Tag: mental health

26 Pairs of Yoga Pants and a Forced Vacation

There is nothing more fun than getting sick on vacation. Unfortunately, this is not the first time—and probably not the last.

When we went to China, pre-COVID, I came back with a nasty respiratory infection that took three months and antibiotics to clear. In Thailand, again pre-COVID, I had a terrible case of vertigo that completely threw me off. In Hawaii, two months before COVID, I came back with severe bronchitis and almost broke a rib from coughing. And this pattern has just continued through the years.

I am now on a forced vacation. Our workplace goes through a shutdown during the December holidays, and once again, my lungs are not happy. Interestingly, all my symptoms started after getting a flu shot. Coincidence? Maybe.

I had many plans for this shutdown: tidying my home office, planning ahead for 2026 for my side hustles, and going through my closet to donate all the clothes I no longer like or haven’t worn in ages.

Instead, I sat with a cup of tea, a tissue in hand, and felt miserable. Today, I felt a little better and managed to go through one shelf. To my great surprise, I discovered I own 26 pairs of yoga pants. When I told my friend, she asked, “Do you wear them all?”

Of course not, I replied. I wear the same four pairs that are always on top. So six pairs went into the donation pile, three pairs with holes went straight into the trash—without a proper Marie Kondo goodbye. It’s not a lot, but I’m celebrating this small win.

Am I upset that I got sick? Yes. But it did force me to rest and to pause. I watched silly TV shows, videos of my favorite—Nate the Hoof Guy—and took naps. In a way, it gave me permission to slow down.

I still have a couple more days off, and who knows what I’ll accomplish—if anything. And that’s absolutely okay.

 Choosing Purpose Over Pay

I choose to live my life with purpose and joy—and that choice extends to my work.

I worked eleven days in a row again—not by choice, but by necessity. Part of it was for my division, and part of it was for our parent company.

As my direct boss kept pointing out, “You’re not getting paid extra for this—why are you doing it?”

I’m an exempt employee, so in reality, it doesn’t matter how much I work. I could work two hours or twenty-four in a day, and my salary would stay the same. Maybe my bonus will be bigger, but I don’t have high hopes for that.

Yes, I wasn’t paid extra for this assignment. But I’m at a stage in my life—and my career—where I care deeply about having interest in what I do. I outgrew my current job years ago and chose to stay because it gives me flexibility. That flexibility allows me to take care of my two other loves (besides my husband and kids): my dog and my Pilates class. It also gives me the freedom to manage my side hustles.

When my boss mentioned—again—that I shouldn’t be working for another division because I wasn’t getting paid, I was taken aback. It wasn’t the response I expected, especially from someone in management.

I later told my husband how everything went down, and he pointed out that her reaction reflected her perspective, likely shaped by her own issues with management, and was not a reflection of my actions.

He was right, of course. I might even tell him that one day.

In the meantime, I’ll continue carving my own path at work—choosing projects that bring me joy and fulfillment—until the day I decide to retire and turn my side hustles into my full-time focus.

Life in the driver’s seat

One of my favorite radio personalities used to start his show by saying, “Today is better than most, but not as good as some.”
 Today was one of those not as good as some days.

We got the latest blood test results, and besides not getting the news we were hoping for, we didn’t get any answers about why the seizure happened in the first place. Instead, the results only led to more questions—and more anxiety. It feels like we’re not even close to understanding what’s really going on, let alone finding a solution.

The stress, anxiety, disappointment, and resulting anger definitely made themselves known. I tend to hide my anxiety better than my “passenger prince”—which probably explains my stress-induced autoimmune issues.

While the focus is on him, his treatment, and his recovery, I keep reminding myself that I need to take care of myself too.
My tears were well hidden behind my sunglasses and the need to keep my eyes on the road. He didn’t see—or maybe didn’t notice—my mood.

Life in the driver’s seat isn’t fun. There’s no GPS to route us to a fun destination. But just like the car I drive, maintenance is required—to keep both the vehicle and me running.

Is Pilates a Form of Torture? Maybe. But It’s My Stress Relief! 

