I was recently asked what motivates me to do what I do, write, make videos and so on. What is the reward for me as I’m not trying to make money out of it.
Let me tell you about Marcel*.
Marcel is a partner from France and we’ve been working together on a project since November 2020. I remember the first time I virtually met him, as our first meeting took place during another lockdown. A 50-something year old, with a heavy accent I absolutely loved. I really liked him as a person and his sense of humour since the first day.
I met with the rest of the partners face to face in Nicosia, about a year ago, but I’d never met Marcel in real life and he was busy during some of our online meetings too so when I heard he was joining our partner training in Slovenia, I was pretty excited to finally meet him in person.
And it was genuinely a pleasure. Well-read, smart, sophisticated, a wine and fine dining lover without the pretentiousness, also funny, witty, surprisingly honest and a true gentleman.
On our last dinner together, we started talking about how the effects of the pandemic still lingered for children, as some started school during COVID-19 and spent months on end locked inside, with no other social interaction. We all agreed that it’s been tough on all of us, especially children, but Marcel said:
‘Yes, I agree, but children are resilient, look at me, I still suffer!’
I failed to mention at this point, that Marcel wore a mask for most of the week and avoided sitting close to anyone. The reason: If he catches the virus, his wife might die. For that same reason he moved in a rural area with his wife during the pandemic (he still lives there), with minimal social interaction with anyone else. He told us how much he hated it and how he drove himself mad living in the middle of nowhere, in a small village with just a few houses.
How incredibly sad. Older people already find it hard, feeling isolated and lonely, as it is, society somehow forgets about you when you grow old, although it should have been the opposite, we can learn so much from older generations, they are beacons of knowledge and wisdom, but the pandemic has made it even tougher for them to cope.
A couple of others shared their stories. I mentioned a horrible news story from a Cyprus, an old man who died alone during the pandemic and was found days later, since he had noone to check up on him.
This is the sad reality and we need to do something about it. We need to look after, love and nourish the people who took care of us and kept the world going whilst we were growing up. We owe it to them.
During that same dinner, Marcel asked me if I still wrote. It caught me by surprise.
–‘How do you know I write??’
-‘I remember when we all first met online, you told us that you had a blog, and I found it and read a lot of it. Do you still do it?’
-‘Yes, I do! Not that often but I do. I don’t write much about travel or food anymore, but I still write about mental health’.
-‘Oh nice, I’ll read it when I get home!’
And that’s why I keep writing. This is the reward. The impact however small or big on someone’s life when they read one of my posts, either because they feel the same, or they learnt something or they just enjoy my writing.
Eleni
*Marcel is a pseudonym, in case the person wishes to remain anonymous.
I just woke up from a two and a half hour nap and felt that I was hit by a bus.
I rarely nap, I hate the feeling afterwards, but after about 30 hours of travelling in 4 days (around 60 hours of buses, trains, planes and running around airports in the last 15 days), my body and mind just gave up.
A week later and I still have a lingering cold, I missed a few important gatherings I wanted to go to but couldn’t and just woke up from one and a half hour nap. I’m flying again on Monday at 6:25 in the morning (I’ll probably be in Slovenia by the time this is out) and I’m not sure if my body can cope.
I’ve been trying different remedies, I’m taking vitamins, trying to exercise and rest as much as possible, but nothing seems to be effective, at least not to the degree needed for me to function at least a satisfactory level.
Inevitably, I’ve been complaining about it, because I’m exhausted. I know it doesn’t help in anything and I try not to do it as much but it’s OK to not feel well and not hide it.
Feeling guilty because you are sad or angry, hiding painful emotions, dismissing other people’s difficult feelings, ignoring your problems, only posting ideal photos on social media, and reciting ‘positive’ quotes about tough situations are all examples of what’s called toxic positivity.
I’m sure most of us have been told these before:
Everything happens for a reason.
Just be positive!
It can always be worse, be grateful for what you have
And the list goes on.
I noticed that a lot of people do it (sometimes even I fall into the trap of doing it) and I absolutely hate it. Emotional intelligence in general, and empathy in particular is all about identifying and acknowledging the other person’s feelings, and respecting what they are going through without judgement.
