Listening to your body - it's not as easy as they say

How many times do we hear the sentence, 'Listen to your body'?

I say it too. I say it to my friends when they complain of feeling tired, unwell or hungry. I write it down a lot for my job. But, how often do I actually listen to my own voice, saying those bloody words?

Not enough, I'll admit.

This weekend, I caught the dreaded winter cold - again - in March. I was pretty mad about it. I'm not great at being poorly. I don't like feeling like shit (who does?) and I really don't like not being able to do the things I normally do - working to my full potential, sleeping like a normal human, tasting food... breathing. Being ill really is the worst.

But the chances are, I caught this cold again because I was overdoing it.
I was really enjoying work, it was busy but I was on top of things - just how I like it. We've also been decorating our upstairs, where weekends and evenings were taken up by painting, planning and so much dust. Any evening I wasn't decorating, I was at the gym - everything seemed like it was going well...

Until I woke up with a sore throat and felt incredibly tired. That's when I knew. Damn it, I hadn't listened to my body! Once again, I had pushed it too far, only realising when it was falling apart.

Fast forward four days of aching muscles, breathlessness, and a very blocked nose. I'm starting to feel better, but to join the party, my wisdom teeth have kicked in, and I'm pretty sure I have a water infection - oh, good.

Tomorrow I was supposed to be joining my company on a volunteering day, helping the community and spreading joy, to mark not only International Day of Happiness, but our magazine's first birthday. While I'm starting to feel better, I'm not quite there and really, I know that a day working outside in the snow isn't what I need right now. I need to stay warm and hydrated. I need to stay inside.

So, I reached out to my manager and asked to stay behind. To work on an article covering what everyone is getting up to, and they great work they'll be doing.

But you know what, admitting defeat really does terrify me.

Not only do I dislike giving into my body crying for help, I really, really dread calling in sick. I feel guilty, like I'm not sick enough. I can still work, I'm fine, I promise. I will do all I can to avoid it - like working, despite really, needing to stay in bed - but this I know, is when I need to be a grown up and listen to the warning signs.

This is when I need to listen to my body.

I am getting better - I know when I'm hungry. I recognise when actually, I'm not hungry, but I really just fancy a pack of biscuits or a pizza. I know when I'm wanting fresh fruit and vegetables and why, andI know when I need to get back into the gym and really let my body move. I know when it needs a good old stretch.

What I do need to do, though, is recognise when I need to slow down.

Adulting is hard, we all know that. I'm sure I'm not the only one who feels anxious before calling and making an appointment, but we get past that feeling, and book the appointment, because the dentist, doctor or even that hair appointment is essential for our health and well-being.

So why the ruddy hell do I still feel like I'm lying when I say I don't feel well?

I've mentioned before, that I work in mental health, so I know just how far we can push ourselves and how overworking can affect both our mental and physical health. I don't know why I find it so hard to practice what I preach, and I'm sure many people feel the same. But this is me, making a commitment. I don't often get unwell but recently, it's felt constant. And I don't like it.

I will try and listen to how I'm feeling, and learn when to take a step back.

If I need to call in sick, or cancel plans due to my health, that's fine. Why spend time worrying about telling someone? Nobody really cares - in fact, they probably care more that I look after myself, than push myself to the edge. And, if they're really that bothered with me having some time to rest, then they probably aren't worth the time.