QUICKSAND

Over the years, there have been times where I’ve felt stuck in situations that made me unhappy. I hated where I was, how I felt, but somehow I just couldn’t seem to make the decisions I needed to make in order to change things. 

There was the time I stayed in a decaying relationship with my first boyfriend but kept putting off the breakup. He was distant, flirted even more than usual with other girls (I know, I know, what was I thinking?) and generally made me unhappy. Then there was the time I felt completely undervalued in my role in London but quitting would have a major impact on my life. And, of course,  there was the year I spent working for someone who made me feel small (no jokes allowed), and, quite simply, stupid. 

Usually, life intervened and things changed for the better. The boyfriend broke up with me; the London office moved to Farnborough; and the boss was promoted. 

Recently, though, I have found myself feeling incredibly stuck and this time, the universe isn’t resolving it for me. 

About 18 months ago, I began to feel stuck. It started off slowly at first and I just ignored the feeling and powered through. I used the tasks at hand to distract me and leaned on my restrictive tendencies to help me breathe (some people meditate or do yoga, I control my eating to “relax”). But as time went on, and nothing changed, I started to feel trapped. And so, I did what most people do when they find themselves sinking in quicksand, I panicked.

I started making rash decisions, convinced they would help me get unstuck. When something didn’t work, I quickly moved on to the new “solution.” One day, I was leaving the company, the next, I was eyeing a promotion. I was investing in friendships one minute, and dramatically withdrawing the next. I was erratic, I was hyper, I was emotional and…just plain crazy – all because I was so desperate to feel like I was moving forward and leaving the quicksand behind. 

The more I tried to get myself out of how I was feeling, the more I started to spiral – leading to sleep deprivation, depression and sick leave…where the anorexia I had been containing (or so I thought) engulfed me.

A year later, I feel more stuck than ever. “Kicked out” of the Douglas, no longer convinced Coaching is for me, with absolutely no idea what to do next, I’ve been falling back on my coping mechanisms. I am throwing noodles at a wall in hopes that something will stick. 

Go back to work, find a new job, quit coaching, keep coaching, do nothing, go to a different treatment centre…all of these things go through my head daily.

My head is buzzing. This time, though, rather than make a rash decision on my own and talk it out after… then change course of action, I am going to talk things out first with my medical team, with my family and with my closest friends. They will likely have to slow me down, and help me let go of the outcome. No easy fix this time.

One thing is for sure: I’m done with sinking and I’ll leave the noodles for Zoe’s lunch.