Breakdown or Awakening

From the earliest moments I can recall, I was always racing against time, propelled by an inner urgency that whispered of wasted moments and the need to plunge back into work. Reflecting on it now, I question the rationale behind such relentless haste, a self-imposed pressure born from societal expectations and an industry ethos that championed ceaseless toil as the only path to eventual tranquillity and fulfilment. This relentless pursuit rendered vacations joyless, as I was unable to detach and savour the moment, ensnared in the fallacy that life was a sprint toward a distant finish line of contentment.

This revelation, hard-earned and profound, underscores the essence of life as a balanced journey, not a frantic dash to an elusive endpoint.

My immersion in the ‘rat race,’ a term that perfectly encapsulated my plight, was a consequence of modern societal norms, detached from the fundamental human need for pause and reflection. In my relentless stride, I had lost the ability to relish simple pleasures, to engage with the world beyond the screen that commanded ten hours of my day, reducing me to a mere automaton.

The pivotal moment of realization dawned on New Year’s Day of 2015, a day now etched in my memory as a symbol of transformation. After three years away, including a six-month stint overseas, I returned to the embrace of family and friends, eager for reunion yet burdened by the weight of adjustment to a high-stakes role in a foreign land. Despite the cultural shocks and the intoxicating swirl of expatriate life, I was lured by the allure of financial gain, a misguided quest for ‘getting ahead’ that I now recognize as a detrimental fixation.

Though my role offered a veneer of success, beneath lay a tumult of dissatisfaction and unsustainable demands. Tasked with a monumental project, I navigated a labyrinth of endless responsibilities with scant support, each completed task birthing another, each day stretching into a relentless cycle of demands. The pursuit of client satisfaction became my Sisypsohean challenge, each small victory overshadowed by the burgeoning weight of expectations.

Granted a grudging leave over the festive season, I returned to Melbourne, a city that once felt like home, now a backdrop to my internal disarray. My attempts to reconnect with loved ones were tinged with a sense of alienation, the bonds strained by distance and time. My days were a whirlwind of social engagements, yet beneath the surface bubbled a pervasive tension, an inability to unwind, a foreign concept in the life I had constructed.

Unbeknownst to me, I had been ensnared in a web of stress so dense, so normalized, that its very presence had become invisible to me. It took stepping away, returning to familiar shores, to see the stark contrast between the life I was leading and the life I truly desired—one of balance, presence, and genuine connection.

On the cusp of the new year, I found myself utterly spent, the day’s social whirlwind, intense tennis under the relentless sun, and missed meals taking their toll. The evening’s festivities, buoyed by an array of gin and tonics and a splash of reckless abandon, spiralled into the early hours.

The night was a blur of laughter, dance, and fleeting connections, culminating in a hazy dawn at a stranger’s doorstep.

The harsh morning light greeted me with a rude awakening, my body rebelling against the night’s excesses, my mind grappling with the disorientation of sleep deprivation. The attempt to navigate home was abruptly cut short by an unforeseen medical emergency—a seizure that laid me low on the concrete, a passerby’s quick action summoning the paramedics to my side.

The hospital stay that followed was a surreal blend of clarity and confusion, a battery of tests revealing no underlying cause yet resulting in a prescription for anti-seizure medication. The shadow of a past alcohol-induced seizure loomed, casting doubt on the necessity of the medication, yet I complied, albeit with reservations.In the days that followed, a maelstrom of emotions and physical reactions engulfed me, leaving me adrift in a sea of uncertainty. Was it the aftermath of the seizure, the relentless stress I had been shouldering, or the side effects of the medication that cast this pall over me?

With the pressing demands of work beckoning, I made the precipitous decision to forgo the medication, convinced of its superfluity. This decision, however, would soon reveal its folly. The journey back to work was marked by a palpable shift in my perception of the world around me—anxiety skyrocketed, the familiar rendered alien, and a pervasive sense of dread took hold.

The once welcoming embrace of my adopted home now felt stifling, the tropical humidity an oppressive force, every sensory input magnified into an overwhelming cacophony. The sanctuary of my apartment and the faces of friends offered only fleeting respite from the onslaught of panic and disorientation that gripped me.
Desperation took hold as I sought solace in physical exertion, hoping to outrun the turmoil within. Yet, the relentless cycle of anxiety and fear persisted, impervious to my attempts at self-soothing through exercise and tranquillizers. Sleep, when it came, was a temporary reprieve, only to awaken to the same relentless storm of confusion and dread, leaving me to grapple with the haunting fear that I had irreversibly lost my grip on reality.

Returning to work after such a tumultuous period felt like stepping into an alternate reality. The familiar route, the escalator ride to the office, all seemed disjointed, as if I were observing my life from the outside. The sense of disconnection was profound; colleagues seemed like strangers, and my interactions were tinged with an emotional volatility that was foreign to me. Meetings became battlegrounds of internal chaos, with the spectre of another seizure looming over me, amplifying my sense of vulnerability.

