2020 was a time of absolute chaos, especially working in the NHS. I wasn’t a clinical worker, but I was part of the team that trained hundreds of students, health care support workers, and nurses to be redeployed back to the front lines. It was honestly the closest to hell I have ever experienced and every single day took more energy than I have ever experienced.
It was also the only time I have ever felt fully in control of myself and of my life.
With the pandemic plunging the world into turmoil and everyone being confined to their homes, I was able to get a handle on every aspect of my life outside work. I sorted my finances out and paid off thousands of pounds worth of debt. I lost 6 stone in weight. I completed a 5km run every single morning immediately after waking up. I wrote almost every day. Everything was working surprisingly well. And then the lockdown ended and a whole new kind of chaos came into my life.
For four years, I have been trying to claw my way back to the version of me that had control. The lockdown me. The one who felt strong. I have tried repeatedly, and failed repeatedly.
By 2024, I stopped pretending. My mental health tanked. I started seeing a therapist. Every week since then, we’ve been sorting through the wreckage of who I thought I was supposed to be. Trying to find pieces I might still use. In that mess, I started clinging to the voices I had already heard. The ones who promised clarity and answers.
James Clear told me that I would “fall to the level of my systems”. The thing I have found out, is that my systems suck. They’re held together by duct-tape, self-help books, and more than a little blind hope.
Mark Manson tells me that “who I am is defined by what I am willing to struggle for”. I have to accept that I don’t know what I am willing to struggle for. Maybe that’s the problem.
Derek Sivers tells me that “most people don’t know why they’re doing what they’re doing”. That one– that hit like a hammer.
The point is that I am adrift. I am lost in a sea of not knowing what I am doing, where I am going, or who I want to be. I don’t know what I am willing to struggle for, what systems I need to be able to survive, and ultimately who I want to become. What I do know is what has worked for me in the past and the key thing for me is honesty.
A few weeks ago, I had a day off work. I stayed in bed, staring at the ceiling, deciding whether to get up or keep sleeping, trying to find something that might make the day pass quicker and get me closer to the place where I knew what role I was supposed to play. Back to work.
That’s when the idea hit me–not as a grand plan, but more like a scream of desperation.
What if I gave myself a year? Just one year to change. To try things. To move forward. Not towards a clear, fixed goal, but just… forward.
So that’s what this is. The first step forward. A place to scream into the void of the internet, to document what I do in all its gory detail. No preaching, just reflection. No pretending, just process. No hiding, just honesty. One year of consistent effort.
If you’re still with me, then maybe you’ve felt it too–that quiet ache of knowing you could be more, that you should be more, but not knowing where to start.
I don’t know the answers. But I do know how to keep going. One post at a time. One failure at a time. One brutally honest admission at a time.
So here we go. One year. One experiment. One geek’s guide to getting better.
It might help. It might just be honest. Either way, it’s real.
References
[1] – James Clear, Atomic Habits: An Easy & Proven Way to Build Good Habits & Break Bad Ones (2018)
[2] – Mark Manson, The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck: A Counterintuitive Approach to Living a Good Life (2016)
[3] – Derek Sivers, Useful Not True (2024)
Geek's Guide to Getting Better 
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