I know. I haven’t posted in what seems like ages. I’m sorry. For anyone reading I’ve been thinking of you, just haven’t had time to write.
My boss has been away on holidays for the last week and a bit and I’ve had the “joyous” task of doing her job and mine. It’s been busy. Crazy busy. Ridiculously busy. From the moment I get to work until the moment I go to bed (actually the moment I go to sleep, which is often several hours after I go to bed), I run on adrenalin. And that anxious feeling in my tummy. And chocolate.
In a way it’s been kind of good, because it hasn’t given me time to think about anything much at all. Except work. And my anxiety. But no time for feeling bad, sad, mad … no time even for feeling crazy.
That’s a good thing, right? Except may be for the anxiety.
So what’s the Catch-22?
Well, it’s reminded me of what my life was like before I “fell apart” – work, work, work until I’m exhausted… so exhausted there’s no time to think about anything, let alone feel. BUT… now that I know life doesn’t have to be that way, it’s also reminded me of what I don’t want.
Not the depression, obviously, but I have enjoyed having life at a slower pace. Time to think, feel, write… time even to do things I’ve discovered I enjoy, like music, photography, art. No time for such pleasures at the moment.
An old colleague rang me last week to see if I’d be interested in a job in her organisation. For a little while I was very tempted as the work sounds really interesting. And then my boss went away and I was reminded of what happens when you have to work at that level. That’s one of the reasons I left my last job. So, based on that, I think the answer is “thanks, but no thanks.”
So there’s the Catch-22: it seems I can have a job, and sanity, but no life. Or I can have a life, a boring job, and less sanity. Put that way I’m not sure which one I want after all.