Well...it has been awhile since I posted anything. *blushes with shame and embarrassment*
I thought that I would give all of you lovely phoenixes an update. Last time I posted was in July. I remember writing the last post; I wrote it in Madison, WI, in a cute little coffee shop called Steep and Brew, the day after I had a job interview.
Since then, I got the job, moved to Madison for work, obtained a lovely 11th floor apartment with a view of the lake, dated someone, broke up with someone, and had countless ideas for things I could do with Phoenix (that promptly leapt out of my mind and into the abyss seconds after they were conceived). Steep and Brew sadly closed. RIP. I still want to cry every time I think about it.
Two and a half months into my new life, I can say that I am very, very satisfied with how things are going for me. I actually haven't been this happy with my life, and this stable psychiatrically, in over ten years (!). The cynical part of me is waiting for this fairytale to end, but I have committed myself to enjoying it for now.
Before accepting this job, things had been difficult. I felt like a loser, my life wasn't going anywhere, and I had zero confidence (which was actually better than most of my adult life; I've gone through periods where I had negative confidence, haha). Mood swings, hopelessness, transient suicidal thoughts, anxiety...all gone ever since I started my new life on August 10th, 2015.
This got me to thinking about the connection between life satisfaction and mental health. It seems obvious that if you are mentally healthy, you are satisfied with your life. It is assumed, however, that the arrow of causation points from mental health to life satisfaction; get more mentally healthy (through meds, therapy, exercise, nutrition, what have you) and you will develop more life satisfaction. I think I discovered, however, that for me, the arrow points both ways. I improved my mental health by improving my life circumstances. I did not change meds, I actually had to stop therapy when I moved to Madison as I my health insurance does not extend up here to Wisconsin...
What I did was make an assertive choice, against the advice of nearly everyone I knew, to take a risk, accept the job, and start a new life over 100 miles away. I accepted a job in a field I love (I work in a mental health crisis care center; it's awesome), I learned to trust myself, I serendipitously met my social needs (it turns out that when you work a job where you are constantly interacting with people, you need much less outside-of-work social interaction to feel satisfied). Beginning and (slowly, incompletely, but progressively) mastering a new job made me feel like an almost competent human being.
I think that now that I am in a good position in life, with a fun job in a wonderful city, my meds are more effective and I am better able to apply the coping skills I learned in therapy. I know that all it would take for me to lose everything is a manic or depressive episode, and I live in fear of that. At the same time, I am using my (non-manic, I swear!) increased drive and energy to strengthen my defenses against my illness. I've started exercising and I am trying to eat better. I've started taking fish oil, and I'm thinking about adding vitamin D. I also am considering taking up meditation again. And yes, once I get my health insurance figured out (which will be soon) I will get a new therapist.
So, do something that will make your life more worthwhile. This can be something subtle-take up a new hobby, meet more often with an old friend, end a toxic relationship-or it can be a total life makeover with a new job in a new city.
Do it today. You'll be glad you did.
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