The Bloody Doors Off

There’s a part of me that likes to be busy. But being too busy, and not enjoying what you’re doing, lethal combination.

I used to love this work. Now it gives me anxiety on a daily basis. Has the job changed, or have I?

Last night I suffered a brutal moment when I realized I was drifting into very dark territory. Enough that I wished I was back in hospital. I saw it as an escape, and a saviour. I don’t want to go back, and I’m not going to walk away from my contract because I’m frustrated. But the same build up happened last summer. The outlets I can partake to let off steam just seem so hard to reach; there’s no time, there’s no desire, the worry that I’m not centered and therefore might inflict damage accidentally (which pulls me even further back).

How do you be a team player when you’re not sure if you want to be in the sport any longer? And what the fuck do I do if that’s the decision? My skill set is very limited here.

The desire to run away is very strong today.