Five months.
Five months since my kids were pulled from school and my world as I knew it disappeared. I mourned every activity erased from the calendar. I had spent the first part of the year proudly building my career as a contract writer when suddenly my kids were home all day, and my small-business clients vanished.
Instead, housework tripled, and I was supposed to teach math in french (my kids are in an immersion program). Writing... well... I started a garden instead. It got me (and the kids) outside.
Jump ahead five months.
I'm on the couch, reviewing my journal entries:
Depression and anxiety can become debilitating for me. Because of this, I keep meticulous notes. I journal about my mood, thoughts, physical well-being and activities every day.
Every Friday, I go a bit more in-depth, reviewing my short-hand notes and recording my anxiety and depression levels on a chart... I know, I'm kind of a huge nerd. I even have different coloured pens to record the different types of symptoms. :P
I review my notes and notice that I have not had a single anxiety attack since April 17, the same week we went into lockdown.
I dig a little deeper. I re-read my notes and journal entries. I’m surprised to realize that my contract writing, which brought me money and a sense of worth, had been making me miserable. I’m much happier now... and I’ve got the charts to prove it.
I'm not sure what this means. It's an insight that I'm turning about in my brain, like an oyster wearing on a bit of sand.
Is it me that needs to change?
Or is it the nature of the work that needs to be adjusted?
Something has got to give.
I'm just not quite sure what.
I’ll let you know when I do
:P