Acknowledgement of my fragile state came not from within but from specialists who saw what I couldn’t—that I was not yet ready to resume the life I had left behind. Heeding their advice, I embarked on a return journey home, a week fraught with an intense cocktail of medication and a maelstrom of fear and confusion that bordered on madness.

The sanctuary of home became the backdrop for a complete unraveling. The world I knew, the streets I roamed as a child, now felt like a maze with no exit. The relentless fear of a seizure, triggered by the mere whirlwind of my thoughts, kept me confined, imprisoned by my own mind. The reflection on work, on unfinished tasks, added layers to my turmoil, leaving me in a state of despair, unable to reconcile the person I had become with the person I was.

In this chasm of confusion, my emotions ran rampant, a deluge that left me feeling dismantled, piece by piece. The conviction that recovery was a distant, perhaps unattainable, shore consumed me. The counsel of patience, of time as a healer, seemed cruel in its optimism, a taunt to my immediate need for solace.
Yet, as the year’s marker of this profound shift approaches, I find myself in a state of contemplative reflection, recognizing the unsustainable pace and misplaced priorities that led me to this juncture. The realization that work, once the centerpiece of my existence, should have been but a fraction of a life rich with personal fulfillment and joy, has been a hard-earned lesson.

This year of introspection and healing has been a journey back to myself, unearthing the negative patterns and self-imposed penalties that marred my well-being. It’s been a reawakening to the simple joys of life, a reconnection to the unburdened spirit of my youth, now viewed through the lens of experience and a deeper understanding of my inner landscape.

I stand now on the cusp of a new chapter, armed with the wisdom gleaned from the darkest of days, and a renewed sense of presence in the world. The journey forward is one of continued growth and mindfulness, a commitment to navigate the ebb and flow of life’s challenges with grace and gratitude. In this awakening, I find not just solace, but a profound appreciation for the journey itself, for the lessons learned, and for the promise of the path that lies ahead.

Navigating the murky waters of recovery without a clear map was daunting. The absence of concrete guidance intensified my feelings of despair, amplifying my hunger for insights that might pave the way to healing. Despite the doubts clouding my mind, I embarked on a journey of self-discovery, piecing together a mosaic of practices that, while unique to my experience, may resonate with others seeking solace.

Embracing Support

● Shared Experiences: Connecting with someone who had weathered a similar storm was transformative. It reassured me that I wasn’t isolated in my struggles and instilled hope for recovery.
● Counselling: Engaging with a psychologist to unravel the complexities of my personality and counterproductive habits was challenging. Though my patience wavered, the long-term revelations and growth have proven invaluable.
● Kinesiology: Venturing beyond traditional healing modalities, I explored the spiritual realm of kinesiology, uncovering and addressing emotional blockages, which brought significant relief.

Cultivating Personal Well-being

● Prioritize Self-care: I learned the importance of immediate self-care, indulging in passions that reignited my zest for life.
● Medication Mindfulness: Prescription drugs, while beneficial for some, exacerbated my condition. It’s crucial to tread cautiously.
● Daily Meditation: A daily ritual of meditation became my sanctuary, allowing me to connect with my body and detach from the relentless churn of thoughts.
● Sensory Awareness: I made a conscious effort to engage all my senses, a reminder of the vibrancy of life and my existence beyond mechanistic routines.
● Embrace Love and Nature: Opening my heart and immersing myself in nature’s wonders became a source of peace and rejuvenation.
● Nourish the Body: Emphasizing hydration and a diet rich in vegetables and organic foods helped cleanse my body of toxins.
● Conscious Consumption: Eliminating coffee and alcohol, and reducing sugar intake, proved pivotal in maintaining balance.
● Adrenaline Awareness: Recognizing the drive fueled by adrenaline was key to moderating my pace.
● Cherish Connections: Valuing time with loved ones helped me appreciate the richness of life beyond work and obligations.
● Embrace Movement and Laughter: Incorporating daily walks or exercise and laughter into my routine became pillars of my well-being.

Mantras for the Mind and Soul

● Embrace your current reality with acceptance and compassion.
● Treat yourself with kindness, resisting the urge to self-criticize.
● Trust in the passage of time to bring healing and transformation.
● Cultivate gratitude, acknowledging the blessings in your life
● Offer prayers for personal peace and the well-being of all creatures.
● Acknowledge the ongoing journey of personal growth and self-improvement.

In a world that often feels off-kilter, it’s all too easy to lose oneself. Yet, through my trials, I’ve gained a clarity that allows me to view the frenetic lives around me with a sense of calm assurance. If this narrative brings even a moment’s respite to your journey, my heart is full. May these words serve as a beacon of hope, guiding you towards a place of peace and fulfilment.
Warmest regards,
D.