Disclaimer: there is not a lot of travel/camping in this post. It’s my blog and I write what I want. Sassy.
I love cliffs. I like the perspective they provide (see last post). However, I’ve always been a pretty cautious person. I don’t take a lot of chances for the fear of what might happen. Anxiety, ever heard of it? I’m in that club. We wear Letterman jackets.
My family has had a particularly difficult year with health and income and housing and mental health and deaths and to infinity and beyond. Work was also pretty bonkers and I couldn’t catch a break. It has been a bit much.
Enter stage left: Prozac.
I am not a doctor. I take pills because I’m OK with the idea of “better living through chemistry.” #myfavoritemeds #endhealthstigma #lizzoforpresident
This past year has been a big one for me. I’m doing things I’ve never been able to do before. Speaking up in meetings (you can’t shut me up now). Singing in front of people without beer. Wearing bathing suits. Discussing the way my brain works. Saying “no” to people. Refusing to let people walk all over me. Basically, I’m amazing. Hey, girl, hey. Tell your friends.
While this can’t all be attributed to Prozac, it has certainly helped.
All of this practice on a personal level lead me to quit my job.
Don’t get me wrong; I have a great job. I like the people I work with. I get paid OK-ish for a non-profit. I get promoted and fancy people ask my opinion. But I didn’t choose this career for myself. My anxiety chose it for me.
How is this possible?
Let me tell you! I’m a problem solver. Because of my brain, I can’t let problems remain unsolved. I’m always picking up other people’s slack and noticing what is needed because I can’t stand when things don’t go well. I’m not type-A, and I’m not a perfectionist, but for some reason I have to find efficiencies everywhere. I got promoted because I did a good job and have a good attitude. While I have dreams and goals for my department, it was a passive choice that brought to where I am today. I am making an active choice to leave.
I have always found time more valuable than money. I still need to make enough to pay my bills of course, I’m not delusional. (Or am I).
What do you want to be when you grow up?
How do people know? I don’t know if I ever will. But at least now I know what I don’t want to do.
-G