Paying the emotional debt

I have been in a whirl for the last 2 weeks, with news about engagements, babies, cancer evaporation and then the death of my beloved Nanny. I have never worked harder last week, with a relentless schedule, deadlines and school holidays, I have worked most nights over the last 3 weeks. This meant when I finally got a day off on Thursday I got sick. Then Friday at the funeral for Nanny, I cried like an 8 year old girl, tragic really, it didn't register she had died until I went into the service.
It made me think about that elusive thing, work/life balance.
How long did I think I could hammer myself before something gave? It is usually health that gives first and I am frankly disappointed that I didn't respect that, I know better, instead I thought I was immortal [and clearly I also thought my Nanny was also] and ignored all signs.
Clearly, I will be dressed by the new designer Hubris this season.
I have a theory that grief is like tax, you have to pay it eventually otherwise it grows interest and the longer you leave it the higher the debt you have to pay. I didn't pay this week as early as I should and so now here I am with razor blades in my throat and the threat of something nasty coming my way.