We all have been guilty of ignoring our and other people’s feelings and promoting all this (toxic) positivity. Yes there’s always worse and I’m grateful for what I have, but there’s also better. Also, not everything happens for a reason. Sometimes it’s just (bad) luck, coincidence or unfortunate circumstances. Most importantly, we don’t always have to be positive, as long as sadness and pessimism don’t take over and disrupt our functionality.
Here’s some photos from my recent travels. I didn’t have time to see much of any city, just a couple of hours in each as I had to work and travel. I’d rather I travelled for leisure, rather than this, but I’m doing the best considering the circumstances. I’m still exhausted and I hope this doesn’t continue for long. Today I’m not that positive about it, maybe tomorrow I’ll be, but it’s OK.
Have you experienced toxic positivity? How do you deal with it?
The first Monday after the summer holiday. The absolute dread of having to get out of bed and get ready to go to work. A week of overcaffeinating yourself to stay awake, missing the sea, the soothing sound of the waves (but not the sun, it’s still 39 degrees Celsius in Cyprus), the food, the daytrips, reading, writing, swimming, your friends, your family, all the free time you felt guilty about (Mental Health Mondays – 6. The guilt of doing nothing) and desperately thinking of ways to prolong your annual leave.
Why are summer holidays or any holidays for that matter never enough?
Maybe because most of us don’t spend much time resting or having fun? Or perhaps we don’t have enough time during our hectic daily routine and work life to enjoy ourselves or catch up with friends and loved ones as much as we’d like to because ‘we are always busy’.
It made me wonder how humans came up with this work model. Who decided that the majority of us need to work about 340 days out of 365 a year (taking into account that we get about 21 days of leave and 4 bank holidays on average) for 50 years until we retire, old and exhausted?
It’s a cliche but we should work to live and not the other way around.
I hope in the future I can change that for myself and for others.
I’m not sure what can ease the post holiday blues until then, for me what helps at the moment is planning mini-holidays or day trips once or twice a month, have something to look forward to. How do you cope?
“Il dolce far niente” Italians infamously say. The sweetness of doing nothing, the ability to completely and utterly enjoy and savour each moment, the pleasure of being idle.
Why and how have we lost this ability to enjoy our free time? Why do we feel guilty about it instead? I had this very discussion with my wonderful friend and kindred spirit Marithea a few days ago, whilst catching up after almost a year. ‘I have an idea, why don’t you write about it on your next blog?’ she suggested and it couldn’t come at a better time.
I’ve taken two weeks off work to relax, rest and recharge before the September madness and I think I managed to do that for just one or two days. I spent the rest of the time doing everything else, shopping, going to a pottery workshop, catching up with friends, a few days away with my crazy family and a lot of thinking about my next career step, as well as feeling guilty I haven’t made any videos or written anything in a while. I barely made time to read, write, play the guitar, or just sit and listen to music.
Even when I try to relax some weekday evenings, after a long and busy day at work, I feel guilty. I feel this deeply rooted shame for my inability to read a book or stare at a screen again after more than 8 hours of screen time, or even have clear thoughts and make sensible decisions about anything.
Why is that? It’s what’s commonly known as productivity anxiety. We humans have the innate obsession to get things done and be creative ALL the time, something we all struggled with during the pandemic when our options were severely limited. Surely, as soon as we could get out, most of us got even more obsessed with being productive, which is incredibly unhealthy. Our bodies and brains need rest and idle time, to be able to function fully and correctly.
Maybe the 8 hours of work, sleep and play model of the First Industrial Revolution was an improvement on the 12-14 hour day shifts, but none of us really works for just 8 hours a day. Most people work for 9-10 hours a day taking into account commuting and lunch break. By the time you get home, cook, clean and prepare for the following day, (unless you are one of the lucky ones who have help or someone else does the house chores for you) that’s it, the day is over and your brain is already overheating.
We need to learn to make time to rest and have fun, our whole life can’t be just work. And workplaces should accommodate human needs to the highest degree possible. We need to work to live, not live to work, otherwise what’s even the point? Retired old and exhausted at the age of 65 (if it doesn’t get higher by the time I retire), desperately trying to squeeze as many life experiences and joy as possible in the few years I have left? No, thank you.
So, I’m going to try harder to make time for rest and relaxation. How do you manage your free time?
My grandma Eleni used to work as a cleaner at a psychiatric hospital, raising three children on her own. My grandpa Costas was a shephard and after the 1974 invasion a factory worker providing for his wife and their 5 children.
