The winds of change
I have taken it upon myself to instigate change. I have pondered and discussed, compiled lists of pros and cons and finally taken the plunge (or should I say plunges as the actions I have taken are multiple). Change can come unbidden, shockingly out of the blue. Or it can crawl up from behind, slowly and silently, drifting over you like a mist, unnoticed and new. If it doesn’t choose to grace your life and you feel the need for a new course with consequences unknown, the change has to come from within. Actions must be taken, decisions made and hence an adventure is born. An expedition into the future, full of excitement and fear with new beginnings and unknown endings, that is the place I have chosen to go.
Two weeks ago my unfinished packet of anti depressants was shut away in a rarely visited drawer. Having, painfully, weaned myself down, over a period of months, from 20 to 5mg a day the time had come to stop. In anticipation of rough times to come I have also knocked the booze upon the head.
As if that wasn’t enough for my chemically challenged brain to deal with, on Monday I quit my job. There was shock and horror, anger and support, but the deed is done and is slowly sinking in. Four and a half years I have been trekking across London and back, under the ground on the line called Piccadilly. Enough is enough. I have climbed back upon the horse which threw me, proven to myself (for I am the only one who needs to be convinced) that I have conquered the fear, and now I am free to stop.
I am going to read and write, rest and run, and best of all I will be doing it in the sun. Today is an exception, but soon it will be the norm; time for myself unbounded is ahead. I am off to the Caribbean, taking 3 months out of the hum drum of London living. As I write these words I still can’t quite believe it. But I have done it, I’ve quit, and for a while at least, my life will be my own.