A couple of days ago, it was pointed out to me by someone hugely important in my life, that it's been a while since my last blog post. I was committed to posting at least once a week, but in all honesty, I haven't had anything to write about over the past couple of weeks, or to be more truthful, I've felt so numb, so uninterested in everything life has to offer, that I couldn't have written anything even if I had something earth shattering to write about.
The past two weeks have been a very strange time for me. It started with a trip to the office which left me feeling more anxious and confused about the future than ever before. Over the course of the next few days my carefully constructed strategy for overcoming my illness fell apart piece by piece. Morning meditation was replaced with mindlessly watching of random YouTube videos, my diet quickly resorted to a repetition of bread, peanut butter, crisps (potato chips to my American friends) and Mooshies burgers and I still haven't been able to find a yoga program that works for me. Cycling and running was the only thing that didn't fall by the wayside.
What filled the place of my recovery strategy was not a return into the mental storms that have been omnipresent for the past 6 months, but a oppressive numbness that left me feeling completely disconnected, like living in a colourless, emotion free world where everything is a varying shade of grey with the volume turned down to 1. I had lost any interest or excitement, not only in the things that usually raise my passion, but in life in general. Everything felt empty.
Today however, against my general malaise and lethargy of recent weeks, I was convinced by a newly found friend to brave the winds and rain of Storm Doris and keep up with my strict training program. I laced up my fancy Swiss running shoes, zipped up my lightweight waterproof jacket, put in my cheap, Chinese knock off bluetooth headphones and loaded up the latest episode of my favourite podcast and headed out into tempest raging outside.
The run, dodging falling branches through the wind and rain, bought the clarity about my future that I've been seeking for so long. I realise now that my illness and suffering has not been a curse but an awakening that has given me a great opportunity to help others. If I hadn't broken down, opened up and admitted to myself that I need help, I wouldn't have now have the opportunity to redirect my energies to build a more positive, healthier and happier hospitality industry.
Now I know where I need go and what I need to do. It's exciting and I feel full of an energy I haven't felt for a long, long time. Watch this space!