My dad has had two jobs since he was 20 years old, and my mum worked on and off, focusing on looking after us most of her life. They both spent the last 40 years making sure my sisters and I have everything we needed. And they absolutely and utterly succeeded, with no shadow of a doubt.
We might not have had the most expensive cars or clothes, or holidays abroad, but we had a comfortable childhood and teen years, making cherishing memories, holidays in Cyprus with family and friends and endless support, due to their hard work and love. We were always bought new clothes once or twice a year, there was always plenty of food on the table, we were all bought cars to be able to drive to uni and we all studied.
My parents were always stressed about money, as you could imagine, as their parents had no money to help them . They were worried they might not have enough to look after us. My dad still gets anxious about it. We grew up appreciating what we have because we knew first hand how hard it is to get it.
I’d have never been able to study in the UK if it weren’t for my parents. When I finally graduated and started working and looking after myself, I worried about money from day 1. I learned how to prioritise my needs, what I could spend on what and learned to manage, so I didn’t run out of money. I would hate to ask my parents who already did so much for me, I already felt bad enough I couldn’t help them financially as much as I’d liked to. I did waste some money over the years but most of the time I managed.
When I lived in the UK for 10 years, I always paid my rent and bills on time, I got to travel a bit in Europe, I watched plays and musicals, went around the country, bought myself what needed, ate out with friends often, and although I lived a comfortable life, I always worried about money.
Living in Cyprus, earning significantly less than I did in the UK, not being able to save much, restricted to what I can spend on myself and my personal, social, mental and emotional needs, on travel or anything else I’d like, has intensified that worry and anxiety.
What I wouldn’t give to wake up one day and not worry about money, my parents housing situation, about paying the electricity bills or worrying when I’d afford a new car, or go out for fancy dinner, to be able to book the more expensive hotel I’d like or book tickets to Latin America, or buy a new laptop and not having to save up for months (or years) first.
Money doesn’t bring happiness, but only if you have everything you need and you don’t worry about it. It may not bring happiness but it can surely take away large part of (my) anxiety and worries.
When I was younger I felt ashamed I worried about money, I tried to hide my financial situation from friends and colleagues. But struggling or asking for help is nothing to be ashamed of. We were not all born in wealthy families, and for some of us life is harder and things don’t come easy. It made us stronger though, we learn how to live with little and appreciate what we have. So if you also worry about money, just know you are not alone.
I hope you and I and everyone who struggles one day we have enough money not to worry about it but even if we don’t, let’s talk about it, share our experiences and help each other, and try as much as we can not to stress about it. Easier said than done, I know… but let’s try anyway!
I often wake up with a rock in my stomach. A solid, heavy rock. Sometimes it feels that it’s spinning, other times it’s pulling me down. Occasionally it makes me dizzy or nauseous. Some days it feels bigger, some days I can barely feel it, but it’s still there. That’s how anxiety manifests on me.
I don’t remember when I started struggling with anxiety. I suspect I always had it, since I was a child, I just didn’t know what it was. I was always a worrier. I remember worrying every time an inspector came to school to check us for lice in case I had any and got embarrased in front of the whole school, or whether my skirt was caught in my underwear (this still worries me!). As I grew older, my concerns took various forms and combined with a few traumatic experiences e.g. my ex stalking me for a year or so, emotional abuse etc, I reached a point I couldn’t handle it more than once.
Only in the last few years I manage to cope more efficiently. I just cope, it doesn’t really go away. But even to the day, every now and then it gets out of hand. Only a year ago, I was so stressed I lost my appetite and that gave me sever stomachache. It physically hurt to eat anything. After that, I promised myself I wouldn’t let it reach to that level again.
It can still happen, I know that, but at least I can handle it better. Yoga, running, my guitar, writing, travelling, spending time with loved ones and a lot of me time help me the most.
(check my page for more) and I’ve been chatting about it with strangers, colleagues, friends, and loved ones for years. I don’t think I’ll ever stop!
Although I had a great week, going to the vegetable and fruit market after many many years, a day at the beach, a few days in Berlin (minus the cruel flight times and the extreme heatwave), the halloumi and anari workshop, and relaxing at the swimming pool afterwards, my anxiety levels have been off the roof as my to-do list grows longer and longer!
