This week I’ve been off sick. Not physically sick, but mentally sick. I haven’t felt well enough to work.
It started manifesting itself last Friday when I wrote my last blog and had spent the whole day suffering from a bad case of presenteeism, when I was at work but I should have not been. I was ineffective, inefficient and a waste of works electricity. I’ve written about presenteeism before and how the absences that we record from work are the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the impact of mental health, and that presenteeism is somewhere around 4 times the cost of absenteeism.
We record absenteeism, but we don’t record presenteeism. How many other people were at work last Friday when they shouldn’t have been. I’m going to ask for mine to be recorded when I get back to work.
So…. I had a shit Friday, but got through the weekend focussing on my kids and on a night out with an old mate. But then Monday morning came….
I just couldn’t bear the thought of going to work. I felt useless, I felt like I wouldn’t be able to make decisions, to achieve anything or to add any value. And couldn’t bear the idea of another day like ‘present’ Friday. So I called in sick.
I ended up having four days off. I’ve never had more than a day off for mental health before.
I do loads at work to promote people taking time off, for mental health to be on a par with physical health and to try and break down some of the stigma.
But oh my god I felt so guilty all week.
Mr Paul Wyse