It’s pretty common in my field to feel a strange combination of elation and depression after the end of the busy season. There is elation at the idea of free time, sunshine, a return to family and friends, and a sense of balance. Yet there is still some depression over the end of a race; a race run as hard as you could possibly run it with coworkers who are your friends. It isn’t so much that I want to jump back into busy season – far from it. It is just hard to find a direction when I’m no longer running from one fire-drill to the next; hard to adjust physically and emotionally to a different pace of life.
The first few days after the end of busy season are something like a sugar crash or a hangover on steroids. It feels like every cell in my body has been storing up the pain and injury I’ve caused it over the last three months, and they are only now bringing these ills to my attention. After months of poor diet, little exercise, and even less sleep, I am now reminded that a diet of orange juice and swiss cake rolls is maybe not the best idea. Every year I get sick right after busy season, and every year it surprises me.
First I have to work through the physical effects of the crash. I need to catch up on sleep, and vegetables, and quiet time. Next I’ll have to deal with the emotional crash and depression that tend to follow. Right now I’m somewhere in the middle of those two phases. I’m still catching up on sleep and rest and quiet time, but I’m also starting to notice the emotional fallout, and I don’t know quite what to do with it.
It is 12:36am, and I don’t know who to call. I have wonderful, supportive people in my life who would absolutely wake up to talk me through this, but I don’t really want them to. This morning at the hospital I told one of the staff that I was still not okay, and she offered suggestions of work I could do to help myself fix this. She laid out the foundations of a plan – a checklist of things to do, but I don’t feel ready for that quite yet. I approached her not knowing what I needed, but felt myself shutting down and withdrawing when she went down the path of trying to fix things. I can’t go there yet.
Yesterday at the hospital several of the nurses noticed I was not doing well, and one in particular approached me to ask if I was okay, if there was anything I needed. The concern and worry were clear on her face, and I very nearly hugged her. I didn’t realize it at the time, but that is what I needed; probably what I still need. Support and care without a list of things to do and solutions attached. Just a listening ear, a held hand, and time. But I’m so good at standing on my own two feet and pushing through things that I don’t have such supports readily available around me. I’m not good at accepting that kind of support until I no longer really need it much, and as a result I don’t know where to find it when I do need it. When I’m strong enough to be pushed a little, when I’m ready for ideas and solutions, I’ll have plenty of people to call on. But right now? I’m noticing something I’m missing in my world.
For now, I think I’ll just go to sleep and see if tomorrow brings a better day. One step at a time, I’ll get through this. I always do.
