I have never been great at sticking to things. Exercise is the probably a classic example of this. (My previous main use of a gym was the sauna or steam room).

But the one thing I have stuck to is work. I am a sucker for sticking with a job for the sake of it. But when is enough actually enough? What really has to happen to make you realise that this is just not worth it? How much do you have to give up before you realise that this isn’t life as you wanted it?

Anyone who works in the events world will understand where I am coming from. They will understand the sacrifices made in order to be the best at your job that can be humanly possible. The sleepless nights; the endless homes away from home; the glorified expensive wardrobe that was once your bedroom; the friends you used to have; the family you used to visit; the routine you never had; the sleep you could only wish for; the partner you used to spend time with

We are so quick to complain about our lives but they are all choices we have made. And we always continue to complain but they are all choices we KEEP making. Our bodies have very clever ways of telling us to stop. Or warning us that we should slow down. In my case I just ignored every warning. I have been to A&E seven times this year. I have had 5 viral infections, 2 parasites, 2 trapped nerves, 2 ripped intercostal chest muscles, 12 physio trips, 12 doctors appointments, 8 prescriptions, 2 breakdowns, 10 panic attacks, 4-5 hours sleep a night for five months….. the list is endless because I just have not listened.

It is no one’s fault but mine. So now it is up to me alone to make a change.

It got to September this year for me to realise just how bad it had really got. I pressed Delete on everything, without proper thought or reasoning. I hurt the people closest to me by being selfish. I cried endless tears because I was not physically able to go an hour or so without feeling sad. Without feeling worthless. Without feeling that it was all just totally useless. Pointless.

It was my physio who told me that my body had had enough. My muscles were fixed and nerves untrapped. I was holding onto months of stress and anger and frustration and not making enough time to look after me. For those who have suffered endless health problems you will know how emotionally and physically exhausting it is on a daily basis.

I cannot remember the last day I woke up and felt normal.

So I have started to run again. And it feels good. (Despite the fact I ran in the rain yesterday and it has now resulted in a horrendous chest cold.)

I have spent the weekend doing exactly what it is that I wanted to do. Doing it for me. And I want this to last.

And I want to thank him for helping me. Four times over.