I knew I had to leave my current job but I didn’t realise how happy it would make me just to hand in my notice. The tragedy of my current role is that my colleagues are lovely, my manager is the best I’ve ever had, the commute short and cheap and the pay excellent.
But it’s not enough. The job itself is full-time and tiring and it leaves me no mental room to do what I really want to do. And I acknowledged that and found another job. Against all the odds I found a job with the right hours, pay and, as far as I can tell at this point, people for me. The three who interviewed me (and that wasn’t intimidating IN THE SLIGHTEST :S) are all avid readers and two are massive fantasy fans.
So I am writing today to tell anyone who will listen that you can control your life. You can. You can find those opportunities, those pressure points where an ounce of leverage opens up a tonne of doors. But you have to believe they are there, because otherwise what’s the point in looking, right?
That’s where medication came in, for me. As anyone who has known me for a while will tell you, I’m generally a very positive, upbeat, happy person. But chemistry is chemistry and sometimes life, circumstances, something, anything can tip your brain over a ledge it simply can’t climb back onto without help.
I am the first to admit that I’m the luckiest person in the world. I say it a lot and that’s because it’s true. But I make a lot of my own luck by knowing myself. By knowing when to fight and when to run, when to stay and when to go. When to say to myself, “just a bit longer,” and when to say, “no more”. It means that, as I look back at my life, I have no regrets because I love who and where and what I am now and I am the sum of my life to date.
Depression took that clarity away from me and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t feel, I couldn’t think.
It broke me.
Medication put me back together.
The point I meant to make about being incredibly lucky (and this particular aspect really was entirely outside my control, absolutely down to pure, dumb luck) is that my doctor hit gold on the first try with the medication. I know this is rare and it’s a blessing I count most days. (Sometimes I’m too busy being happy about other things to remember.)
I feared the medication would rot my brain, destroy the pieces of me that remained, albeit shattered on the floor of my mind. I was wrong. It fixed them, put them back together so perfectly that only spidersilk lines of memory remain to show the breaks.
I have another two months of meds, enough to carry me over the initial transition into my new life of part-time working and full-time writing. I hope to start coming off them after that. There’s some fear there. Will I break again? Are the meds the only thing holding me together, protecting me from my own body chemistry?
I don’t know, but while I don’t look forward to finding out the answers to these questions, I do want to know what they are. So I will face the thing I fear and if past experience is any guide, find a whole new shining world of possibility and opportunity and, yes, happiness on the other side.
Life truly is a journey and I’m so happy to be back on the right path. There will always be obstacles but I’ve overcome those before. I can do it again. There’s power in that, pushing me forwards into the unknown to create my own world as I go, according to my rules, the only world and rules which matter, and I’m so glad and grateful to be creating my own once more. Thank you to everyone who stuck with me through this, which is literally everyone I knew before it all went pear-shaped. I am truly blessed in my friends and family. Thank you all for standing by me while I staggered back to the shining path of my life.