The Empty Cup: Why I’m Finally Prioritising My Foundations

I had a bit of a wake-up call this morning. Or, perhaps more accurately, a lack-of-sleep call.

For a while now, I’ve been explaining away my exhaustion. I’ve been fighting tiredness and crashing on the sofa at night rather than going to bed, and while I’m there, my smart watch has been picking up on something worrying: my average heart rate is well above where it should be, even when I’m supposedly resting. It’s been affecting everything—my mood, my energy, and most importantly, my ability to be present as a partner and a dad.

I finally spoke to my GP about it today. I went in thinking it was purely physical, perhaps a sleep disorder. But the doctor had a different take. After listening to my symptoms and looking at the data, the diagnosis points strongly toward stress and mental health.

The Mask of Modern Anxiety

It’s funny, really. I didn’t spot it because the symptoms didn't look like they used to. In the past, my anxiety was loud; it was panic attacks and feeling constantly on edge. This time, it’s been subtle. It’s a silent, thumping heart rate and an inability to switch off.

It turns out I’m not alone in missing the signs. The Men’s Health Forum estimates that over 75% of premature deaths in men are related to preventable causes, often because we ignore the early warning signs of stress or illness. I’ve realised that since becoming a dad, I’ve developed ways of just "masking" it—powering through for the sake of the family. But as the saying goes, "powering through" only works until the power runs out.

The Action Plan: Sleep and Chemistry

The GP was brilliant. We’re tackling the issues on two fronts.

​First, I've been started on Sertraline as a repeat prescription to help manage the underlying anxiety and level things out over the longer term.

​Second, to address the immediate sleep crisis, I've been prescribed Diazepam.

​This is strictly a short-term measure—just a tool to help break the cycle of sofa-surfing. I am acutely aware that these can be addictive, so I’m being incredibly sensible with them. The plan is to use them strategically—taking them for just 2 to 3 days at a time—to try and coax my body back into a healthy rhythm without risking dependency.

Cutting the "Crap"

But pills are just a stop-gap. The real work is in the lifestyle changes, and frankly, looking at my recent habits, it’s no wonder my heart is racing.

I’ve been fuelling myself on caffeine and sugar. I did a quick calculation on the energy drinks I’ve been consuming—at £1.50 a pop, a daily habit adds up to over £10 a week. That’s roughly £500 a year wasted on bright yellow, fluorescent liquid that offers zero nutritional benefit and is likely just spiking my anxiety.

It reminds me of the "Latte Factor" concept in finance, where small daily spends ruin your budget. Only in this case, it’s not just my wallet taking a hit; it’s my nervous system. So, the plan is simple:

 * Drastically cut the caffeine (goodbye, endless cups of coffee).

 * Bin the energy drinks (pure placebo with a side of palpitations).

 * Hydrate (water, water, and more water).

 * Reduce the alcohol (I’m knocking the casual beers on the head for now to stay focused).

The Oxygen Mask Analogy

This whole experience has brought me back to a cliché that is a cliché for a reason: the airline safety briefing. You have to put your own oxygen mask on before you can help others.

I’ve spent so long trying to be helpful, trying to pour from an empty cup, that I’ve run myself dry. I can’t be the father or partner I want to be if I’m running on fumes and adrenaline. By taking this seriously—using the GP’s advice, exploring some herbal remedies to calm down, and drastically reducing my screen time at night—I’m not being selfish. I’m building the foundations back up.

The goal now is simple: clear the fog, lower the heart rate, and get back to sleeping in an actual bed.

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