How low can you go?

One of the few things that stuck in my mind from A Level English and Geoffrey Chaucer's intolerably dull 'Monk's Tale' was the Wheel of Fortune - a concept in medieval and ancient philosophy referring to the capricious nature of Fate.  The idea that we all have positions on the wheel and Fortuna, the goddess of fortune, spins the wheel at random and when it stops turning, your position determines your fate.  Those at the bottom of the wheel suffer great misfortune, while those at the top gain good fortune.  For the past twenty-something years, I have imagined myself on this wheel and when I feel life is treating me well, I wonder at what point the wheel will be spun again and I will sink to the bottom, and vice versa.  Over the past three months I have felt myself sinking further and further to the bottom of the wheel, each week hoping that I had finally hit the bottom and could at last start rising again, only to descend further.

This week I believe I encountered ground zero and imploded under the stress of my job.  Although I am working my notice, the pressure escalated  rather than abated in the lead up to a major event, and although I have been crying out for help, it has felt as though anyone who could have helped had averted eyes and hands clasped firmly over their ears.  I have never felt so unsupported, isolated and helpless in a work environment.  Each week I have seen my confidence, positivity and happiness sapped from me and this week I realised I was no longer me anymore.  This was reinforced by a complete loss of appetite - although on the plus side weight loss has been a benefit of this emotional apocalypse.

On Friday the sun came out literally and metaphorically and I took the first positive steps to finding me and my direction again.  After such a tumultuous confidence battering, I am left questioning everything and my head is overflowing with questions about my future path that I'm not ready to answer yet.  What I have learnt over the past three months is not to throw myself back into the first thing that presents itself to me, but to take some proper time out to define what I want from my life and what I want to do.  Writing is high on my list, so I intend to spend the next couple of months attempting to complete my book and if nothing else, I will finally satisfy that desire!

Also, I intend to start appreciating and exploring this wonderful, vibrant, exhilarating city I am lucky enough to live in.    This started today with a wander down some back streets where I stumbled across the masterpieces of Hong Kong's answer to Banksy.

So, please Fortuna, start to show some compassion and start spinning that wheel a little bit more favourably so I can pick myself up and start over again.

The Wrong Path

From around the first full week of starting my new job in Hong Kong I had a nagging feeling that I had chosen the wrong path.  When my rational head was telling me to stick with it, give it time, things could only improve - my emotional head was telling me that this was neither the right job nor the right working environment for me.   For the past three months my mind has been in complete turmoil and I've been lost in a fog of contradictory advice offered by friends and family, desperately trying to process the best course of action.  

An email was circulated at work a couple of weeks ago asking everyone to send one of the more senior members of the team three to five positive words we associate with the company.  Realising that the only positive word I could offer was 'money' was a big wake-up call.  Suddenly it dawned on me that I had been walking purposefully down a path I had chosen to follow, only to find that it didn't lead to anywhere I wanted to be.   On Monday I made the decision that it was time to get off the wrong path and find a new route.

So, I am currently staring into the abyss of unemployment and self-inflicted poverty, however I feel an overwhelming sense of relief.  I just have to make it through 21 more working days in my grey cubicle, under artificial light, breathing  recycled air-conditioned air before I am free to find the path that leads to where I want to go.

Surviving Hong Kong

It's been a while since my last post primarily due to work taking over my life and not wanting to spend the few precious moments away from work sitting in front of a computer.  The last month has been incredibly tough, resulting in endless soul searching over what I truly want from my life.  Hong Kong is a tough city to work in.  In the past, I have always had confidence that I have been good at my various jobs and an asset to any company I have worked for, suddenly I find myself engulfed by a sense of failure and an inability to achieve.  With my character being tested to the limits, every single day I am torn between battling on or walking away.

David and I are very fortunate that in the short time we have been here we have made some close friends and got to know our Hong Kong family - Uncle Neil and Uncle Paul - all of whom have been an invaluable support through the past challenging month.  The words of Uncle Neil, ring in my ears daily:

"Hong Kong is a city of survivors - people who have been through some very difficult times without succumbing - they respect survivors."

As a Hong Kong veteran of over 50 years, and a highly successful business man, I know Neil talks sense.  So, this is becoming my daily mantra to remind me to keep fighting, to stick with it and remain positive that all will turn out well.