I love Pilates and most of the instructors at my studio. But some days, a class feels like a game of Twister — a game that, if I were 20 years (or even ten) younger, might have felt easy.

These days, though, each class is a little harder. My body hurts. And yet I keep going, again and again, and accept the pain.

This morning’s Twister routine? One hand on the box, one hand on the reformer bar, one leg on the shoulder block, and the other leg in the air. It hurts just to describe it. Somehow, I managed to tackle all these instructions. Honestly, I was just grateful the instructor didn’t ask us to sing a song — that would’ve been the end of me.

After all that, she came over and corrected my posture for the next exercise. Apparently, my leg is capable of a 90-degree angle. She told me she did it out of “love.” Probably a love of pain.

And yet, I go three to four times a week and wonder: how bad would it be if I didn’t take Pilates?

Why do I do this to myself? Because it’s good for my body — even if I hate it sometimes — and it’s very good for my soul.

Two months ago, my husband had a seizure. Since then, my regular stress life has turned into full-blown stress — with no relief in sight. Stress relief, for me, means not thinking for a little while. But when you’re stressed, your mind races, and you can’t stop thinking.

Enter: Pilates.

I get so caught up in the Twister-like shenanigans during class that thinking becomes impossible. The only thing on my mind is: Is my balance working? Are all my body parts where they’re supposed to be?

I don’t care that I’m not wearing a cute matching Pilates outfit. All that matters in that class is stress relief.

I am stronger now — at least physically. Mentally, my brain is still trying to figure out all those crazy Pilates moves… without falling.

“Apparently, ‘I’ Is a Problem”

This past week, I was reprimanded at work—verbally, of course. They never put anything in writing.

No, I didn’t do anything outrageous. I sent an email about IT problems in the office. Since the IT guy was scheduled to stop by, I wrote that I needed something fixed.

The horror. Apparently, writing “I need” instead of “we need” is a big enough deal to warrant a call from my boss.

To clarify: the IT problems were specific to me. I was the one whose internet wasn’t working. I was the one using my personal hotspot and personal cell phone to get work done.

Still, my boss looked me in the eye and told me it was inappropriate to write “I.” I asked if she was serious. She was.

But wait—there’s more.

Last month, I got pulled aside because “someone” heard me say I had maxed out my vacation days and needed to start using them. That was apparently gossip-worthy.

This is a pattern. I keep getting spoken to—always verbally, never formally—about things “someone” heard me say.

What’s strange is that this is not a terrible place to work. Most people are kind, helpful, and just trying to do their jobs. But management? That’s another story.

Ironically, my annual review was glowing, and my bonus was great. So, clearly, I’m doing something right. Right?

We even did harassment training earlier this year. It had a section on bullying and toxic behavior. I guess some folks in management skipped that part.

Let me be clear:

  • Is this nitpicking? Yes.
  • Is it creating a culture of fear and second-guessing? Absolutely.
  • Is it starting to feel toxic? More and more.
  • Am I being targeted? It really feels like it.
  • Why? I honestly have no idea.

This is a private, family-owned company. I’m not a threat. I’m not gunning for anyone’s job. I just want to do my work, collect my paycheck, and go home to my dog.

When my boss called me about the email, I said what I’ve been thinking: “This feels like harassment.” I asked that future complaints be formal and in writing.

Not holding my breath on that one.

So now I’m wondering:
Do I just show up this week and wait for whatever “someone” says next?
Do I say nothing?
Do I start documenting everything and protect myself?

I don’t know the answer yet. But I do know this: I’m not crazy. And I’m not alone.

