Last year on this day I turned on my computer, swallowed my fear, and went back to work.
It’s been a whole year.
I made it.
Yesterday we had a bit of a shitstorm and my boss said to me, “Carrie, I love you. I mean I f*cking love you. If you try to go somewhere and take a different job I will hunt you down, put you in handcuffs and drag you back to the office.”
Some people might think that’s a little over the top, but not me. Instead of swallowing fear, today I swallowed a lump in my throat. It feels good to be appreciated, not just for what you can get get done in a day or a week or a month, but for who you are as a person.
What a difference a year makes.
Four years ago I could barely walk or string a sentence together. My brain was scrambled eggs. I slept a lot.
I wondered if I’d ever work again, at least at the job I loved and had been so successful at for more than a decade. I tried not to think about it.
I haven’t written very much here this year. All of my energy has gone into learning how to succeed at my job again with a brain that is different than it once was, giving it everything it needs to rewire and recharge. It’s taken every bit of energy I have.
Am I doing the right thing? The answer comes when I imagine myself without this hysterically productive thing that has given me such a sense of accomplishment, especially this year. For now, yes.
I can’t even believe I’m doing it.