Anxiety hits you in many shapes and forms. For me it’s psychosomatic, it gives me headaches and stomachaches and occasionally panic attacks (and insomnia), for others it’s heart arrythmia, blurry vision, nightmares, compulsive eating. Anxiety is a beast, it can cause or aggravate other disorders e.g. OCD and depression and it’s quite common.
According to a 2018 OECD (Organisation for Economic Co-Operation and Development) report, “The most common mental disorder across EU countries is anxiety disorder, with an estimated 25 million people (or 5.4% of the population) living with anxiety disorders, followed by depressive disorders, which affect over 21 million people (or 4.5% of the population)”.
And based on a World of Health Organisation (WHO) report, “In the first year of the COVID-19 pandemic, global prevalence of anxiety and depression increased by a massive 25%”.
So, let’s talk about it, learn how to recognise anxiety signs and symptoms on ourselves and others and help each other. How do you experience anxiety?
Today I want to talk to you about my friend Alexei.
We met back in 2019, on a cool October morning. I had just moved to Reggio Calabria, in South Italy working as an EFL (English as a Foreign Language) teacher and I spent my morning lesson planning, then Alexei walked in. I still remember the first time I heard his beautiful, deep voice and Southern African accent, and I saw his wide smile.
Alexei had an infectious laughter and a unique, wicked sense of humour. He loved sarcasm and self-depracating humour. Although he was raised in South Africa, his parents were also Greek and he spoke a bit of Greek too. He loved and cared about everyone around him, one of the most empathetic people I’ve met. We connected straight away.
Despite a global pandemic forcing us to spend half of our teaching year indoors and online we managed to make unforgettable memories together like our long weekend in Palermo, wandering around, shopping, drinking, having a laugh and chatting about life, our random pizza dinners in town, co-presenting quiz night, our beach day in Tropea with the rest of the Reggio gang and many, many more little, every day interactions.
We never made it to Taormina or Pentadattilo together before leaving Reggio like we said we would, but he promised to visit me in Cyprus soon.
We messaged each other every now and then but we hadn’t chatted for about a year. Last time we spoke he was really happy with his new job and life in Vienna.
Suddenly, 5 days ago I saw a Facebook post about Alexei, that I still cannot believe.
He died a few weeks ago. He took his own life.
It breaks my heart to think how horrible and lonely it must have been for him. He cared deeply for so many people and we would all have supported him if he had just reached out. I also feel incredibly guilty I let life get in the way and we lost touch for a while.
Depression kills, and even more so amongst men, since society taught them since they were children that sharing their feelings somehow make them look ‘weak’. Alexei had no issue expressing his feelings and his struggles, he was always open about his life, his sexuality and his frustrations, which makes it even harder to believe he kept all this struggle for hismel and reached a point that life was so unbearable for him that he didn’t want to live anymore.
The reason I’m sharing this story is to remind myself and everyone else to keep in touch and check in with our friends and loved ones regularly and please please, if you are struggling, tell someone, you don’t have to go through it alone.
Alexei’s death was incredibly sad and painful for all of us who knew him and we’ve been sharing photos and stories of Alexei with each other over the last week, because that’s how we’ll remember him, having a laugh together, hearing his beautiful laughter and picturing his gorgeous smile.
Mojo: a quality that attracts people to you and makes you successful and full of energy (Cambridge dictionary).
What a week it has been. Suffering from COVID (or any other illness) whilst stuck at home, helpless, depending on others to bring you essentials (thank you mamma!) surely takes its toll on you.
I didn’t make it to a work event on Friday or my colleague’s wedding on Sunday. I felt guilty and sad about it, there was nothing I could do though. I had no physical or mental energy left.
My batteries ran out, completely. Walking longer than a few minutes at a time or concentrating on a task requires serious effort.
I’ve been feeling tired, unmotivated and stuck for a while now, and a week at home with COVID only amplified those feelings.
I ran out of mojo and I don’t know how to refill the pot. I’m tired of running around, always playing catch-up, worring about money, never having enough free time to see all my friends, do everything or even some of the things I’d like to do.
I often ask myself lately, why am I doing this? What can I do to feel motivated again? Am I the only one feeling like this?
This pretty much sums up my week. How’s yours been?
