June 29, 2005
Chronic fatigue syndrome and workaholics
Today I am going to have a serious rant about…. workaholics.
I have had quite enough of people who seem to pour untold energy into work, do without breaks, come in early and leave late. There is a new chappy in my office who is doing this, and as a result everybody thinks he’s the best thing since sliced bread. I must look like a complete lazy pants compared to him – coming in at 9am, taking a lunch hour and leaving at 5.30pm. Heavens to Betsy! How could I be so bold?! The thing is, I still get all my work done, often before deadline. If I worked like that I would last about two days then drop with exhaustion. I learnt a long time ago that I can only usefully work for short intense periods, then I need a break. After the break I am then fit to work again. But somehow, in order to gain brownie points in the office you have to martyr yourself to the company and chain yourself to your computer terminal. Frankly I am not paid enough to do that. I’m not physically equipped either. If I hear another word about how dedicated this bloke is I might just scream. What people don’t realise is I cam dedicated, I am just painfully aware of my limitations!
It doesn’t help that I am currently going out with someone who appears to be able to work seven days a week, 20 hours a day, have medical issues, yet still manage. How does that work? And where do I fit in? I suppose I have spent so long planning my time down to the last minute, timetabling in rest, fun, sleep, food and recovery, I have ceased to understand those who don’t do it. I guess I am the exception.
I am more tired than usual this week due to my GP… On Friday I went to see him for a check-up. He was interested to hear about my mental state (slightly frayed since entering into a relationship – I know how to cope alone, with someone there somehow it is more complicated). Anyway, generally things are fine, so, as discussed a few months ago, he suggested changing over the fluoxetine. To recap, I’m currently on citalopram, an SSRI, but he is concerned because I have been on it for five years on and off and the long-term side effects are unknown. I have to say, when he said it was time to change I was filled with horror. New anti-depressants mean new side effects. But that was put in its place by his suggestion that I have recurring depression and I may have to accept being o this medication for some time to come. He hinted that I may just have to live with this for the rest of my life. I was, perhaps naively, shocked by this. It threw me into turmoil for the next couple of days, and if I didn’t feel fragile before the appointment, I certainly did afterwards.
I know it’s just the same as someone taking blood pressure pills or something, but you cannot help change the view of yourself when someone tells you that you are a chronic depressive.
So, thus far, the only side effect seems to be extreme sleepiness. I went home to watch some tennis at lunch time today (marvelling at the energy these athletes have) and virtually dropped off. Luckily I woke up soon enough to get back to work in time.
The boss has been very understanding thankfully and knows I may take a while to come back down to earth. This is lucky because I am struggling to explain things to people at the moment. It is like my brain has been filled with treacle and is working a bit slower than usual, which is somewhat annoying. Speed of wit, writing and work is one of my better qualities. Patience is not.
Anyway, moan moan, whinge whinge, such is life.
Posted by Sleepy Sal on June 29, 2005 10:07 AM