Chapter 15: The final post...

 I went for a run this morning. I say run, but it was definitely more of a 'rulk' (I've definitely periodically lost my running mojo), but actually it turned out to be quie a poignant endeavour, regardless. 

As I 'rulked' around that reservoir (which has consequently become one of my favourite places ever), it struck me how many of it's seasonal forms I've had the privilege to witness this year; that stark winter with the icy veins on the leaves etched magnificently. The green shoots, blossom and birdsong of spring. The incredible, luxurious summer (and what a summer it was)! And now the gloriously, golden Autumn. That landscape seems to have delivered exactly what my body and mind has needed it to be, when I've needed it. But it's also been the natural clock that has marked the passing of time so eloquently,

This Thursday marks nine months since that day... Nine months! The same amount of time it takes to grow a human being. Seeing how the world has moved on in that familiar spot, it made me realise exactly just how big the journey I've been on has been. I've been so swept up in the motions, the the enormity hadn't really fully registered. Old life has moved on and new life has begun. 

 As most of you know, music has always been an extension of emotion for me; the key to full expression has always been to find the right song - I think I get that from my Dad. The right song at the right time seems to make the world seem to make sense again. As I 'rulked' today, a familiar song came played over Alexa - The Cave, by Mumford and Sons. I remember listening to this song over and over again at the beginning of this journey. I think I even quoted it in one of my earlier blog posts,

"Cause I need freedon now, and I need to know how, to live my life as it's meant to be". 

Hearing it again today, in that spot which has carried my pain and instilled calm through the rippling water, took me back to those feelings of despair and devastation that broke me. I took a moment to breathe it in, listen and reflect and felt the biggest smile come over my face on the final phrase,

 "And I'll find strength in pain, and I will change my ways, I'll know my name as it's called again". 

Then Alexa in all her wisdom played "Dog Days are Over" by Florence and the Machine. Coincidence or sign, doesn't really matter. What matters is it was the affirmation that I needed that my journey is complete and now was the time to write my final post.

What a bloody nine months it has been! 

I've had some of the most lovely moments in my new job recently which have made me so grateful for how lucky I have been for this ridiculous drastic life choice to have worked out so well. I no longer wake up an hour before my alarm thinking about that phone call I have to make, the meeting I have to do and the parent I need to have the difficult conversation with. I no longer drive to work with my heart pounding in my chest and my mouth dry with anxiety. I love it! And I honestly can't believe how fortunate I've been to walk out of a career of 20 years with a broken heart and marauding grief and into a role and a workplace where I feel I have worked for years. My new work friends are wonderful! And I feel so at home and cared for already, but also professionally feel appreciated, respected and valued. I want to work! I want to do more. I want to bring the change. The passion and joy I have for making a difference brings tears to my eyes instead of the hatred and abuse that I endured for so long - and I am so happy.

I think I'm doing myself a disservice to say that it was all luck though. It's not been an easy journey at times. There have been truths I have had had to tell myself and realities that I've had to face. There have been knock-on stresses (pay-cut), and people that have been impacted because of fall, but I've done it - I feel I'm where I'm supposed to be! And I've done it my way and with my own will and resilience. 

My advice to anybody going through similar would be to make sure you have your people around you. I haven't done it on my own and will never be able to fully repay the people who have held me up and carried me along the way. The man child and my girls, my mum and sister, even my Dad #bemoresteve), the extended family, my amazing friends who took me for runs, walks and coffee, fed me wine (thank you Wine Club!), listened and held me as I cried - You're all part of the fact that I am still standing. I wouldn't have found the strength and resilience to push myself through it without that caring buffer that helped me bounce.

My friend who has lived with chronic illness her whole life introduced me to this quote recently;

"Rock bottom will teach you the lessons that mountain tops never will"

This is so true. I have learnt more lessons about myself and what I want out of life in the past nine months than I have my whole life. I look back to this time last year - I'd never have dedicated any time to myself, dared to dream things could be different or looked at what I actually valued in life. If hitting rock bottom helps you to grow and learn, I don't think I ever want to reach the top. I think the main lesson I will learn is that nothing is beyond me. I could climb to the top, but I might just find another mountain to climb.

Nine months. Nine months out of my 41 years and 10 months. The same time as it took to grow each of my little lives, and the same time as it took to rediscover mine. About the same time that the secondary fermentation time of a good wine takes in the wine-making process (the refining stage). The time when the wine enhances it's complexity and taste. The time that it builds it's character and undergoes it's subtle changes and improves it's quality. 

I seem to have fantasised about this being my reality for so long, and now it's here, I can honestly say I will never go back.

So thank you all for reading my therapeutic brain vomit, your words of encouragement and love that you have sent my way. I'm now closing the book! Time to write a new one.

Bisoux xxxx