No One Gave Me a Dragon


I woke up with a panic attack at 1 a.m. last night. It took me three hours to calm down and fall asleep again. Needless to say, I’m exhausted this morning.
My husband asked me what was bothering me, and it took me a while to figure it out. I had to retrace all my steps from the day before. Eventually, I remembered a conversation I had with a coworker—we were talking about that odd feeling you get when you return to work after a long vacation.
I told him that ever since my husband started his new job, he no longer experiences that “back to work” anxiety. For those of us who dread Monday even after a regular weekend, that kind of peace feels like a distant dream.
My husband was laid off at the beginning of 2024 from one of those massive high-tech companies. It was the kind of job that felt like it would never end—6 a.m. and 10 p.m. meetings with overseas teams, constant Slack pings, nonstop reporting. He didn’t like it, even though the pay was great. Honestly, he was pretty unhappy.
When the layoffs began, they crept closer and closer to his division—until they finally reached him.
It took some time, but he eventually found a new job. It doesn’t come with high-tech pay, but it does come with something better: boundaries. Normal working hours. The ability to mentally switch from work mode to home mode.
He recently returned from a ten-day bike trip in Europe with our son—and went back to work without any stress or anxiety. It’s really nice to see him like this.
Unfortunately, that’s not how things feel for me.
Some days, my work feels like a Game of Thrones episode—but no one is giving me a dragon. And honestly, I really want a dragon.
Office politics aren’t my favorite. Working with toxic coworkers? Even less so. But the worst part is waking up in the middle of the night with a work-related panic attack.
I don’t have the answers yet about what comes next. I need time to think. I’ll figure it out eventually—dragon or no dragon.

#WorkAnxiety #BurnoutIsReal #MentalHealthMatters #WorkLifeBalance #BlogPost #GameOfThronesMood

My support group

I had a fun day today, I finally had a fun day with my close friends. We  drove to the  big city, had a great brunch and had a great time all around. But the best time we had was not at brunch or sightseeing, it was actually when we were stuck in a traffic jam for two hours.

For two hours we spoke honestly and openly and it was great, most importantly we actually listened to each other without judgment. We figured out we haven’t had time together like this in a couple of years. Before the pandemic we traveled together and saw each other  frequently, but somewhere during the pandemic we didn’t get together as much as we could and when we did it was  with our spouses and families as this was our covid bubble.

I didn’t realize how much I needed our girl time until today. We tend to forget how much we need our close friends and the emotional support we provide them and they provide us. They say that those with close friends have healthier and better lives. These amazing women are the ones that when they see I can’t figure out what the conversation is around me (I have severe hearing loss) tell me what’s going on and make sure that with all my food allergies I have something to eat. These women were my support when I lost my hearing, broke my foot and were my support through all my other mishaps and I am happy they are in my life.

I came home with renewed  energy and the feeling that with their support I can handle anything else the universe throws my way. 

Your Commitment to Yourself

It’s the last two days of the year and my feed and email is all flooded with New Year resolutions, ads for sport equipment and organization hacks. However, nothing about taking care of yourself and your mental health in the upcoming year.

Granted having an organized house or exercising does help you mentally but these are side effects and not a purpose. Not only that, what will happen when we stop going to the gym or when we realize our house is still messy and none of our goals, achievable or not, have been met?

Instead I propose we commit to take care of our mental health and put ourselves first. The disorganized closet can wait as can the resolution to go to the gym every day. But if for some reason orgnization is your mental health path, by all means commit to it, Marie Kondo your house!

Our goals need to be goals that will not only not set us up for failure but will help us grow and find our inner peace what ever works for you. You might need to take time to see figure out the path to your mental health, so commit to discovering it. Commit to doing something that will make you happy once a week, take an art class, read 10 books during the year, choose some fun activity outside the house, learn macrame or anything that brings you joy and find your purpose.

I am committing to myself to have lunch or dinner with my friends at least twice a month, I will read a book or two each month and yes, I will also continue going to the gym as for me exercising does help my mental state and yes I will have a date breakfast or date night with my spouse at least once a week.  

Self Care Resolution

I have been on vacation for the last week, my office closed for the break. Before I went on vacation I wrote a list of what I should do during my break.  I did tackle some things on my to do list-

  • Took a nap
  • Read two books
  • Had great dinners with my friends
  • Took long walks with my dog

These are all things that I needed to remember for my mental health. We all need to remember that every once in a while we need to take care of ourselves and make ourselves the priority.Self care is one of the most important gifts we can give our loved ones. Someone asked me what gift I gave my husband for what seemed to be our 100th anniversary, I replied – a mammogram.   Take time to care for yourself mentally and physically , as much as work is important, it is not everything. Challenge yourself to make this a priority in the coming year.