What overworking every day did to my body

 

I am an editor working in the publishing industry. Now I am a fifth-year editor as it has been over 4 years since I started working for my current publishing company in April 2010. I spent most of my mid and late 20s doing editing, and I think I will continue this job for a while. The reason I had to put “I think” in front of that sentence is that I am not sure whether my body will hold up to allow me to do so.

 

I am only 28, but I have had many problems—big and small—with my body since I don’t remember when. Cervical disk problems, cartilage degeneration in a trunk joint, syringomyelia, hyperlipidemia, gum fistula, a number of masses on my uterus and ovaries, traces of things on the inner uterine wall that fortunately did not turn malignant, and the occasional occurrence of major depression, to name just a few. Sometimes it is surprising that all these are living inside of me.

 

I guess many people must be heading to work dragging their fatigued bodies with many health issues, given that that is what I am doing. Looking around where I work, only a very few people look healthier than me.

 

No one explicitly told me, “Work more even if it makes you exhausted.” It’s just that at some point, I started to feel I get credit for my work only when I overwork, and my body internalized the idea. What made me even more apt to grin and bear it was the wish to avoid being seen as a “typical young woman”—incompetent yet hypersensitive to criticism. And so, unaware of my ailing body, unaware of my colleagues falling sick, I spent years working overtime almost every day, and even on holidays.

 

▲ “I work at a publishing house. I want to live in a world in which I can work without having to overtax myself.”

Deadlines wait for no one

 

I am in my 5th year in this career, but meeting deadlines has never been easy. Speaking half in jest, half in earnest, “I’d rather die than face a tight deadline.” So it is needless to say how tough it was in my 1st and 2nd years.

 

It was autumn 2011. I hadn’t had proper sleep for days to meet a deadline. I remember, one time, getting home at 7 in the morning, taking a nap, and returning to work before noon after barely washing my face. Then that day, a Friday, I got some bad news in the afternoon near quitting time. It was the day after I had sent the data to the print shop. A senior coworker and I were each supposed to write a summary for a press release about books we were editing in the same series. But for some unavoidable reasons of the print shop, only my book could meet the production deadline, and I was the one who should write the 3-page book review all alone by the end of the weekend.

 

Having to finish the review on such short notice and deadline, I felt hopeless; it was hard to produce a publishable draft of that kind of writing even if I it was writing in my best shape. I was so bitter at my boss who had flat out denied my deadline extension request of a week, and at the senior coworker, who was supposed to help me, on the phone telling me all this without a qualm. I was so stressed that I had to go to the bathroom and vomit. And I left the office saying I would write it at home.  

 

That night, I cried until very late in front of the blinking cursor on the screen. It was almost impossible to summarize a book and write an introduction in the state I was in after several sleepless nights. I ended up falling asleep, having gotten hardly a few lines written. The next morning, I woke up to a number of missed calls. I must have slept through without noticing the incoming calls. It was all from the senior editors. I thought to myself that they must have been worried as I was unreachable.

 

But at that moment, I found a long text message. It still makes my throat burn when I think of that message, in which there was no mention of how I was doing. Instead, they had assumed that I gone MIA. I was stunned to read the message saying, “You have to be a responsible adult” and the conclusion, “Finish the piece and submit it as soon as possible.”

 

I closed my eyes as they twitched, and pictured myself proudly handing in my resignation on Monday morning. The mere thought made me feel like flying for a second. But soon I became depressed again. It was like someone was saying into my ear, “Young ladies are irresponsible.” That night, I was back at my desk with my teeth clenched. Eating meals at my desk, I eventually finished the article by Sunday night. I gave up on the idea of resignation, thinking of the student loan debt I had to pay off. After many other deadlines, I became a fifth year editor.

 

To be forced to prove patience and passion

 

I don’t think I am an irresponsible person who would fake illness just to avoid working. And it is likely the same for many other people. But in most workplaces, the simple fact that people can get sick to the extent they cannot bear it and cannot function often gets neglected. Overworking despite exhaustion is not only glorified, but also considered the norm, so that not doing it means one is not working hard enough, and lacks passion and patience.

 

One day, I had severe menstrual cramps and so was going to leave work at the regular time. When I said I could not stay seated any longer because of lower back pain, one male senior said something I will never forget. His nonchalant comment was, “If your back hurts, then you can cut it off.” Probably it was his way of joking or urging me on. He couldn’t have imagined I would be receiving OB-GYN treatments a few years later, after working more hours that day because of his comment.

 

As a “young lady” without any special qualifications, experience or skills, I simply thought endurance and patience were the best I could offer. Plus, I heard people gossip about the “young ladies” who failed and quit their job, which might have pushed me to become all the more stubborn. As if I was representing all young women, I thought to myself, “I will survive to show our persistence and kick ass.” However, all I am left with are the honor(?) of five years' seniority and a variety of health problems.

 

Our bodies are not disposable

 

As difficult as it has been to grapple with the long hours, it was the indifference and discourtesy of the organization toward staff being sick that were harder to overcome. The stigma was more painful than the actual physical pain. I have had to hide cramps and work with a smile on my face even when sick. It was a stifling perception that a mature “professional” should act that way.

 

Coworkers who genuinely care for each other when one is sick, and an office where there is a space for staff in need of rest even if not for a long time—these are the qualities that I’d like to see at an ideal workplace. Fortunately, my colleagues and I managed to open a channel of communication with the company which led to gradual progress. Menstrual leave has been introduced along with paid sick leave, though it is short. Meeting deadlines is still tough, but knowing that I can take leave gives me some comfort.

 

But before the matter of the system’s problems, I found myself wishing to be a sympathetic person who sincerely cares for others when they don’t feel well. Sometimes I think of the possibility that I could be sending out the same message - “Endure even if you are sick” - to others without realizing it. After all, I have become one of the “seniors” in my office.

 

In the early days, I often reproached myself for going into this field when I got sick. But the past is past, and there is no guarantee that other jobs would have been easier. Perhaps I was lucky to get sick so early. I learned earlier than others that I was treated like I was disposable, that I myself worked as if I was, and that that attitude would make me fall ill.

 

These days, I try not to overdo it, and to exercise regularly. It is not easy to get rid of my old habit of overworking, but I am making efforts to take a good care of this body that I have to live with for the rest of my life. I hope other “young ladies” who are out there clenching their teeth will do the same. [Translated by Lee Eun]

 

* Original article: http://ildaro.com/6653 Published: April 16, 2014

 

◆ To see more English-language articles from Ilda, visit our English blog(https://ildaro.blogspot.com).

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