The other day I had a little bump in my road. This isn't unusual but it's the first since my doctor upped my dose of fluoxetine (prozac) to 60mg a day.
I have a stressful job. I think part of the reason that it's so stressful is that I know that what I do is hardly the stuff of life and death. It's actually so monumentally unimportant that it can be laughable to see others in the organisation treat it as such. That fact certainly doesn't stop them from putting all holy pressure on me and my team, unfortunately.
I'll admit it - I cracked. Cracked up, that is.
If I'm honest with myself, it's my heart that's my problem with my job. It's just not there and sometimes it's a struggle to hide that from people - including myself.
My head and my heart are at war. I know I want to indulge my creative side as far as my career goes. I also know that I have bills to pay and my practical side (aka my head) will not let me walk away from a paying job to do something that doesn't have a steady wage.
I'm a practical dreamer. Doesn't that suck?
Anyway, my breakdown was intense but, thankfully, fairly short lived. Some junk food, some mum time and a puff inducing blubber was all that was needed to bring back some equilibrium.
Yet the feelings haven't left me completely and little niggles over the week have just made me think about the future more and more.
I'm hopefully going to take this weekend to come up with an action plan to get myself back on track. Back on the road. Stepping stones not stumbling blocks.
Courage, ma petite! :o)
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