The art of standing still
It has taken a long time to begin this journey. Sometimes as life starts happening around you, the best response is denial or as I like to call it - the ostrich strategy. Digging your head in the sand, pretending it is all ok and it will eventually go away. No matter how many books I have read, or wise Instagram posts telling me the only way out is through, I thought I knew better. I thought if I did not acknowledge what I felt, it must go away at some point, right?
So I did what every self respecting push your feelings down person would do (aka Keep calm and carry on) - I overstretched myself with work, social events, travel you name it. The catch flights not feeling mantra was my best friend. I held my life together by the imaginary thread of escapism. I thought that as long as I kept going, I fill my time with an array of useless activities I will not need to face myself. To be fair this worked a gem for awhile. I was so busy I could barely sleep.
I had a demanding job, big team, loads of travel and a thriving Instagram account. People kept on needing my attention and I provided it freely. It helped me to not be present. I was running on a schedule with a few hours left to sleep, sometime being so exhausted I would just lay on the bed in my clothes, no physical strength to change. Yet sleep did not come. I was tired but I could not sleep. I used to fall asleep and wake up 45min later like I was waking up from a nightmare but in hindsight it was pure panic attacks that surfaced the moment I tried to relax.
Catch flights not feelings - I absolutely hate this phrase now as it represents everything that is wrong with our approach to life and wellbeing
My body was showing me things were not OK but I kept on moving on. I was strong, I will go through anything. Then COVID happened. Now most people were forced to face their demons during the pandemic. However my situation, weirdly, became more intense. I had such an insane amount of work during this time that I did no self discovery. I had moved from London to Geneva for a bit, to try something new and then I got locked in there. I definitely did not like it but the thought of going back to London kept me going. I put a goal in front of me and continued to ignore everything that was screaming inside my head that I should just pause, stop and listen.
I listened to a podcast recently with this professor stating people would rather take a mild electric shock than spend more than 6 minutes alone with their thoughts.
When I finally managed to get back to London, I just tried to recreate a world that no longer existed. My marriage was gone prior to COVID but I never processed what happened, I just stuffed it somewhere in the back drawer of my brain. I pretended I could just go back to having the same life sans the +1. All I had held dear in my personal life was completely swept away between that and my overly stretched social calendar, moving to Geneva and COVID. I just had not allowed myself to realise it, yet.
I lost my longstanding fluffy companion on 23/12/2020. Having to to take him on his final journey broke my heart. It was the first sign of me truly breaking on the inside. I had to put my cat to sleep after his kidneys failed. For people who have pets, you know it feels like losing a member of the family. This made me shut down even more and pushed me over my coping mechanism limits.
Some paths you need to walk alone
Feelings started pouring left, right and center. I had lost my personal life completely at this point. Friends had fallen off, my home was gone, my routine was gone, my cat was gone, my marriage was gone and ultimately we were all living in COVID frenzy, so social interaction was minimal.
I thought, going back to London will make all this go away. I managed to rent a small flat in a beautiful London area, realising that the only thing I could hold onto at this point was my job. Yes, really not the best strategy in this world but so many of us do it. If I was a gambler I would say, I went all in on the job. I gave it my undivided attention and commitment. I gave 250%.
I loved my job though. It was a tough time working in travel during COVID but I ultimately loved what I did. I loved what me and my team created in a time that the world stood still and travel was out of the question. But we made it on the other side and I was so proud of us all.
Until that did come crashing down as well. The details of my job story will come later but this last bit of my life pillars going down the toilet crushed me. At this point, my life was literally hanging on my job being good and stable. All of a sudden it was not. The last corner I had carefully crafted for me to feel peace, was being destroyed by sledge hammers - 3 company restructures later. I then got COVID. And I got it bad. 1 day before my birthday. My newly formed romantic relationship at that point was questionable at best. So the world was a dark place. I had nowhere to run and hide.
And here I was. Completely and utterly alone. Laying on the floor in my tiny flat gasping for air, unable to move from pain and lack of strength, thinking how ironic it would be if I now died on my birthday.
There wasn’t going to be anyone who would find me for days. As I type this, I can feel the pain I felt in that specific moment - excruciating. At that point I stood still and looked at my life, to face my demons. Everything I refused to acknowledge came crashing down in my face.
I did not learn to standstill, I was forced to do it. Was it the universe, destiny or pure coincidence I will never know. But this is when I realised I could not control anything as much as I thought I could. In the space of a few days I could not recognise my life while I was laying there, unable to move.
I realised I had to stop and reassess it all. It was not pleasant. Having to face your own self, your own BS, the stories you tell yourself to make yourself feel better, gosh it was tough. I started going inwards. I was so angry with myself, the world, people, you name it. I stopped saying yes to whatever event there was, I stopped posting on Instagram, I stopped using things as distractions. I spent time with me, my thoughts and in silence. Slowly over time (and this process continues to this day, almost 2 years on) I started feeling a little less uncomfortable being there, sitting with myself.
I started recognising everything I had done for myself and that I need to be my own best friend, not my worst enemy and critic. This new way of thinking slowly started coming through, after months and months of feeling uncomfortable in my own skin. I have never been on drugs but I feel the cleansing process probably feels similar. I had to be really strong to not just fall back into my old pattern and do something meaningless just to numb what I felt.
Then life kept on throwing more and more curveballs at me. Walking out of the job I loved, my grandmother’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis, my father being bed bound and having a mini stroke, my relationship being the wildest rollercoaster I have ever been on, it just did not stop. But once I went down the route of facing me, and learning to stand still when I needed it, I started facing these events. I stopped running. I faced the pain, acknowledged it, let it peak and I slowly put it away.
Hence why I call it the art of standing still. It takes a lifetime to master it and we are just beginning. If you find anything in this blog post that resonates, I would love to have you on this journey, let’s walk together.
10/10/2023 is World Mental Health Day:If you, or anyone you know is struggling with Mental health please reach out for support. There are many organisations out there, helping people every day with no judgement.