My mother swore by the old adage that absence makes the heart grow fonder. I’ve found for many things, absence makes the heart grow fearful.

When I’m away from loved ones for any length of time I miss them and feel an even stronger sense of love and longing when we’re reunited (usually). But when I let go of the daily routines of my life, it’s much harder to reestablish habits.

I DEVELOP A CRISIS OF CONFIDENCE

I’ve barely written for 13 weeks, despite writing being a key recovery tool for me. I’ve written some highly emotive private journal entries. And I’ve white-knuckled my way through a dozen insomnia articles. But regular musings on mental health and life as an over-50-year-old have dried up. Along with my creative juices.

I’m trying to promote my book but there’s a sense of falsehood in claiming the title ‘author’ if I’m not actually writing.

The biggest thing holding me back is fear. Fear that my ease with words has gone. That expectations upon me are now unyieldingly high. That habits once lost, can’t be regained. And the biggest fear of all is that I can no longer think of anything that is interesting. At all. That I am in fact, very, very dull.

IT’S NOT JUST WORDS I’VE LOST

I no longer attend the gym, a place that was an outlet for so much excess physical and psychological energy. A place where I found a community of women who supported me through the darkest days of my life. I became – for the first time in half a century – a little bit fit and vaguely strong.

The flow-on effect was meeting souls who loved the great outdoors as much (so it turns out) as I do. And I’ve hiked mountains, swum in freezing rivers and kayaked around beautiful shorelines. I gotta confess, some of the happiest moments of my life have been found when I’ve pushed myself up a mountain and inhaled the breathtaking views found up in the heavens.

But all good things come to an end and for numerous reasons that can’t be ignored, my time in gyms is done. My body isn’t as fit and strong as it was and I’m afraid I’ll lose the ability to trek through the bush.

Like so many before me, I’m filled with good intentions. At 56, I can’t afford to sit on my arse all day long. My body gets stiff and sore and my butt is getting flat. I don’t want to become a 60-year-old who never goes anywhere because it’s all too hard. When it comes to the physical body, you’ve got to use it or lose it. I’m so afraid I’ve already lost it.

BIGGER THAN WORDS AND WORKOUTS, IS WORK

I left my career as a musician at the end of 2016. I exited the paid workforce at the start of 2018. I’ve wondered what to do with myself in the intervening four years. Who am I if I don’t work? What is the point of me? Big philosophical life questions.

Now I’ve been offered a job. It’s the perfect number of hours, will bring much-needed cash flow and is so close I can walk to work. I’ve started the training but having been out of the workforce for so long I’ve developed an abject fear of my ability to function professionally. What if forget something? Or make a mistake? What if I fuck everything up and reflect badly on the business? During training, I’ve learned I don’t learn as quickly as I once did. I need to be shown more than once. I don’t have the confidence to just press buttons and hope for the best.

In the past, I was efficient, quick, knowledgable and effective. I contributed. I helped. Can I do it now? Absence from the workplace has made me terrified to return but now the opportunity has arisen and I must grab it with both hands and hold on for dear life. It feels like my last chance.

WHEN I LOST THE ABILITY TO EAT INTUITIVELY, FOOD WAS TERRIFYING

With much support and perseverance, I’ve relearned how to eat. I’m not sure if I’ve ever eaten naturally, given that I was put on a diet as a baby. But now I have virtually no fear around food. So I’ve learned that habits can be rewritten and fears can be overcome.

I’ve been absent from my life for quite a few years. With a little pre-planning and a whole lot of courage, I can reestablish writing as my recovery tool, stay fit and healthy, and return to the workforce to feel a little sense of purpose in my life. Absence has made me fearful, but recovery has taught me to face the fears and keep going anyway.