There are many ways in which I am deeply privileged, and one of them is that I’ve been able to carve out a career for myself as a freelance media-maker working from home – which comes in handy an awful lot, seeing as I’m also chronically ill.
In my early 20s, I had an office job where my shifts went from 6 a.m. to 12 p.m.; I had to set my morning alarm for 4:45 a.m. to get out the door in time, and even then, I often arrived late, foggy-headed and clutching caffeine like a lifeline. I literally can’t imagine what it would be like to try to do that now, in my 29-year-old achy body that sometimes needs 2-3 days of rest to recover after carrying a load of groceries home.
Energy management has become a more and more important skill for me as my illness has gotten worse. It’s not easy, but usually it can be done. Here are some strategies I rely on; maybe they’ll help you, too, if you have issues balancing your energy levels enough to remain as productive as you want to be.
Change locations. You know how competitive swimmers often shave their body hair so they’ll be more aerodynamic (or, uh, aquadynamic)? That’s a great illustration of a principle I find paramount while living with chronic illness: If a task is hard, lessen or eliminate every changeable factor that is making it harder, even if those changes seem small or insignificant. They add up.
This is why, when I’m having a bad pain/fatigue day, sometimes I won’t even sit at my desk when I start work – I’ll just roll over, grab my iPad, and work in bed. Or curl up on my couch with my phone and start answering emails. If I feel depressed or isolated, sometimes I’ll take my iPad or notebook outside with me, and get some work done in a park or on a bench somewhere. All of these alternate locations can feel less physically and mentally demanding, somehow, than sitting at my desk – and that can make a big difference in my overall output.
Take breaks to rest. I used to “rest” mid-workday by eating lunch at my desk while watching a YouTube video, or (even worse) catching up on articles I’d been meaning to read. But this isn’t really rest, in my opinion – or at least, it’s not sufficiently restful to charge me up in the way I need when my workflow is interrupted by fatigue.
I’ve learned that I need to take at least 1-2 periods of actual rest during any given workday. For me, that looks like spending anywhere from 20 minutes to an hour lying in bed, doing something very low-effort like reading a not-super-cerebral book, listening to a podcast, playing a video game on my Nintendo 3DS, or literally just lying there. It makes a HUGE difference for me; I find myself much more alert and able to work after resting for a while.
I’ll also take naps as needed, complete with an eye mask and earplugs (would recommend), but I try to limit those because they can fuck with my sleep schedule.
Weekend Wednesday! My spouse’s company is currently testing out a 4-day work week program, after news of excellent results emerged from other companies doing the same. They’re taking Fridays off – but I’ve recently started doing something similar: taking Wednesdays off.
There was one glorious semester during my time at journalism school when I had classes on Monday and Tuesday, and on Thursday and Friday, but none on Wednesday. It meant I could take a break, in the very center of my week, to recoup and prepare for the rest of the week. Sometimes I’d sleep all day, if that’s what I needed; sometimes I’d catch up on homework, do some errands, spend time with family, go to doctors’ appointments… whatever I wanted or needed to get done, but didn’t have the energy to do after 6-hour lectures on digital journalism ethics.
I recently decided to try to return to this routine. CGP Grey calls this practice “Weekend Wednesday” (although, in his version, you work on Saturdays to make up for it – which I don’t do if I can help it). It has helped a ton; my Thursdays and Fridays go much smoother now that I’m not totally run-down and haggard by the time they arrive. I think calling this practice by its cute alliterative name somehow legitimizes it in my mind; I no longer feel guilty about taking the entire day off each week. I know I’m extremely lucky to be able to do this.
To-do lists galore. I can’t manage my energy effectively if I don’t even know what energy-expending tasks will be expected of me on any given day. Every morning, I write out my tasks for the day in my Notes app. Sometimes – especially on days when I feel under the weather – I’ll write myself (or ask my partner to write me) a schedule, with certain tasks assigned for certain times of the day. This allows me to map out everything I have to get done and space everything out appropriately.
I also find to-do lists helpful on days when I can’t get everything done, because instead of despairing about what a failure I am, I can just move those items to the following day’s list, and trust that I’ll do them then.
Spacing & pacing. There was a time, earlier in my life, when I could have, say, recorded 2 podcasts, written a blog post, had a catch-up phone call with a friend, cooked dinner from scratch, and gone to a party, all in one day. There was a time – but that time is no longer.
I’m in the privileged position now of (usually) being able to space out my appointments and deadlines in a way that respects my waning energy levels. I try, for example, to never schedule more than one podcast recording in a day, because they’re one of the most energetically draining things I do all week. I also try to keep big assignments’ deadline days completely open, so I can spend the whole day polishing and editing, without needing to stress about getting anything else done.
When I find myself overbooked, I schedule at least an hour of rest between activities – and if I can’t do that, I plan to take it easy the following day, because I’ll need to.
Maintain boundaries. As many freelancers have learned the hard way, “I create my own work schedule” can all too easily devolve into “I work all the time.” I used to, but now I do not, because I cannot.
These days, my work hours are generally 11 a.m. to 6 p.m.; I’ve learned from experience that while I can work outside of those hours, the quality of the work tends to suffer if I do. It is difficult sometimes to hold this boundary, particularly when it comes to scheduling guests on my podcasts, but I try my best to stick to it, because even the coolest, most captivating guest would prefer to talk to the version of me who isn’t slurring from fatigue and distracted by pain zaps.
I have to maintain time- and energy-related boundaries in my personal life as well as my professional life. Often, this means leaving a social event while I’m still having fun, so I can get back to my bed before the ton-o’-bricks that is fatigue finally hits me. It sucks, but it’s necessary self-care, and also keeps my friends from having to deal with my tired, irritable self at those times.
Respect the body’s natural rhythms. As I mentioned, I tend to work from 11 a.m. to 6 p.m. (if that), and that’s because I’ve observed that those are my most productive hours. I was only able to discover this for myself after quitting the dayjob that had required me to get up at 9 a.m. for 4 years. Life suddenly felt less cloudy, depressing and demoralizing once I was able to wake up whenever my body felt like waking up. (This same effect is also why, incidentally, I very nearly failed the only 8 a.m. university class I was ever forced to take, solely because it was at 8 a.m. Classic.)
Fellow chronically ill writer Esmé Wang has written before about getting her best work done between the hours of 4 a.m. and 9 a.m. That’s inspirational to me – to know yourself and your body well enough that you can design your life to suit your needs, and to unapologetically hold those boundaries. Ah, bliss.
Fellow chronically ill babes, what are your preferred strategies for managing your energy well enough to stay relatively productive?