The past few months have seen me mulling over the idea of leaving Brighton. Today I made the decision to hand in my notice and leap into the unknown.

I wish I could say this is a happy moment, but I just feel numb. Due to my casual contract I do not need to give notice, but I wanted to have a chance to finish any outstanding tasks and say goodbye to colleagues. My final day in University of Brighton is Friday and I will be moving on from Brighton next Wednesday.

Fear has taken over. But so has the feeling of defeat. A friend of a friend of a friend described her relationship with city life; “London is the bad boyfriend I just can’t quit” (approximately, I forgot the exact words but the sentiment stuck with me). Brighton feels that way. I love it, but it’s no good for me.

But, as I was saying… Fear is with me. Fear of falling into despair. Fear of not working in education again. Fear of leaving the community I have here because I don’t think I can do without them. Fear of hurting myself because I’ve stopped believing my life can get any better. Fear of throwing away all the hard work I did to get to Masters level.

Realistically, I should’ve waited until I had something else lined up. But everyday filled me with increasing dread. I had to make a move and this was the only move I had. As melodramatic as that sounds.

I decided to spend the bank holiday weekend away from Brighton. I haven’t returned yet. And whenever I plan to, I just can’t bring myself to get on the train.

As much as I don’t want to return, I’m not ready to say goodbye yet. I love Brighton. But, my current feelings are not to go back. That way I can avoid saying goodbye and the pain that will go along with it.

I went to the GP last week. My GP was on holiday so I saw someone else. He was very kind. But nothing really changed. I was given some anti-depressants that I was first prescribed twenty years ago. I was referred back to cognitive behavioral therapy – it hasn’t helped me previously, but I thought any support would be better than none. I asked for cognitive analytical therapy also. I’d rather have the CAT but I’ll take whatever comes first.

I was reading up about my medication. I last used it in 1997-98 and it helped. Though it’s the only medication I stuck with for a decent amount of time, so it may not have been the best but I had a good history with it. I was particularly reading about a memoir of a user of this type of medication. I don’t know why I am being so vague, you probably guessed I mean prozac.

Prozac Nation was a book many of my friends loved. I never read it but I thought I’d like to. I had a quick look at the reviews and was disheartened to see journalists using self-absorbed and selfish descriptive words. It has made me feel embarrassed about writing. I guess this blog is narcissistic. Then maybe I am overthinking..? Last month I spent hours researching headscarf patterns and knots because I didn’t want to culturally appropriate. I think I am a good person, or at least I am striving to be.

So, yeah, through reading about Prozac Nation I discovered Atypical Depression, then Rejection Sensitivity so I’ve armed myself with more knowledge. It’s good to have a term that describes what you are feeling. Being afraid to talk just wasn’t descriptive enough for my liking.

The university announced a voluntary severance scheme while I have been away. I don’t qualify as casual staff. But with the budget cuts I feel like now is a good time to throw in the towel.

Today I am going to have a freakshake.