Sometimes the perfect metaphor just presents itself in plain sight.
Today I was stood at the bottom of Edinburgh's Royal Mile looking west at an approaching black storm cloud knowing I'd have to head into it in order to get home.
It's been three years since I started working and first moved to Edinburgh. Part of my reason for doing this was due to an opportunity presenting itself. Part of it was down to seeking a new challenge. But a large part of it was that I was running. Running from my unhappiness, from my mental health issues, from everything that I felt was paralysing me back home.
I told myself it would be a fresh start, a clean slate, a renaissance, all the kind of shite you come up with when you're lying to yourself. In an incredible display of naivety I thought that a change of scenery was all that was required for life to become happy again.
Shockingly, it didn't quite work out that way.
Three years on I'm still fighting the demons I once thought I could run away from. Turns out that they can travel too. But I am getting better at fighting them. Part of the reason for this is that I inadvertently trapped myself with them. I was in a strange place with few friends so I ended up spending more time alone with them for company. It wasn't pleasant, but it was certainly an education.
It's not a fight that's going to end, there's no real way to permanently clear the storm clouds from the sky, but I know that the storms can't last forever, though sometimes I need to remind myself of that fact. And even in the stormy weather I can have fun in the rain.
I have no intention of running anymore. I know that it's futile. I know my demons are here for the long haul. I know that there will always be black clouds and storms ahead. I also know that after the storms there's sun and to make the most of it when the skys are blue.
I'm not running from my demons, I'm heading back to brave the storm.
Fuck it and fight it
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