In 2013, during my first year of university, my grandad passed away. Although he‘d led an excellent life, he was the hub of the family and his death left a big void. My response, as is a lot of people’s response to grief, was to keep busy and do things that made me feel like I had a sense of control. I found myself balancing 3 part time jobs on top of university. This need for regained control spilled over into my daily life in the form of my diet. I started to become addicted to the control that I had over what I ate and the weight began to drop off.
Ah depression and anxiety, my two controversial friends that have placed me in a non-consensual three-way relationship which is often very difficult to deal with. I can wake up some days and feel like I’m ready to take on anything. But on one side of the bed, I’ll have my anxiety badgering me about the million and one things that will go wrong today.
I had never heard of the word anxiety. I had heard of depression but didn’t understand it, and at that point, I never thought it would hit me.
In 2012 I graduated with a 2:1 degree, made amazing friends and I was working for a company I loved. Unfortunately, things didn’t work out where I was working and I decided to leave my job and search for another one. It was a hard decision walking away from the company I loved but I knew I had my education and experience on my side.