Boy, if last year was a tornado of emotions, this year was about clearing up the carnage.

I’ve been candid (albeit inconsistent) in my blogs when talking about issues surrounding my own mental health and struggles with anxiety.

 

Last year it all finally came to a head and I had to admit what I was feeling and the way I was behaving was not at all healthy,

 

My relationships with people, my physical health and mood all rapidly deteriorated.

 

I started this year signed off work on sick leave. I told my then employer toward the back end of last year that I was not well and they suggested I take some time off to get help.

I spent the first two months of the year effectively unemployed. I was doing little bits and pieces to make ends meet but had nothing consistent nor did I have the desire to do much.

During this time, I invariably had a lot of time to think. I came face to face with the realities that my ill health had caused the previous year.

I was by no means “recovered”, all I had now was an understanding of how many things I had completely fucked up.  

It’s sort of like when you’re going to a club and trash your room trying to find your garms for the night out only to come back shattered at 4am to a room resembling a warzone.

 

I returned to my proverbial room earlier this year to see how many things I had completely trashed.

 

Taking accountability is probably the hardest part. Feeling so distant from the person you were when you were at your lowest, it’s hard to look at the things you did, said and thought and completely own them. Especially when those behaviours have led to relationships breaking down. (read more about dating with anxiety here)

 

I also came to realise just how distant I had become from my family. Finally sitting down to talk to my mum and my sister it felt like I was getting to know them again. So many of our conversations over the previous couple of months had been solely focused on me and my recovery that there were things happening in their lives that I had no clue about. 

Neither of them would begrudge me for taking the time I needed to be solely focused on myself, but I felt horrible. I never want to feel so distant from the two most important people in my life. No matter what I’m going through.

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I’m happy to say that 12 months on I’m in a far better place. This time last year I was optimistic but only because I thought “how on earth can things get any worse than this?”. Now a year on I have real reason to look forward to the coming 12 months.

This year I’ve moved out of my mums house, have secured a STAFF (honestly FUCK freelancing) role with a significant pay rise at a major broadcaster and all round I’m happy and loving life.

 

I would never claim to be “cured” because there isn’t a cure for what I have. And that’s okay. But for the first time in a long time I’ve learned to live with it.

 

Here’s to 2019 😊