Are you OK? Are you really OK?
Let’s talk about what can happen if you suppress unsettled emotion and concerns and do not share when you need to…
The amount of $8000 was in bold red on the Inland Revenue website. It was followed by the words.
‘Your account is in debt. You may be charged late payment penalties and interest on overdue amounts’
The voice in my head said, ‘That can’t be right’
I knew I had an amount of $7000 in provisional tax to pay but that was not yet due. As I looked at my computer screen my breathing changed. Following this my heart rate increased as did the tension in my chest and diaphragm.
The woman from my accountant’s office was on the other end of the phone. She was quietly trying to explain what had transpired with my account. It was hard for me to understand what she was saying. The voice in my head kept up the dialogue,
‘This can’t be right!… Every request for payment had been made…’
The metamorphosis had begun. The transformation was initially subtle but exponentially grew in momentum. This was no Marvel Comic heroic figure beginning to emerge. What started as concern moved through confusion, irritation, annoyance and with a firm thump of a landing arrived in loud anger!
Fueling this transformation was some cognition of statements from the person at the end of the phone that included, system error, new system, misalignment with IRD. As my intelligent brain was shutting down, I vaguely heard,
‘we will fix this you do not need to worry’.
By this point all was lost. A series of events were all happening at once. The dysfunction in my head was now in charge. Where was I? The location had changed to a place where my Father was telling me off. As I turned around the location changed again to a place outside a school I attended. It was the early stages of ridicule which I knew was going to result in a physical beating from a teenage boys much older than myself. A series of events were re lived. I was now scared, physically hurt and powerless.
FIGHT BACK, FIGHT BACK, FIGHT BACK, FIGHT BACK…
I just needed to fight and watch my back before I was kicked or punched again. A kaleidoscope of images flashed through my vision. Where was I? My location was familiar while being disconnected from myself. This bizarre shift of view left me present and watching in the same moment. I was seeing a grave, then a hospital bed while an empty house spun around in a meaning and disconnection I know but do not understand. A familiar nightmare.
Exhausted I was suddenly back at my desk watching myself. The telephone conversation ended with the woman on the end of the phone left in confused bewilderment. The eruption of anger and foul language was not what she was expecting.
The next 20-30 minutes saw the effects of a natural drug overdose slowly dissipate. The adrenaline and cortisol delivered from my own body were losing effect. What remained was a sick sense of self-loathing and disappointment. There was some futile, egoic scrambling to secure a semblance of justification that did not last.
This was the third episode of my post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) in the last month.
Emotional exhaustion was taking hold as the effectiveness of tools, techniques, distractions and therapies seemed to be disappearing.
A subsequent phone call with my accountant explained the amount in question was not $8000 plus $7000 but in fact the difference between the two amounts. This was the amount that was underway to be remedied.
This was totally lost to me at the time and in many ways of little consequence. The remnants of events in my life had triggered a sense of danger that left me fighting rather than listening. Yes, the triggered combination of written and spoken communication was difficult to understand. The amounts as presented on the Inland Revenue website were confusing. The real problem, however, was I could not hear.
Losing my temper using foul language and being totally unprofessional had the impact of a deep sense of self-loathing. This deep-seated disappointment leaves me standing on the edge of the pit of depression. The solution is to breathe and just step back.
Many times, in my leadership training I emphasize I have made mistakes and should be thought of as the alcoholic presenting the dangers of excessive drinking rather that any example of perfect leadership. Nor should there be any implication of having lived a perfect life.
What I have accumulated is a measure of wisdom and a level of insight. Some things in my life are no one’s fault they are just the way the cards fell. The falling of the cards has however been at a cost.
If you misread this as a cry for help or pity it is not there. I know what to do and what must be done. After years of counselling and therapy I engage strategies that work 95% of the time. The final 5% is the challenge.
When I am asked how I am fairing in these crazy times my response is usually the same.
My life is good and Covid -19 is not having too much impact. I have lost a chunk of income, but my wife and I are by and large OK.
Or so I thought…
The stress has been slowly building in the background. Uncertainty over future income, the final state of my retirement funds and several other issues have not been addressed with enough attention.
Jiu Jitsu training has stopped from 6 or 7 intense hours per week to only an alternate day of personal fitness and solo drills via Zoom.
So what now?
There is hope. There is light in the unfathomable compassion and capacity to reach out when prompted.
Last night I was sitting watching TV while just starting to feel like I could live with myself again! My phone chimed. It was a text from the woman from the accountant’s office. She offered me compassion, understanding and support despite my behavior. We know each other outside of the accountancy relationship. Her words literally brought tears to my eyes as I read and reread her message. We exchanged a few messages with prompts from her to be kind to myself. This was a precious moment. About an hour later a good friend sent me a text and said,
“You OK Andrew?”
I had not said anything to him. I had not said anything to anyone about recent events. My phone then rang and without my friend knowing anything he just kept telling me he understood, and it reassured me.
My good friend spoke on the phone about the uncertainties we all face and how we will need to change and adapt to whatever may come with the future post Covid-19. Amidst all of this he kept offering me reassurance. He kept reminding me of my own self-worth. He told me how much I meant to him.
I do not know what type of magic you believe in. I have no idea of your faith. Last night was a moment that reinforced for me, a greater meaning and a greater power.
A message and a call just at the right moment. Two people reaching out to offer comfort and support.
How many others are among us are suffering, worrying but not saying anything?
Let me ask you.
Are you stressed and not facing the stress?
Are you scared about the future and not talking?
I have more concerns than I previously liked to mention.
My ride on the planet so far has given me some tools that have really helped. One of the tools is H.A.L.T.
The H.A.L.T acronym was taught to me as part of one of my therapies. It was originally used as a tool to help alcoholics or addicts from relapsing. It can be used by anyone. Essentially when faced with one of life’s stressors you breathe stand still and do not make any important life decisions.
H.A.L.T. stands for Hungry, Angry, Lonely, and Tired. Each one of these four physical or emotional conditions, if not taken care of, leaves an individual vulnerable.
Conclusion.
Yes, we are all in this Covid-19 club together. That does not magically remove stress, worry and pressure. Men, we need to talk and reach out to our mates. Women are better at doing this.
Face the stress, adjust and make recovery time.
