This doesn’t look like a burnt out person to you, does it? Just another happy person at a fun party. That’s what I thought too. I was too busy to bother with bathroom breaks or looking in the mirror very often, but I felt like things were going OK. At least, it seems I was doing a great job of keeping up appearances.
I have been a stressed out person and delinquent blogger for the past 3 weeks. Princess Lisa came to visit around Halloween and I had so much to tell you about…but I never got around to it because work became insanely busy. I’ve been prepping to host an event for a very persnickety and demanding client, and as that date drew closer, I was torn further and further away from the things I love: blogging, reading, exercise, good meals, good sleep. I’m happy to tell you that despite quite a few hitches along the way, the event went quite well, and in the eyes of my superiors, seems to be a career high for me, which is great. But for me personally, this joins the list of my “never again” health lows.
You know how when you read that a celebrity has been admitted to the hospital for exhaustion, and you roll your eyes and think “We’re all exhausted, sweetie. Repping your perfume line can NOT be that hard. Get a life.” Well, I thought it was ridiculous too, until this weekend. The week was jam packed and I was literally in charge of everything, running around like a chicken with my head cut off. I was operating completely on adrenaline, and it worked. But then Friday hit, and I had no more event to contend with and no more adrenaline available. And I felt like I got hit by a train. My heart was racing, I was dizzy, had a headache, breath was shallow. I was scared. My friends told me to eat, drink, and sleep, and I would get better, but I didn’t. I was too tired to eat, too wired to relax, and so utterly exhausted, but I couldn’t sleep. At 3am on Saturday morning, I got out of bed and drove myself to the hospital. Enough was enough.
I got stuck in a lovely bed beside some girl who was super high on mushrooms and wouldn’t stop crying. That was great for my headache. But the doctor was very nice. They ran an ECG and all vitals on me and assured me that I wasn’t dying; I just needed to get back to my regular routine. At 5 am they sent me home with some Ativan so I could sleep. I chugged a Powerade and took my pill and slept for five hours straight. It felt like heaven.
Looking back, I had been sleeping 2-4 hours per night for two weeks. I had been eating maybe 1000 calories a day, and most of them after 5pm. I had exercised twice in two weeks. What had happened to my life? My whole universe had changed in pursuit of appeasing others, and to what end? A very scary one, personally.
I know sometimes we get tired: tired of our jobs, tired of our kids, our work, our commitments, our workouts, our meal plans. And that is OK. It is OK to admit you are tired. And it is OK to ask for help. I didn’t do either of those things and, in an attempt to look like some sort of office hero, put on a great show…but landed myself in the ER. I’m happy to say that with just that little bit of medication, some real rest, hydration, and food, I’m back to feeling like myself, and will be back to blogging soon. But take this as a real warning for yourselves: we all try to be superwoman and save the day…but don’t forget to think about how far you will go before YOU need saving.