PLAN

So, this is what's been happening since the last time I wrote a proper post:

- I have been on long-term sick leave for four months
- I have tried three different types of anti-depressant, none of which have worked
- I have basically subsisted entirely on cereal, brownies and cheese
- I have cut out most of my regular activities because seeing people is terrifying
- I have, on occasion, refused to go down the stairs in my own house because of non-specific terror
- I have been completely unable to write because all the words look wrong
- I have got quite sick of all the above but not felt able to do anything about it
- I have not been having very much fun at all, really

However, over the last few days my brain has seized on to something it's calling my PLAN, very definitely in capital letters but also not standing for anything (Paving Laid for Achieving Newness? Preliminary Lists of Ambitious Notions? Pugs, Limes, Ardbeg, and Netflix? STOP IT JEN this is not a useful way to spend an afternoon). It's quite excited about it and I'm worried it will run out of steam before we get to the important bits. I'm trying to keep it going by eating actual food and not sleeping during the day and possibly coming into contact with other humans, i.e. the exact opposite of what I've been doing since May, because I really want PLAN to work and I want to have the wherewithal and motivation to make it happen.

Boiled down to its essence, PLAN is as follows:

This year: quit job.
Next year: get another.

PLAN is a bit scary. No, PLAN is a lot scary. I've written before about my fear of not being able to get another job, and I've been there for, frankly, years longer than I should have been because it was comfortable and I wasn't exactly sure what I wanted and the money was OK and who else would want you, anyway. But they're not compelling arguments anymore - it's no longer comfortable, sick pay isn't a thing forever. I'm still not sure exactly what I want, but my sights have shifted from "something better" to "something else".

The goal of PLAN is not to find the interesting, highly-paid, conveniently located, work-life balance respectful, wonderful people-filled Unicorn Career of my dreams. It's not even to find a great job, or a good job, or lots of new friends, or an incredible latent talent of some kind that I've managed not to discover up to this point. At its core, PLAN is to get me to a place where I'm comfortable existing in the world again; eating and sleeping on a normal schedule, doing things I enjoy, spending time with people I like, without panic and tension and fear invading it all and sucking all the fun out of life. I will possibly write a bit more about the fear thing, because I think I might make daily blogging a thing again for a while. Either that or I'll just write out a list of all the terrible "how fear feels" metaphors my brain comes up with while trying to write the first sentence.

My doctor's appointment is made. My social life has been scheduled for the rest of the month. All I have to do until October is eat, sleep, write, sew (oh yeah, I do that now) and remain calm in the face of other humans. Here goes.