My ‘episode’ was thankfully a very mild one.
Regardless, like so many my age, this had a profound effect
on me. We’re not talking ‘holy revelation’ profound here, and it f’sure wasn’t
immediate.
But, 20/20 hindsight being what it is, it did change me.
The General Manager of a growing cybersecurity firm, I was
back at work in less than a week. A job only around four times more stressful
than it sounds.
In doing so, I’d ignored my doctor’s, my wife’s, and even my
children’s advice. And what a doofus, right?
Anyway, over the next year, I lost it.
We’re talking entirely here.
Not the will to live (thankfully!), and not my mind
(hopefully!), but the will to work. I wanted ‘out’. Out of that firm, out of my
so-called ‘career’, and even out of New Zealand! I’d had enough.
Joint NZ and British passport holders, by 2017 we'd sold up
and were back in the UK.
'Back' because me and Alice, with/without child and/or
children in tow, have been 'yoyo'-ing back and forth between here and NZ since
1989.
What was different this time was that, despite looking for
work, my first concern wasn’t a job.
Rather, it was where could we possibly retire cheaply, and okay
early, enough to still live the ‘good life’?
