Plot twist: how a complete life implosion led to my most creative chapter yet
So, here we are, almost two months into my “daring next” adventure. I’m sitting at my laptop thinking I should create an update and then chronicle a grand new learning curve I’ve just dived into (which is honestly quite exhilarating from my gaze at the very start: creating a website from scratch using AI tools!). But before I go headfirst into the wonderful world of code and pixels, I figured I should probably bring you up to speed on how I landed in this particular corner of the internet universe.
It's been quite the ride, and if I'm being honest, the start has been rough.
The Job That Nearly Broke Me
Let's start with the elephant in the room, shall we? I finished my job at the end of July, and friends, when I say that experience truly broke me, I mean it in every sense of the word. There's something uniquely soul-crushing about workplace bullying that goes beyond just having a bad day at the office. It's designed to break you down, to shove you into whatever corner they've decided you belong in, and honestly? It's absolutely crazy-making.
By the end of my resignation period, I was running on anxiety levels that would make a caffeine addict jealous. Insomnia became my unwelcome companion, OCD decided to throw its own little party, and just to add insult to injury, my body decided to stage its own rebellion with the most spectacularly awful head cold. Because apparently, stress wasn't enough—I needed to wade through my final week struggling to draw a deep breath from anxiety and congestion!
The goodbye situation was... well, let's just say it was perfectly on brand for the whole experience. My team leader couldn't even muster up a farewell (classy, right?!), and my senior manager initially tried to text his goodbye. I mean, come on. Three years of working together and you're going to “kind regards” me via SMS? I called him on it, and to his credit, he did find the courage to actually phone me later. Poor guy probably thought I was going to unleash three years of frustration, but that's just not my style. If he hadn't listened to my concerns for three years, why would a final conversation change anything?
Here's the thing that kept me sane though: my clients. With no handover instructions (because of course there weren't any), I worked my absolute hardest to set up whoever was taking over in the best possible way. When it came time to let my clients know I was moving on, I braced myself for awkward and polite corporate responses. What I got instead was absolutely incredible. Over 90% response rate. NINETY PERCENT. And such incredibly kind words that they literally soothed my very broken soul. It was like having a warm hug delivered directly to my inbox with each reply, reminding me that while I might not have been a good fit for that team or company, I had made a real difference where it truly mattered.
Rock Bottom Has Excellent WiFi
I finished on a Thursday. By the weekend, OCD had decided to throw its own little celebration party, and not the fun kind with cake and balloons. I pulled out every self-care technique I'd learned in therapy, tried all my usual coping strategies, but you know what actually worked? Snuggling in a blanket on my couch and binge-watching all the seasons of Nashville. Every. Single. Episode.
There's something beautifully ironic about finding peace in a show about the music industry drama, but it calmed my mind in a way I can't quite describe. Sometimes the best thing you can do is just stop. Allow your body to start healing. Let yourself get over that ridiculous head cold. Give your nervous system permission to remember what "not constantly stressed" feels like.
When Life Decides You Haven't Had Enough
Just when I thought I could start picking up the pieces, life decided to throw me another curveball. My grandmother died the following Tuesday. She was 96 and had been battling dementia for years, so it was the end of a very, very long goodbye. But knowing it's coming doesn't make it hurt less—it was just all so incredibly sad.
I ugly cried. A lot. And you know what? It was exactly what I needed. All that grief for my grandmother collided with the grief from a job I just couldn't survive in no matter how hard I tried, and I let myself feel all of it. The sadness, the anger, the fear, the relief, every messy, complicated emotion.
Here's the thing: I absolutely refuse to let myself be a victim. I hate that mentality with a passion. Life is hard, but our choices determine so much of the outcome. So, right there in August, in the middle of all that mess, I made a decision. I was going to move through this. Feel it all, grieve it all, be angry about it all, be scared about it all, and then keep putting one foot in front of the other.
Small Steps, Big Wins
When you're in the midst of struggle, everything seems foggy and overwhelming, but I've learned that sometimes the smallest steps create the biggest mental shifts. Case in point: my laundry situation had evolved from "Mount Everest" to "entire mountain range." Out of sheer necessity for clean clothes, I started tackling it. Getting that pile down to a manageable size—aka being able to actually close the laundry basket lid—felt huge.
I ordered fancy cleaning products and scrubbed my shower until it sparkled. I put into action a long-held plan for honoring my grandmother's memory by visiting her hometown. I parked my car in a beachside carpark just as a storm was clearing and ate McDonald's while watching windsurfers make the most of the crazy weather. It's exactly something we would have done together, and it felt perfect.
Plot Twist: Dallas 2.0 Has Entered the Chat
By the time I got home, something had shifted. I realised I'd walked myself through a mountain of grief, and underneath all that heaviness, I found something unexpected: excitement. Pure, bubbling excitement for whatever comes next.
Here's where it gets interesting. I've always been a problem solver at work—it's my jam. Give me a process that works well, and I'll make it better. Show me something broken, and I'll fix it. Ideas flow easily when it comes to work stuff. But when it comes to my own career? My own reinvention? That well has been bone dry for years.
My father used to say, from the time I was about twelve until long after he retired, "Is there life after engineering?" He was stuck in a job he no longer enjoyed, his health was suffering from the chemicals he worked with, but he never successfully pivoted. A few months ago, I realised with horror that I'd become a version of him—no ideas for myself, desperately wanting change but hearing his limiting mantra in my own voice.
But now? Woah, NOW my brain is firing like never before. I'm so full of creative ideas about things to try, paths to explore, projects to tackle. It's like that huge upheaval and pain of July and August created a new Dallas 2.0, and she is DETERMINED not to waste this opportunity for reinvention.
The Adventure Begins
Most days, I have no idea beyond the very next step I'm taking. But I feel so driven, so energised, so ready to see where this wild ride takes me. My mind feels stronger every day, my body is healing from all that stress, and I'm embracing the delicious discomfort of learning new things while refusing to let overwhelm win (which has been surprisingly easy, actually).
I end most days completely exhausted, but in the best possible way. Like my mind is finally coming alive with inspiration after years of hibernation.
So hold onto your hats, friends, because I honestly have no idea where this journey is going to end up. What I do know for sure is this: I'm going to have fun, I'm determined to succeed, and there is absolutely no Plan B.
Ready to build something amazing together?
Dallas 2.0 💫
Next up: Why I chose AI as my coding co-pilot and what I'm planning to build. Spoiler alert: I'm probably in way over my head, the husband is shaking his head just a tad, and I couldn't be more excited about it.