My life is in transition. At times it feels like it is unravelling with incredible speed … at others it feels like this is the beginning of something really good. All I have to do is stay positive, say yes I can, celebrate the positive, build on it and everything will, in time fall into place. I also have to tell that gob-shite of a black dog that keeps hanging round to … BUGGER OFF!
How did I get here? Last year I landed what was supposed to be my dream job. Suffice to say the warning signs were there before I even started. Even in my 50s I marvel at how I am still so naive! There was a walloping, great, big, FAT ... red flag waving about the place (my predecessor resigned after only eight or was it six weeks). When I told some of my artist friends about my fab new job I got the feeling they seemed to want to tell me something … but decided not to. Only one warned me to be wary. I thought I could handle it. In the ensuing months there were other signs, not directed at me, but me in my naivety took them at face value.
Come December there was a shift , a perceptible and apparently inexplicable change (to me anyway). Slowly but ever so surely I found myself leaving for work with a knot in the pit of my stomach. My wonderful journey there across amazing countryside with wide skies and space turned into anxiety ridden moments trying to anticipate whether the day was going to be OK or not. I began to look at those warning signs in a different light and I began to think there clearly is more than met my eye at any rate but in tandem with that I seriously began to question my own sanity. That’s what happens, you begin to believe, despite all the evidence to the contrary that you are the one who is losing it and possibly never had it.
In the end, for the sake of my sanity, I resigned. But what now? What the bloody hell do I do now? More on that shortly.