It all started that day when I cried on the HR Director

“There is nothing more depressing that a tired dominatrix”

Amy Poehler

It is all a bit of a cliche really.

A bright, young, ambitious girl accidentally gets promoted, and sets off to climb the corporate ladder.

She works days and nights and weekends. People come and go. Here and there a small hiccup, all chalked up to experience. Now and then a questionable decision, all in the name of “what is best for the business”. More people arrive and leave. Some come back. Most do not. Cars get more expensive. Treats become chores. Then the Big Hiccup, papered over with endorphins and ohm symbols.

Days and nights and weekends. People. Cars. Cats. Chores. Endorphins.

And then the day came. Or perhaps it was a series of days. A month? Longer.

But there she was. No longer as bright. No longer young. Just flat. Depleted. Zero reserves. Unable to sleep. Unable to recover.

My lungs are clogged with self loathing and Oh My God! I can’t breathe

How do I retrieve again all my scattered pieces, my sense of wonder, my will to get out of bed in the morning?

I don’t know.

But this is the story of how I find out.