Rest and relaxation

Again the sun was beaming and I had promised myself yesterday, no matter how I felt, I would rise, shower and get moving. After sleeping through the alarm again today, I finally woke realising that with a hurried shower and phone booking I could make it to yoga.

I am so sick and tired of being sore and in pain I thought yoga could not make it any worse, and I definitely needed the relaxation excercises. Driving up to Mornington I began gnawing at my fingernails.

My anxiety levels are out of control.

Walking in to the hospital I did not feel my usual relief at arriving at my safe place. Sitting in the admission booth I felt nervy and uncomfortable. Of course the computer would go haywire and make the admission process tedious and sluggish. The printer refused to print my labels for my wrist band.

I began to feel that it wasn't meant to happen and that I should just turn around and go home, which made me angry that I had just spent my last twenty dollars on petrol for the return trip.

After trying to reassure the agitated booking clerk that I was okay with the delay, when I actually wasn't. I had to smile politely and head directly to the staircase to go towards the yoga session after the recalcitrant printer had spewed out enough labels for a seven week stay.

They were expecting me, thanks to the hurried phone call and had left one door ajar. The session had not begun and Felicity was arranging chairs, mats and blue cubes and straps. My curiousity was piqued. We had never used this equipment before. Felicity explained that today we would be working on lower backs and she hoped that it wouldn't be a problem for me. Again she reinforced that if any of us felt discomfort or pain she would adapt the stretches and poses.

My day began to look up after I realised that any discomfort was only temporary and after the breathing and relaxation had taken hold I suddenly had no pain! How good it felt to work the lower back and spine, loosening all the previously throbbing hurt places. I began to smile and my face totally relaxed.

It was a fantastic start to the day.

Add to this that two of the younger in-patients were women I had shared the ward with earlier this year, I felt instantly at ease. We enjoyed catching up and felt a solidarity that can only be experienced by women who know intuitively what it is like to be struggling to stay well. We then sat together with one of the nurse counsellors, Brigit, and had a long de-brief session, particularly about wellness in the outside world. I really miss these sessions on the days when I have to attend Lilydale for work meetings.

The contradiction that I feel is quite curious.

On the one hand I need to feel connected to my old workplace and alma mater, but on the other I am drawn to being with people who have 'walked in my shoes'. We are apart from the people in the outside world yet together we feel that we are the normal ones. I miss this sense of empathy and understanding, but I know I cannot rely on living in an artificial world where the 'real world' is held at bay and problems left outside.

It is just that I am tired of fighting for every moment of quietude, sanity, logic and stability. I am tired of some important and influential people thinking that over my three and a half years of PhD candidature I have been slack. Every 'normal' worker gets four weeks annual leave and a similar amount of sick leave. Do I? Have I?

In the last three years I have used only one week of my holidays for that purpose; the week I booked in 2007 for a brief stay in Portugal after my Madrid conference presentation. Yep, a holiday. The very one that was put on hold because I fell down the marble steps at the Conference venue.

That same holiday which had me attending the Hospital Principessa in Madrid, having xrays, and my archilles tendons encased in bandages and moon boots whilst I reclined on the bed in the Holiday Inn, drugged with anti-inflamatories and pain killers.

Hmm relaxing hoiliday, that's fore sure.

So the following two years worth of annual leave?

These weeks were spent hopsitalised battling clinical depression.

Yep, great holidays those, also.

I guess I did have one week off last July after lap-banding surgery... or was that only four days in Ballarat, in winter with me checking emails morning and night to ensure my boss had what she needed whilst attending a Conference in Paris.

Then again this year another hospitalisation, for the same reason, clinical depression. A great time of relaxation with me accessing the internet everyday formatting a difficult thesis for a colleague and friend, much to the cost of my own recovery.

Another one of my famous 'holidays'.

• When do all these medical certificates be seen as legitimate interruptions to my PhD candidature?
• Am I being delusional counting these times/weeks/months as normal candidature times?
• Am I mistaken to count them as annual leave?

The other mistake I have made and paid (am paying) a substantial price for doing, is thinking that any Conferences I have attended are actually holidays!

Yep, the single days before or after the Conferences that allowed me to see the beautiful and exciting cities that was hosting these events, may not actually constitute holidays.

I always underestimate the intensity of focus required for actively listening to presentations and papers for three or four days consecutively and ensuring that my notes are summarised clearly at night, just to ensure I have everything in a useful form, for use on my return and ongoing study.

What on earth made me think that simply going out to dinner with other delegrates meant that these were holidays?

Every dinner held times for spontaneity and laughter, but also insightful intellectual discussions. They are no different to workplace conversations and brainstorming... part of work!

Yep, again these were definitely holidays weren't they?

Is it any wonder I am mentally exhausted? I need a break.

Why should I be made feel guilty for not pushing myslef to complete my candidature by June, just because if I apply to extend my candudature period, I might end up hospitalised in November (because the Xmas period is often emotionally stressful and I am often at risk of mania in November)? Perhaps, I might fall into mania only because people in my workplace have bullied me so attrociously and emotionally drained me, used me and undervalued my skills throughout the year leading up to November?

So many people (academics) underestimate the time certain tasks take to do, and when paid in hourly rates the pressure is on me to finish these tasks no matter how long they take, rather than have me be paid for the hours expended.

The result is unrealistic expectations, undervaluing the actual work being done, lack of knowledge of professional dtp rather than typing,limitations of available software for the tasks, and many more constraints which sees me working many, many unpaid hours.

Of course I break down under the stress.

Anybody would.

Could it possibly be that by allowing myself a bit of slack, to focus on my wellbeing, I just might be able to avoid hospitalisation?

• Am I also not permitted to be like a normal person?
• Who says I need less of a holiday with quiet relaxation for myself than another worker who needs to spend quality time with partner and family when it suits their family timeframes?
• Why are my individual wellness needs of less importance than other people's holidays, people who do not battle chronic illness?
• Are ill/disabled workers less entitled to holidays because they have different needs?
• Should my productivity be gauged by how much time I have off (hospital or not) or should it be judged upon the abilities and competencies I demonstrate at work?
• Since when do workplaces have the legislative right to discriminate based upon a worker's mental illness?

This form of unreasonable reaction and lack of understanding and empathy ensures that as a worker I will fall victim to stress-related breakdowns.

This is an incidious form of workplace bullying.

I am tired of fighting for my rights.


I guess I need a holiday!