Is There a Happy Ending for a Chronic Workaholic?

TODAY

One year into my reversion to normal life, nature has finally grabbed hold of my attention. In details this time, and so much more.

But not so long ago…

Whenever I could spare a half hour or so of walks in the park, in the woods or in nature reserves, I was in the moment but just so.

I noted the flow of the water, sure, and took in the verdant growth of greens in summer.

In winter, I gazed and get depressed over the bald trees, each leafless branch seemed to reach out to me, begging for a crumb of attention.

But I paid no mind to this begging. I just breathed in the fresh energy from nature. My brain, all the while, simply yearned to rush home to get some more sleep…

When working from home is not the norm

With writing assignments or book contracts, I never had to apply. The opposite was true, however, with jobs outside creative and academic writing.

Encouraged by my daughter, I applied for a job on December 2010 to do quality control on business reports. The company was then based in Singapore. I was in Manila. It was a work-from-home arrangement, Monday to Friday. The job would be done online.

The interview, done online, was a breeze. I felt upbeat. Should I get the job, I thought I could still work on my writing projects on weekends.

I was also slated to take over as editor of a quarterly magazine whose publisher was based in London. The magazine, in which I was currently writing for and doing edits on some articles at the time, was being circulated in Europe among the Filipino communities.

The current year was to end for me with a big bang, with dazzling financial prospects for the new year. Corporate job five days a week, and writing on Saturdays and Sundays.

Workaholic me was on a roll.

Work plans are not always aligned with expectations

So I got the job. The salary offered to me three days before Christmas, over the phone, was generous. It was over and above what I expected.

I could not jump up and down in glee when I put down the phone. I was knackered. I haven’t slept for two days working online - writing, editing and coordinating with the current editor and layout artist of the London magazine - and the New Year issue was not finished yet.

When it was done and delivered to the printers, I must have slept until the New Year rang in. That is, between reading the fine print of my new job contract and studying the voluminous documents sent to me for my new role.

Briefly, my corporate job did not afford me weekend time for the magazine. It did spare me weekends, though, only for the next nine months to work on my English grammar book. There was no escaping from it. Before getting the Singapore job, I had signed the contract to finish the book in seven months.

My family griped about needing to make an “appointment” with me first for their occasional visit. In other words, they had to inform me first if they wanted to see me, and do I have time for them? They were so used to me working all the time, even in my sleep.

A sleep-deprived workaholic

The job I found myself was planets away from the world I knew. Some writing was involved but not the creative and academic type I was used to doing.

This sunrise industry, which is still gaining huge relevancy in businesses everywhere, afforded me enormous learning and exposure on various topics, matters and concerns almost on a daily basis – including weekends.

It would not be an exaggeration when I say that I was often sleep-deprived during most of the past 10 years in my corporate job. But the lack of sleep could not be rightly attributed to the job. It was self-inflicted. I routinely switched residences between Asia and Europe.

With seven or eight hours’ time difference, I had to work during unholy hours when in England. Everyone was amazed at how I did it: sleeping four hours maximum in the morning, and then another hour in the evening before I reported for work.

I was amazed, too, and thankful that I didn’t get ill during those years. My love for this work and my commitment to my responsibilities were likely the reasons I managed.

Goodbye to all-the-time working, hello to normal living

There comes a time, however, when what matters most in life has to be prioritized.

I’m referring to family.

The ones who are there forever for you, even if they were temporarily relegated in the background. The ones who are just waiting for your reentry into what most people regard as normal life.

One’s health matters greatly, too. And, despite soft measures to lighten my work-related stresses, I felt that it was time to embrace my family’s appeal that I quit my work.

And so I bid adieu to my chronic work addiction.

It was terrifying at first  -  not to wake up to the sound of the alarm ringing, or the multi-tasking that was the norm, or mobile gadgets pinging at the same time - but, hey, even chronic workaholics like me could get used to re-entry into stress-free mode.

TODAY

One year into my reversion to normal life, nature has started to keenly grab my attention while on nature walks.

Whereas before, only the weeds would register in my mind. Now, I see the beauty of large-flowered evening primroses or the marjoram in the midst of the weeds.

Whereas before, when I see a family of geese, I did not appreciate how the parent goose looks after its goslings as they feed. Now I do.

When I see trees, I used to just admire their beauty. Now, their beauty speaks to me in a louder voice as I behold them against the blue of the sky and the clouds and the simpering sun.

And I even notice, with vigorous vehemence against polluters, the trash on the waterway that are collected by the floating trash bin filters.

Nature no longer begs me to pay attention. As I breathe fresh energy from it, my revitalized mind takes in lessons and ideas; I do not yearn anymore to rush home to get more sleep.

Or if I do, it would only be to do some writing. No rush. No deadlines.

This is me. I found the real me - finally. I’m into living again.

***

Thank you for reading!

First published here.

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