For such a long time now I’ve wanted to transition from whatever the hell I was calling life to something completely different. The hard thing about it all was trying to be a new, “improved” version of myself and then dragging along all the crap of who I used to be expecting the two to somehow magically mesh together.
I thought that May was going to be the toughest month this year but June ended up pretty much a catalyst to a total life change.
The interesting thing about stress with an anxiety prone person such as myself is the stress compiles rather than subsiding, even if the stressful situation is over or deal with. I had got myself into such a state that without even knowing it I was out of my mind with anxiety. Thankfully with all the tools my acupuncturist has taught me I managed to keep my head above water…
…that was until I tried to take Zoloft again.
The drug made me react as if I had poisoned myself. The whole day I was disorientated, gagging, and unable to either calm myself down or eat/drink. Thankfully my old ex boyfriend was able to drive me back to my parents after he finished work and I spent the next few days laying on the couch trying to navigate the minefield that my solar plexus was experiencing.
I’ve not really been the same since then, although I’m not going to blame the drug for that, but I am so glad that I am back at my parent’s home.
During the horrible panic and anxiety I was feeling I had to let it all go.
My old life. I realised that it wasn’t working.
The place I am forcing myself to work, and have been forcing myself to stay at for 6 years, why was I doing that to myself? So I can rent an apartment above, and next to, inconsiderate people and continue to convince myself that being alone was what I enjoyed? That no matter what was going on around me I had the choice to be happy even though everything was eating me up inside?
The more I thought about everything the more I wondered why I was stressing myself out. Sure I’m turning 30 this year and I’m suppose to blah, blah, blah but so what?
What was more important to me? Why was I trying to FORCE myself to live a life I clearly am not compatible with?
To spare you the details I decided to give it all up. Give up living alone. Give up the job. Give up the lifestyle. Give up trying to be a partner to someone. Give up the self-deception. Give up how society might view me.
My plan now is to move back into my parents home (although this would be temporary until I feel strong again, and also figure out my next course of action) and maybe, possibly, keep a small base in the city so that when/if I want to go back I have somewhere to go. Talks are already in the works for a small garden flat to be that base.
My ex boyfriend (and now ex business partner – I gave all that up too) is going to look after my apartment and try his best to sell most of the stuff off. I will bring a few things home to my parents either myself or hire a removalist to bring it over.
After making all these choices I’ve already begun to feel lighter and happier. They say making a choice is as simple as deciding on whatever makes you feel good and no matter how big or unsettling the decision is, if it feels good, do it.
I think I should have made this decision when I started craving being part of a family again.
I’ll leave you with some of the pictures I’ve experimented with just over the last few days. Once the stress was gone the real me comes to the surface and I think from now on I’m make life so easy and enjoyable for myself as possible.