This blog post was meant to be written and posted back in September. It was meant to be my debut after a gap year, detailing my extensive and amazing plans that would launch an equally extensive and amazing career. It was supposed to be the culmination of everything I had worked towards. But life had other plans.

My previous post about the trip I never had was dreadfully optimistic about my current mental state and standing in this world. I had come to terms with my gap year being cut short, but I hadn’t even acknowledged that my other hopes and plans had been thwarted along the way.

I have been job hunting since March. I have had a handful of interviews, but even more rejections. I worked for free for a while until it wasn’t financially possible to do so anymore, and I went on an e-learning buzz to try and increase my employability. I’ve been busy. And I guess that busyness hid how this was all affecting me… until one day, something so small triggered me and sent me spiralling. At the time it seemed sudden, but in reality my ‘break’ had been in the works for months.

Photo by Mental Health America (MHA) on

The first sign was that I wasn’t writing anymore even though I had a schedule and content planned, I had a mental block. This post and everything it represented was a massive brick wall in my mind that I couldn’t climb over. The wall got taller and wider and eventually I stopped looking for ways to make it to the other side. I kept pushing back deadlines, making up excuses that I was too busy with other things, rather than address the issue at hand. I didn’t want to admit to myself that I felt lost and hopeless. Confronting my issues meant accepting that things were not okay and looking inwardly on how I felt about myself. And I felt like a huge failure. All talk and nothing to show for it. I know now that these feelings were unfounded, everyone was going through it. The circumstances were (and still are) extreme and it was nothing personal, but it felt personal.

So I let this block transcend to other parts of my life. Not only wasn’t I writing for my blog, I wasn’t writing, period. I stopped doing things that I enjoyed, I withdrew because I didn’t want to keep talking about all the failed job applications or how I was really feeling.

I realise now that it all goes back to me needing to have control in my life and not being able to let go when things do start to go a bit crazy. I like plans! I like having goals and I do a little happy dance when I tick a task off from my to-do list. I’m a self proclaimed organisation queen. So naturally when things don’t go to plan, the little vein in my forehead starts to throb and I break a little.

Now usually I can think on my feet and find a way around it, but when everything goes wrong at once and with unrelenting force… that becomes a little harder to do. It’s probably because I put way too much pressure on myself. A lot of us do. Most of the time, without good reason. Doing that makes living through a pandemic and everything that comes with it, that much harder to deal with. This undue pressure only exasperated all my other issues!

So when I snapped, I can’t say I was very surprised. It was bound to happen with all those pent up feelings. It took awhile for me to dig myself back out of the hole and ask for help, but when I did my friends and family were amazing in helping me rebuild my confidence. I decided to take some time for myself, disconnect from social media and try and find a healthy routine. I started counselling and I’m working on being less rigid and obstinate with the goals I set myself. I’m learning that it’s okay if it takes me a bit longer to get things done, and there’s no shame in taking a break when things get overwhelming.

I’m hoping to be back to posting regular-ish as I get into the groove of writing again. Though, keeping with trying to be more chill, I will be taking a more relaxed approach to how frequently I do post. 

*Since writing this post, I have been offered a job as a Junior Content Producer!! More on this soon 💓

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