This week sees me finishing up my Amsterdam adventure, and rather than a big finish with an orchestral flourish and jazz hands I’m limping to the finish line, weary and battered.

CFS has been kicking my ass, and I’ve had to take some time out sick and be incredibly careful to pace myself.  There have been moments where I haven’t been able to move because it hurt too much, the room was spinning and my legs didn’t work, but I’m back on my (wobbly) feet and aiming for the finish line.

I’ve been asked to extend  my contract here, which was expected and something I’d traditionally say yes to.  But this is one man called Steve who’s putting his health first this time, so while I won’t see the projects through to the end I will be making a good choice.

Regardless of the manner in which I cross the finish line, what strikes me as most important is that I’ll miss Amsterdam.  As chaotic as the office is, I’ll miss my new colleagues.  I’ll miss having a 15 minute commute to work.  I’ll miss living in a laid-back city with a wide choice of things to do and places to go.  As sick as I am right now and as much as I’m looking forward to being home, I’ll miss living in Amsterdam.

And I think that counts for a lot.  It’s much better to leave something and miss it than to leave something and hate or resent it, right?  That feels like an important distinction, but with the fog seeping into my brain I can’t quite figure out why.

I’m writing these words at around 10pm having just been for a stroll along the canal by my apartment before I hit the sack.  It was warm, peaceful and beautiful out there.  Almost enough to stay for.  But I know that all the time I’m ill I won’t be able to enjoy this city as I would want to.  I can’t make the most of this place all the time I have to manage this illness.  I can’t make the most of any place while I’m ill.

I’ve been a good coach and accepted this illness, but I’ve realised that I’ve been a little too good at accepting this.  I’ve normalised it just a little too much, but it’s not normal.  As a coach I’m trained to believe that nobody’s broken and nobody needs fixing, but my body’s broken and it needs fixing.  So I’m packing up and heading home, and I’m already lining up medical appointments for when I get back .

I’ll be taking a little break from writing for a couple of weeks, but in the meantime, let me know what I can do to help you out and if you have a story about taking a leap of faith be sure to let me know.