I’ve been holding my breath. For the last 12 months, I’ve been holding onto the last gaps of air in my lungs. Not even realising it. Falling into a rhythm, at first, it’s easy to cope without air, you find reserves, you can live with less but soon, panic sets in. Fear and gasping. You can’t hold on forever. This week I’ve exhaled. I quit my job. I’m ready to taste my life again, to breathe again and to quite literally write a new story with my life. I’ve always wanted to be the girl that gave up her job…