Oh, I did make it for a walk in Kaimakli (a Nicosia district, by the borders) on Saturday evening, since there’s a little festival going on (Pame Kaimakli Festival: Urban Playground). It felt great to be out walking about (a little bit at a time), admiring the architecture and chatting to strangers, reminiscing of childhood memories in Kaimakli, the St Barbara church and father Marios, a priest my mum used to take us to as kids I used to love, with his long beard and pony tail, and of course many memories of Kalamies tavern by dad used to work at for years. The festival is on until Wednesday, for anyone interested!
PS Thank you to all you gorgeous, loving humans who messaged not only get well wishes, but sharing how you’ve been through COVID, symptoms you had and super useful tips on recovering. It makes this blog series even more worth it and it gets us all talking about mental health, which is what this is all about!
*This blog was written whilst suffering from COVID-19 symptoms, therefore some of the text might not make complete sense.
Ever since I wrote about lack of mental health NGO’s in Cyprus and how it’s still considered ‘awkward’ or ‘taboo’ or ‘weakness’ to talk about mental health, I’ve been torturing my mind on how I can promote opening up and talking about mental health, and I thought I’d start small with a weekly Monday special, writing about a topic that came up during the week I had to deal with, or a family or friend went through, or a random chat I had with a colleague or a loved one. I chose Mondays for obvious reasons, since the majority of us struggle with Monday and any stress relief and an opportunity to chat about mental health can definitely help! Mental Health Mondays!
So here’s the first in a hopefully long series of exclusively mental health write-ups. I encourage you to and hope you comment and share your experiences too and suggest topics or even write a guest post. I really want to show with this blog series that we all go through similar situations and we all struggle at points, but also how we look after our mental health in general. So, let’s talk about mental health!!
This week’s topic:
Getting COVID after about 2.5 years of desperately trying not to and how it messes up your life for at LEAST a week.
Monday, 27/6/2022
The week had started well. I went back to the office after two weeks (Karim, my other half broke his foot and I worked from home for a couple of weeks to help out around the house), which was eerily quiet (many colleagues seemed to have gotten the new virus variant) and spent the day organising my tasks for the rest of the week as I was going on a work trip to “The Nymph of the Thermaic Gulf”, the beautiful Thessaloniki , the following day until Thursday. I hadn’t been in years and although I would only really have half a day to wander in the little alleys, huge squares and the seafront, I was quite excited about it.
Tuesday, 28/6/2022
Tuesday was a brilliant, but exhausting day. Karim finally had his MBA thesis presentation (and passed with flying colours!) and the last few months of spending our afternoons or weekends with him studying and me joining him and helping him on the way, finally paid off! But no time to celebrate as I was flying to Thessaloniki in the afternoon! So, after a couple of hours of work, I made it to my colleague’s, Andria, who was joining me on this trip (thanks to super driver aunt Litsa!) and we headed to the airport. We made it to Salonika late at night and after we checked in at the hotel and a quick takeaway souvlaki, we went to bed, knackered.
Wednesday, 29/6/2022
Wednesday started off well with hotel buffet breakfast and after another morning coffee thanks to Andria’s kindness and generosity we headed to our meeting at the University of Macedonia. I keep forgetting how old and often dingy buildings are in cities like Thessaloniki, so it caught me by surprise how horrible the University building looked like. After a 4-hour long meeting and a quick lunch, we finally had the rest of the afternoon off to explore the town. And it was a gorgeous afternoon, visiting the infamous Saint Demetrios kathedral, the patron saint of Thessaloniki, and walking around town chatting along,
which ended with a delicious, albeit heavy feast at a local taverna, my lovely colleague Loizos, who I absolutely trust when it comes to food, recommended, and which I now definitely recommend, Katsamaka. I went to bed feeling I was about to burst from all the food, tired, and with a bit of a sore throat, but I assumed that was due to all the travel, walking and busy schedule.
Thursday, 30/6/2022
I woke up with a bit of a sore throat, but again I brushed it off due to a million other reasons other than COVID. I did a self-test on Tuesday morning, I had no other symptoms anyway and most of people across the Mediterranean are getting ill with all the high temperatures and use of AC, this can’t be the virus.
