Serotonin Soliloquy of a Control Freak

It’s been a long time since I’ve touched this. Longer than I’m proud of. I loved the idea. It was a way of breaking up the stressful monotony of thesis writing. Every time I made myself a cuppa (or the Starbucks team that adopted me for the summer did), I’d take a couple of minutes for myself and write. About anything. About everything. My life, my thoughts, my research, anything. It was therapy. A way to get out the things bothering me without dropping emotional, mostly incoherent, bombs on those closest to me. Without being a burden. 

It worked too. At least I think it did. I finished my thesis. I got a good grade. I got my diploma. I even got a job (sort of…but more on that later). I even got the guy. God, I’m lucky. I live in a wonderful house, in an amazing city, close to my best friends, with the love of my life. I have everything. I’m even off my meds! And that’s a good thing. I’m proud of myself. I’m finally in a place where I felt confident my job, my relationship and I could survive the inevitable dip that coming off anti-depressants would bring. And I did survive. I can’t say I feel better for it. But I don’t feel worse, which is as close to a victory as one can get when battling serotonin levels. 

Also, I’m getting a cat. Something I am extremely excited about. Even more in that house to love. I have so much to look forward to. To be thankful for. Because, truthfully, I am so happy right now. I wake up next to the man that I love every morning and that is a place I never thought I would be. I never thought I’d be in love. It was an unfathomable concept to me. Something reserved for the pages of a book, not a mood-swinging, mental health disaster of a librarian such as me. 

However, it can’t be all rainbows and sprinkles (mmm….cake). No that would be to normal, too easy. And when has my life been either of those things, despite my efforts. 

I up and down like a yo-yo. I could blame my lack of medication, but I was like this before. Life could probably be perfect and I would still be like this. Maybe that’s something I need to resign myself to. Maybe I already have. I don’t know. But I am so melancholy all the time. I just can’t switch my brain off, even in the height of happiness. Something is always sitting there, stressing me out to the point of tears. Or welled up eyes. Cause 9/10 times, I’m sitting in the office when this happens. And I worked hard to get here. I’m not gonna let myself cry about it. I got so lucky, started a new job I knew I’d end up hating (call centre work, its inevitable), and a secondment opportunity rolled around. It was just supposed to be a starting place for me. To get my moved down to the place I wanted to be. Plus I figured maybe I’d get lucky and get into their Knowledge Management team eventually. And what do you know, that’s what the secondment was for. 

So why am I down you ask? Well, secondments are temporary. I’m so lucky that I get this opportunity. Let’s face it, everyone working on their CV is usually lamenting their lack of experience. Here I am, experience central. But it’ll be over soon. And after almost two years of post-grad job hunting, it’s a horrible feeling to be handed exactly what you’ve worked for, just to know that you are going to have to go back a job you really don’t want. That you know will likely end in you back on your meds. 

Have you ever been exactly where you want to be in life but know full well that, even though it’s everything you’ve worked for, it’s going to be taken away from you again. Do you know what I’d give for a finish line? Theoretically, with three month’s to go with my dream job, I could be job hunting. Applying my newly earned job experience. Now if only there were any jobs going in my city. Nothing closer than London. As usual. And I don’t think I could leave. It took us so much to get this far. I don’t want to upheave this ideal lifestyle for me. I won’t. I guess I just keep my eyes peeled and my spirits up until a job rolls around. I think I can do that. I just wish I could force my spirits up when they’re down. Because I’m susceptible to everything lately. I just want to have control back. Over my job. My happiness.