My chronic condition is telling me something about the importance of downtime

My feet (along with the rest of me, it feels important to add) are firmly back in the UK after a wonderful, surreal two month Mallorcan work adventure and I’m currently ~gasp~ not working for a few weeks. By choice. Say what?

Until this year, I’ve never not worked since I earned myself a quite spectacular £2.50 an hour aged 14, selling baked goods of a Saturday sporting a mandatory hair net that I really couldn’t pull off. Keep pushing, keep climbing, keep working, always. Society and the construct of the 9-5 loves to tell us we’ve got to ALWAYS BE ON THE GRIND DAMMIT but part of my decision to go freelance at 30 was to afford myself -and my health- some flexibility. A combination of creatively demanding and hugely rewarding stints, followed by calmer little breaks to decompress, to check in on my not-so-minor chronic condition, and to enjoy the company of my friends, family… and myself.

Somehow, so far at least, it’s worked. This year I’ve taken minor periods of elected downtime for the first time in my whole professional life. I’ve exercised, slept, read, explored, socialised, created i.e. kept myself merrily occupied at my own pace… and crucially I’ve been able to properly check in on my type 1 diabetes and assess whether I’m doing right by my body, as opposed to just reacting and responding to my blood sugars while I’m busy trying to handle the rest of my life.

This might sound self-indulgent or luxurious or lucky, but I’ve worked hard to design it this way and there ain’t no shame in taking care of yourself, honey. I LOVE my work, and I also love being able to do my work properly, which really comes from being in good general health. By that I mean ‘whole person health’ which definitely isn’t about what I can squat, or what I weigh. FYI it’s also empowering AS HELL to take bold, unapologetic steps to being the conscious advocate of your own wellbeing. This may all sound a bit unscientific, or idealistic, but tellingly in both breaks this year my insulin requirements have reduced by around 20%. This, from my limited actual medical knowledge, is thanks to reduced cortisol levels (the stress hormone which increases blood sugar levels) AKA the reduced rat-race chaotic hamster-wheel pace of life that I generally find myself running at because that’s seemingly how I operate, like many who have friends/work/relationships/medical concerns/children to juggle.

So basically (and perhaps obviously), during this downtime my body isn’t working as furiously to try and keep up with the general pace of my lovely, busy, glorious but at times somewhat hectic life. It sounds pretty straightforward, but as far as I can see, we (collective ‘we’) are generally intent on not paying much attention to this at all. To keep going in our professional lives for fear of stepping outside of ‘the done thing’ (been there done it), or in our emotionally damaging relationships (been there done it) or in our damaging routines that don’t allow us to switch off (sensing a pattern?) even when our bodies are trying to tell us it’s coming at a cost. Stress goes much further, much deeper than feeling a bit tired. Cortisol is linked to blood pressure, to memory function, to weight… many things beyond insulin sensitivity, and these are things that affect us all – chronic condition or no chronic condition. It’s also why I constantly wang on about blood sugars being so much more than just a number on a screen. How taking those numbers as the definition of whether your control is ‘good’ or ‘bad’ (YUCK) is doing yourself a gross disservice, and dismissing all the other things that are going on in your life – and thus your body – which contribute to those numbers.

I’m not suggesting that we all jack in our jobs and shun our responsibilities – hello, bills to pay. I have no desire to end up languishing as my bum cheeks form a serious indentation in the sofa, and the amazing satisfaction I get from my work is why I do what I do. We don’t often have the choice to dodge the commute, or take naps on demand. BUT it does make me think about:

1. What is and isn’t worth getting stressed about, and what I can and cannot do about those stresses;
2. The negative wastage that creeps in. The low level stuff that doesn’t feel like a big deal but clearly all adds up to something quite significant when it comes to hormones;
3. My chronic illness deserves to be taken seriously, because every aspect of my life then benefits, including the people around me and the people employing me;
4. Whether we might have got it all wrong, this always and forever working ourselves into the ground because everyone else is busy and earning more and seemingly achieving more (but also, if we look at the general health of the nation, distracted and knackered and slowly losing their minds).

These little active but restful periods in which I take a breath, and reassess, and finally book in for those blood tests, get that niggling shoulder pain sorted and that leaky tap fixed – they’re now as important to me as the joyous, creative work I do that affords them, because it gives me the elusive B A L A N C E – or a version of it at least that feels right for me and this particular chapter of my life. A balance which I’m hoping will pay off in the long term, when I’m not written off at 50 for health reasons and languishing as my bum cheeks form a serious indentation in the sofa.