It was the job of my dreams – running my own degree programme at a new university. My co-workers were all about change and making things happen. The students were eager to access the new lives their degrees would bring them. It was beyond exciting. I would jump out of bed in the morning and work late into the evening. I was totally immersed in what I was doing. I was blissfully happy as I knew I was making a massive difference to the lives of other people.
I loved my office. When the door was open, it was open-door time! Anyone and everyone was welcome to talk to me. I could also lock myself in when I needed to focus and be creative. The rate of change was dynamic and invigorating. I was surfing the crest of an educational wave and I loved it. Yes, I had to concentrate but entering a flow state was effortless. The days shot past. Each a perfect 10.
Over time meeting up with friends outside work proved too distracting.
I stopped seeing anyone who was not connected to the work I was doing.
I stayed focused, often I would skip lunch, but that didn’t matter because I had a bag of barley sugars in my desk drawer and the drinks machine in the foyer had great hot chocolate. I was an in-demand sugar-fuelled busy woman.
I loved it.
However, an underlying problem was about to erupt. There was one part of the job I didn’t like, administration. While I could do it, I didn’t think it was a good use of my time. I resented the ever-growing amount landing on my desk. I continued to plough through, leaving the admin till the end of the day when I was tired and gulping down the hot sugary drinks and sweets to get me through.
In five years, I didn’t miss a single day’s work until the morning I woke up and couldn’t move my neck.
I was literally stuck looking to my right; the pain was unbelievable. I managed to get a doctor’s appointment and was told to rest, take paracetamol and that I would be fine the next day. I hated missing work and being out of the loop, but it was the first day off in five years, and as I wasn’t feeling great, I popped a couple of paracetamol and fell asleep.
While I did recover, gradually over the next few years, more pains crept in. I managed to hide them by keeping busy. However, my back, neck and shoulders would regularly seize up in the evenings and weekends. I began to get migraines. I had no energy left to enjoy life. My focus was always on work; if I wasn’t marking, I was engaged in R&D. The only time I took for myself was visiting the chiropractor, which I did at least once a fortnight. My muscles were constantly in spasm and I would get excruciating headaches, back, neck and shoulder pain.
My skeletal frame, like my self-care, was no longer in alignment. I was not who I was supposed to be. While I had initially loved the work I was doing, it had somehow morphed more into administration and less strategy – I was unhappy. I excel in planning for the future and focus on designing opportunities. I value not doing the same thing day in day out. My talents had limited outlet.
My body started to reflect what my brain didn’t want to acknowledge; I was stuck. Even changing the work environment didn’t help; in fact, the headaches got worse. My chiropractor was like a best friend putting me back together every few weeks as I pulled myself apart. It was time to go freelance. I started presenting and delivering various study skills and techniques across the UK. I met 1000s of people who were ready and willing for change. I got back into R&D, exploring different coaching modalities and personal development programmes and slipped into consulting. Once again, I was having the time of my life as I helped people share and develop their passions, skills and talents in all aspects of their life.
I know what it’s like to be besotted with work. I know what it’s like to run a business and make mistakes. I know it’s vital to be true to yourself. You must look after yourself because without that everything else suffers. I discovered the hard way that self-investment is the most important investment you’ll ever make.