[dropcap]A[/dropcap] little over a year ago, I wrote a post about going freelance; both in my blogging and writing endeavours. It was liberating! I loved it- I loved working from home, I loved dictating my own schedule, making plans, negotiating fees, taking photos, thinking up ideas- the whole shebang. It was bloomin’ hard work. I was thrown into it rather than eased into the situation, so financially, I lived month to month. I put a halt to any personal shopping; goodbye Asos sprees and Shu Ueumura treats! But there was no price for my sense of freedom.
As our wedding day got closer, I felt like I was just burning through my savings. The pressure to get regular, paid jobs was getting harder. But again…no price on my freedom. I was absolutely determined to never find myself in a situation where I was working in an intense job having to be told what to do by someone else. I was broke, but I was happy.
Fast forward to the summer and we got married, had an amazing, whirlwind day…and then craaaash. I had an epic panic attack at the airport on our way to our mini moon in Morocco three days later.
Clearly, it was my mind and body’s way of having a tantrum and telling me to change my ways! Anyone will tell you that I’m really laid back, which is always a surprise to me because in my mind, I am Queen Anxious from the Land of Anxiety.
I spent 3 manic years at a major advertising agency. I had spent the year after that in an intense and (sometimes) toxic industry. Working for myself felt great, but not having a steady income became a huge worry in my mind. And then there was that little life changing matter of getting married. All the stresses and adrenalin of the past 4 years came crashing down.
As chance would have it, when we returned from Morocco, a sort of job came up through a friend. Just casual work, a few days here and there. I could make it to blogging events and work around it. It’s a few minutes walk from Robin’s office plus, I get a kick out of kissing my husband goodbye at the station as he goes out one exit and I through the other. Also,the short journey to and from Shoreditch everyday is a huge relief compared to the battle that is Oxford Circus at rush hour. Or any hour to be honest.
Then along came some smaller panic attacks. They would pop up all of a sudden whilst I was out shopping, or when I was watching TV, or heading out to dinner with a friend. Like, GOD, feelings! Can’t you wait until after this burger to have a tantrum?!
So, what I’m trying to say, in a very longwinded way, is that I have taken everything down a notch. I’ve hunkered down and am pretty much full time at my ‘sort of job’ which is, well, now a job (albeit a nice one where people are normal, decent human beings) I’ve turned down lots of blogging invitations and been more thoughtful about the ones that I do accept. Basically, I’ve been searching for a happy medium. I let myself get into this mindset of always being Go, Go, Go and it wasn’t doing me any favours. It’s okay not to have every waking day filled with Something and instead, learn how to be more mindful in life, period.
Some fab links to read about:
Siobhan’s post about finding focus
Jaime asks if we are addicted to being busy
All of the Autumn Feelings and picture from my favourite blogger
The other night as I was lying in bed, I clicked on the blog link from someone who had just added me on Instagram. 30 minutes later I was still reading her blog, having a good chuckle. Disasters of a Thirtysomething; give it a read. You’ll love it.