So January ends, not with a bang, but with a sneeze...

January, named for Ianus, the Roman god of entrances and exits, one of the most common of the lares et penates seen in the entry to every Roman dwelling, with two faces, one looking forward, the other back. Also the etymological source for Janitor... hence looking more like Groundskeeper Willie, in the modern iconography.

So, looking backward, not to last year, but to this month. It's been intense, tiring, emotionally demanding, occasionally pretty gruesome from a health standpoint, but it's nearly over. It's been my worst month for a very long time. Bizarrely enough, it's also been one of my most successful, from a professional standpoint. I'm very ambivalent about having a higher professional profile though, because I believe it will adversely effect my work-life balance, which is something I have to take seriously from a health standpoint.

It's been nearly thirteen years since my last big breakdown, and nine years since I managed to finally say goodbye to antidepressants. yet the fear persists. I still lost my late twenties and early thirties. The time when people are getting together, settling down and deciding whether they want to make babies or not.

My priorities were different at that age. I was never suicidal, but I spent many days and nights wrestling with my demons, frequently on the edge of, or sometimes right down in, the pit. At the time, I was still functioning professionally, and my managers looked at me and occasionally gave me bonuses for jobs completed because they knew I would do it, come hell or high water. The extra money wasn't worth the grief, and occasionally felt like an insult. To be fair, though, when I came out of it, some of my managers gave me an enormous amount of slack when it was needed.

So now, I'm standing on the threshold, with one face pointing in each direction. I have a choice. Do I throw myself into work as intensely as I did in my twenties, knowing that I have the opportunity to make a big name for myself in all the right places, or do I sit on my professional laurels and try to recherche some of my temps perdu? I have a vague feeling that it's all too late for me, either way. All Madeleines gratefully accepted, btw.

In the meantime, I seem to be looking at the end of the cold that's given me some uncomfortable mornings. I have a new wide-angle lens for my camera, and yet another friend has asked me to do their wedding photographs. The forward-looking face of Ianus sees some intriguing possibilities, yet in my heart, I know my past will continue to haunt me.