Sunday 22nd May
Today I cried to my dad - it was going to happen at some point this week, I have been feeling fragile and on the brink of tears at any given moment, hearing a song, podcast, watching something (most recently Sia, Chandelier). The only way to explain my mood is that a sudden wave of emotion comes over me and my heart feels heavy.
I feel lost. Depleted and unsure - of my career, future, lifestyle. Lost because I am my brand's biggest advocate, I love the customers, product, mission, company ethos and am still so passionate about the product (number one buyer). I genuinely believe in the feel-good energy it represents; even after seven years, I can see its future success. But do I have the patience and resilience to keep going? Is this what I want to do? I don’t know.
Just the other day, I saw a friend and naturally they asked how business is going - and I could not open my mouth. One word and I would have started crying, that feeling when a huge lump is lodged in your throat and saying “it’s”, even, proved hard. I stayed silent.
As things stand, my challenges feel greater than my skills. Living with overwhelm, exhaustion, disconnect and disappointment is mood that won’t shift.
Bored of working alone (and it significantly decreases my chance of an office romance) - but I can’t afford to pay anyone - I am fed up of the constant hustle and chase - there is always more to be done - and knowing that the more I invest - time, money, energy - might not pay off is completely unappealing.
Rather than a quick fix, “this feeling will pass”, something needs to change. My optimism is faltering and I feel angry, mostly; more unhappy than happy, and consistently for over a longer period of time.
I am also scared. Having not seen the results I initially expected, continuing like this could set me back further. If it fails it’s on my time, if it succeeds it’s on my time. Time that I try not to look back on and see as a waste and also do not want to keep wasting.
In 2015, I was so sure of setting up a business; my decision, this fluke encounter, felt right. Business became both my purpose and future.
Had I known the impact running a business was going to have on my mental health - mostly my body - I would have probably been advised against it.
Had I been honest and admitted to how the anxiety, overwhelm and pressure affected me at the time - losing weight, for example - I would have probably been told to stop.
Now, in 2022, probably my most mentally stable position thus far, ironically, I feel broken. As though my body is saying enough. You kept going before, you do not need to keep going now. You can rest here.
On the one hand craving certainty, a clear input/output strategy and recognition for what I do, and yet still obsessed with my brand. This is the reality I’m facing.
I keep believing that if I hold on a little longer, someone or something might come and change my life. “Work hard, and trust your hard work. There is a lot of success around the corner. Just don't give up." Naively is part of the problem, romanticising this idea that my time will come, something good will come out of this, surely? Waiting for a sign that it has all been worth it. (Has it?). Or am I waiting for permission to stop?
I could learn from this entire experience, I could do anything I want and find the security I crave. I can also appreciate why we don't hear from other founders in my position, publicly failing feels like defeat. After all the sacrifices and resilience, and claims of taking over the world, you’re giving up now? If I stopped, it would be a tiny disruption in a few people's lives (and product stash), the brand would eventually be forgotten, I would eventually (hopefully) move on, customers would (try and fail to) find an alternative, life would continue.
My business is what I want, I just want it to work - but I have lost momentum of how to get 'there'. The decision is harder than the execution and like my mum said, perhaps it’s time to get a divorce.
Because right now, I'm caught in the middle. Coming across strong but feeling broken. Nothing left to give and yet holding on, with nobody to help soften the blow. It is only me, only I can create a better ending for myself. Happiness is the North Star, not success, and removing myself from the risks of running a business could be the best decision I lean in to.
I imagine this is what grief feels like; heartbreak, sadness of realising that it might be time to let go.
And if it is time to let go, I don’t know how.
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