almost falling asleep at work on numerous occasions because I am so exhausted, I … I gaslight myself.  It’s so ingrained in me, I gaslight myself.  It has been reinforced so thoroughly in my life that I am not important, what I feel is not important, what I want to do is not important, what I don’t want to do is not important, that I can’t possibly imagine that what I’ve been through is … something.  That it’s actually not good, that I’ve been impacted by it and that feeling is valid and true and reasonable.

It’s a horrific mindset, but I’m battling it.  Slowly but surely.  Because I deserve to not be burnt out.