After a short delay on our flight, Andria and I made it back to Cyprus. Stella, my middle sister was to pick me up from the airport, wander for a bit and then go back to the airport to pick our little sister up, since she was coming back from Brussels for the summer. I asked Stella to bring a self-test with her, just to make sure I didn’t have the virus. In the meantime, my symptoms were getting worse. I felt a bit of a chill and feverish and swallowing really hurt. The test was negative. OK, so it was just a really bad cold. Or that’s what I thought.
By the time I made it home, I completely ran out of energy and I couldn’t swallow from the pain.
Friday, 30/6/2022
5:30am
I didn’t sleep a wink. I kept tossing and turning, I had high fever, my throat hurt like hell, which made me feel nauseous and dizzy, I barely made it to the loo once, or twice during the night. It was the worst night I had in years.
This can’t be just a cold. I haven’t felt that ill since January 2020, and I remember that because I think that when I got COVID the first time, before the global outbreak, when I had a persistent cough and fever on and off for weeks.
I decided to do another test. Sure enough I tested positive.
I had no idea what the process was from now on and what to expect. My mum of course was my first call for support, as she had got it a few weeks before. She told me to message our GP as soon as possible and asked him to call me when he can. He prescribed a syrup and advised me to take vitamins C and D and Nurofen for the fever. He also told me I had to pop to a pharmacy to get tested so they can report me as a positive case.
After barely making it to the pharmacy, I just lied on the sofa and stayed there. I felt rough as hell for the whole day. I was terrified about my breathing and any other severe symptoms I might develop and I was also devasted all my weekend plans were cancelled. No dinner out on Friday, no beach on Saturday, no mountain festival on Sunday. And the sad realisation, that pretty much my plans for the rest of the week would have to be cancelled. I was really looking forward to the kite making workshop!
But none of this really matters. As long as you are healthy. Isn’t that what we all realise every time our health is compromised? Well yeah, but you can still feel rough and miserable and unhappy and of course scared. I could never be sure whether that pesistent cough and fever I had back in January 2020 was COVID, so catching the virus always scared me as I wasn’t sure what to expect. You never know how your body would react, no matter how healthy you are.
Today is day 4 and after a few days of sneezing, coughing and a sore throat, I now lost my sense of smell, which inevitably affected my sense of taste. For those of you who know me, you know how much I love food, so not being able to smell or taste anything is killing me! But I’m OK. Getting better slowly. The medication definitely helps, as well as Netflix, reading, DuoLingo and puzzles! Mentally I’m exhausted. It hasn’t been the easiest few weeks and this was going to be the first one in a long time to have been going out on events and workshops and the beach. So, not being able to leave the house, go for a run, a walk or really do anything is really painful. It’s only been 4 days but it feels like 4 months!
I managed to give the virus to my sisters (well the little one probably got it from the plane), my other half got it from a night out last week and my mum who has just recovered from it is going around our flats delivering supplies! My dad hasn’t got it yet and fingers crossed he won’t, he is the one we are all the most worried about.
That’s my COVID adventure so far. Now I need to lie down again, my energy levels are running low, and the 39 degree heatwave doesn’t help.
Did you go through it? How did you feel about it? Let’s talk about it.
Back in February 2016, on the 25th of February, I started a blog, this very blog.
I wanted to for a while but my then boyfriend kept discouraging me, arguing that I had nothing to say.
So, just after our break-up and a series of other unfortunate events (which I wrote about at the time), I started “What I learned before I turned 30”, a personal journal sharing what I learned so far in life, a few months just before I turned 30, which actually has helped me (and it still does) to make sense of what was happening at the time and helpfully reassure others that they are not alone, we all struggle in life.
A few years later, I decided to change the name of the blog, since I had already turned 30 and it didn’t make sense anymore. At the time I thought it was a good idea to name it ‘Eleni’s world’ since it was more autobiographical and a mix of different things, and honestly I couldn’t think of a better name.
A few days ago, whilst pondering how to make more time for myself and things I enjoy doing, before I turn completely crazy and exhausted from life, running around like a headless chicken, I had an epiphany.
Why don’t I name my blog ‘Lessons I learned after I turned 30’?
I haven’t been posting as often lately, though I really want to and I’m planning to, and giving the blog a revamp and a more specific identity can movitate me to do that.
So here it is. The new name of my blog.
Lessons I Learned after I turned 30, let it be English or Life lessons, lessons from my travels, personal and work life.
Lessons I learned after I turned 30 