After my conversation with Nadia’s father, I sank into a new, even deeper depression. It was a profound despair that seemed to concern no one around me. I felt it pressing down on me more and more and saw no way out of the situation. The more I tried to fix something, the worse everything became. I was consumed by a problem that was incredibly important to me yet seemed unsolvable.
In the end, unable to find a way to cope, I began drinking heavily, withdrawing further and further from reality. Alcohol, instead of easing my suffering, only deepened the depression, and by the end of March 2015 I was forced to quit my job. In an attempt to deal with the growing sense of hopelessness, I even started renovating my bathroom and toilet, hoping it would give me at least some sense of control over my life. However, once I quit my job, I no longer had money to finish the renovation and ended up in an even worse situation. It was a hard time—I felt like I was losing control of my life and had no idea how to break free from this vicious cycle.
Shortly after I lost my job, something unexpected happened: I was contacted by a competing company that also worked with SAP Hybris and built online stores on that platform. They offered me a position with a higher salary than I’d had before. It was a pleasant turn of events, and I accepted their offer. It was a small ray of light at a time when it felt like everything was going wrong.
I met the company’s manager for the first time at their office near Paveletskaya. He told me that they were planning to move soon to an office in Moscow City. But to officially join, I needed to travel to Saint Petersburg, meet the team, and spend a week there. All expenses would be covered as a business trip, so I agreed. It was my first visit to Petersburg. After arriving, I checked into a cozy hotel on Vasilievsky Island. The city immediately struck me as pleasant and atmospheric.
The next day, I went to the company office, signed all the necessary documents, and was introduced to the team. I spent the week working with them, and thanks to my experience at my previous job, my colleagues saw me as an SAP Hybris expert. That status helped me fit in quickly. When the week was over, I returned to Moscow, now officially employed and ready for new challenges.
My very first paycheck at the new job allowed me to finally complete the long-awaited renovation of the bathroom and toilet, which gave me a sense of order and lifted my mood a little. Most of my work I did remotely, from Moscow—from an office in Moscow City, in the Empire tower, where I had my own workspace. Despite the comfortable conditions and the visible improvements in my career and daily life, my inner emotional problems remained unresolved. Constant business trips and work at the new place did not help me cope with the anxiety and emptiness that continued to haunt me.
Old traumas still weighed on me, and I began to realize how deep my despair really was. Alcohol was already a significant part of my life, robbing me of the ability to be productive or to see things clearly. Fears and doubts were eating me alive; I couldn’t pull myself together and didn’t even know how. The growing responsibilities at work only added to the pressure, and every attempt to do my job felt painful. I realized I could no longer continue working in this state.
One day, I made the firm decision to resign. I wrote to my manager and explained my condition. He was understanding and suggested we meet in Saint Petersburg to discuss the situation. I agreed and went to the company’s headquarters, located on Vasilievsky Island.
When I arrived, they led me into an office where my manager and the company’s CEO were waiting. I spoke honestly about my stress and inner struggles. They listened attentively and then suggested I think about how to cope with my condition. During our conversation, the company’s director drew my attention to a poster on the wall featuring Ayn Rand’s book “Atlas Shrugged.” For him, it was an important symbol, and he recommended I read it, saying it might have a positive effect on me.
We agreed that I would take unpaid leave and could return to work as soon as I felt better. After signing my resignation papers, I returned to Moscow, but inside I felt a deep uncertainty about what would happen next and how I would cope. My emotional state gave me no confidence in the future, and the fear of losing another job only worsened my suffering. I sank deeper into alcohol and cigarettes, which further damaged my physical and mental health.
In desperation, I decided to reach out to Andrey, who was connected to people from the Unification Church. I hoped that through them I might find a way out and join a program that could help me start my life over. Fortunately, I was told about a volunteer program on the Kola Peninsula that was starting in Saint Petersburg.
However, to join, I had to contact Evgeny, the group leader. When I called him, I explained my sincere desire to participate, but Evgeny was cautious and in no hurry to accept me. He knew about my bad habits and warned me that they could be a problem. I understood it would be difficult, but I promised him I would quit drinking and smoking—that was precisely why I wanted to go: to rid myself of my addictions and start a new life. Evgeny listened carefully and said he would give me a chance, but on one condition: if I had a relapse, I would have to leave the program. I agreed.
Evgeny immediately sent me a list of the necessary items: a backpack, a sleeping bag, a mat, dishes, and other camping gear. I had never dealt with such a list before and had no idea where to get the equipment, but Evgeny recommended the Decathlon store. That’s where I first got acquainted with hiking equipment and bought everything I needed. Then I bought a train ticket to Saint Petersburg. The whole process became a kind of ritual, preparing me for a new life.
In the evening, at Leningradsky railway station in Moscow, I smoked my last cigarette, feeling a mix of excitement and fear of the unknown. The train started moving, and as I watched the city fade away through the window, I thought that something truly important lay ahead of me.
