Tag: Mental Health

Work from office

Yesterday at work, I hid in the quiet room (door shut, no windows), put on headphones with white noise, sat on the floor, and worked for an hour.
That was my only hour of working with code yesterday.

I’m sure all the “creativity” and “spontaneous conversations” I must be making on my work-from-office days makes up for the hit to my productivity and mental health.

Continue reading Work from office

Five checkmark day

These have become rarer than a blue moon.

  • My resting HR has gone up by nearly 20 bpm since the one-before-last post https://c306.net/spkeasy/2020/five-checkmark-day-3/.
  • I haven’t run (or swum or biked) since the last one.
  • I’ve eaten everything I can.
  • I haven’t even walked much.
  • Even though the weight is exactly the same, last time it was a spike. This time it’s the lower end of a stable range.
  • Mental health has taken a toll.
  • Today’s stress level of 39 is the lowest I’ve had in a week. The time before last, it was 16.

I’m a mess. Probably.

Signs

Unconsciously and frequently… grinding teeth, clenching fists & jaws, hunching shoulders.
Unable to focus long enough to read long articles or any books, outside of work.
Frequently snacking on desserts or peanut butter.
Drinking more caffeine than usual.
Restless for activity despite running twice a day.

All are signs to unwind. I need a vacation. I really need to meditate. And, maybe, spend a day at a quiet beach, or hiking around a mountain.

But mainly, meditate.

Continue reading Signs

Tick. Tock.

Score hit 1600 on one page. Up.

Another proposal rejected, apparently withouta second read, by a team marketing solution for second reads. Down.

Spoke to ma pa for nearly 90 minutes. Up.

Had a short, 5-minute angry rant midway. Down.

Rested all day and stretched twice. Up.

Legs are still stiff and hurting, with 10 miles on the training plan tomorrow. Down.

Played and snuggled with boy. Up.

Lying alone on the sofa thinking bad thoughts, when I should be asleep. Down.

Not calm. Calm.

Woke up 3 hours after I’d slept. Clothes, pillow cover, bed sheet – all were wet from sweat. Heavy breathing. Heart racing away. Head overflowing with anxiety. No cause, just anxiety.

I usually remember all my dreams. The good ones, the bad ones, and the weird, confusing ones. I didn’t remember anything. The memory was blank. Head was just … black.

Sat up. Took off the duvet. Waited a few minutes to let the heart rate recover. Tried reading something on the phone to distract the head. Nothing worked.

Got up, opened the window, and put my head out into the cool night air. It helped a bit.
Left the window open.

Opened the Calm app. Took a few deep breaths. Then started a sleep story – the Stephen Fry one. Kept the phone on the side table, and lay down on the dry side of the bed.

Heard some of the story – something about lavendar fields in Italy, IIRC. The light breeze from the open window was cooling the room. Slipped my feet inside the duvet.I could hear Stephen Fry softly talking in the distance. I didn’t gather much of what he was saying. I pulled the duvet over my legs and waist.

Next thing I remember is the alarm waking me up at 5:30.

Thank you, Calm. Thank you, cool wind.

 

Walk the dog…

I wake up early, make a coffee, and start working straight away. So, by 9 or 10 AM, I’ve got in 2-3 hours of work, and need a break. The dog and I go for a walk.

We return, we have breakfast, and I head up to work again. He sleeps.

After another couple of hours of focussed work, I’m in need of a break again by noon/1PM. So, unless R has already claimed it, the dog and I go for another walk.

We return, have lunch, and watch TV for a bit. Then I return to work upstairs, and he goes back to doing what he does best – sleep.

By around 6 or 7 in the evening, my head is screaming for a break again. Literally screaming – tinnitus has been getting quite bad lately. So we do whatever helps. A.k.a. the dog and I go for a walk, again.

I have always loved walking. I went for lone walks after fights with parents as a teenager. I enjoyed going for lone walks in Delhi in my early 20s – it helped living so close to Siri fort forest. I loved walking around the campus in Calcutta, and at the sea front in Bombay.

I occasionally enjoy company on my walks. I go for a daily walk with Dad when I’m in Karnal. I also enjoyed walking around with a few friends in Bombay and Calcutta. Once in a while I even enjoy having R come along for a walk.

More often, I prefer to be alone. Walks are my time to let the mind wander, or focus, or rest. Let the mind do what it wants while the legs, the lungs, and the heart get some loosening. After all most of the non-walking time is just the opposite – mind at work, everything else resting. Having company on a walk means the mind has to engage – converse, debate, listen (to remember). Not rest. Not recover.

Walking with Chewie isn’t the same. He doesn’t tax my mind too much, yet keeps my heart entertained. He loves all the tracks – muddy, sandy, gravely, boggy – that I keep exploring. He loves hills as much as I do. He enjoys exploring smells in the woods. He loves rivers and the sea. He enjoys being out and about, likely more than even me.

So, when I hit a mental road block with work, I look at him, and he’s up for it. We go for a walk.

When I’m anxious or tense, he takes me for a walk.

When I need to clear my head, or escape tension in the house, he indulges me with another walk.

I’m grateful to have him, always, on the walk.

Sometimes when I’m deep in work, when it’s -4°C and horizontal rain outside, when my body is still aching from the previous run/ride/swim/yoga, he comes and nudges my arm away from the keyboard with his nose. He wants to go for a walk.

I coddle him, delay him, curse him, plead with him. Then he wins. We go for a walk.

Continue reading Walk the dog…