Rumours of my death have been greatly exaggerated...

Yeah, ok. My brain went on strike, as did my fingers. I've had a rough August, and I needed to disappear for a while and figure some things out. These aren't life and death problems, so apologies to anyone if I sound like I'm complaining. I'm not. I'm just sharing.

I lost my job.

The job that I loved, that I worked 12 hours a day for, the job where I finally felt like I had settled into this city and developed a much-needed emotional rhythm.

It was quite sudden, very condescending in the way it was done, and extremely hurtful. Most of the people that worked with me were shocked, but they intimated that this person that I had worked for had done this countless times before. Either way, I was out on my arse in a very ungraceful way. And to be honest, I felt lost.

I realised that some of my UK identity was helped by having a creative job, something that I loved. I liked working long hours to see a job completed in the best way possible. I liked meeting people in the UK creative industries. And the rug was pulled out from under me.

I went through a range of emotions: sad, angry, confused, feeling useless. Negativity about the weather, about the building we lived in.. And the FEAR was palpable. The fear that I wouldn't find a job for a while and we wouldn't have enough money, that I was getting older and I couldn't have children without a job with a good maternity plan, that I would be seen as incapable of holding down a job. I became envious of the mister's female colleagues that have super-powerful jobs, and I felt like the insecure little apron-clad wife. But I got angry at myself and through that I created strength. I had to pull myself up. I had to listen to a voice with a positive focus:

Snap out of it. You're not doing yourself or anyone else any good by beating yourself up. This happened for a reason. Wasn't meant to be yours. Take advantage of this time to see London, since you don't have that time very often. Take time to rest.

I started doing that. Doing silly touristy/artsy things and disappearing into crowds, into parks with a notebook, making myself familiar with certain streets. I started literally getting off trains and making myself lost, in order to test myself on how to find my way again.

The mister was amazing through this, encouraging me to relax, to get facials, to sit in the sun and read (well, we only had a week of sun this whole summer, so that was a bit difficult), to take time for "me".

I have been. I'm trying. I'm still getting there. I have at once been thrilled and happy to be doing project work for different agencies, and at the same time been covered by a little black cloud of frustration and loneliness.

It's hard sometimes, this life thing. But I have to make sure to remind myself that we're never given more than we can handle, so we'll always figure it out.

Oh, and I turn another year older in 3 weeks. Maybe that's freaking me out? Ugh. I'm SUCH a neurotic girl.