There have been various reasons I have been a little absent from this blog.
I don’t want to talk about diabetes because it still befuddles me and all my recent insurance hassles and doctor visits just make me upset. I don’t want to talk about dating because I’m tired of being disappointed. I don’t want to talk about work because I’m tired of it taking up most of my life and stressing me out like no other. I don’t want to talk about DC because I still have no close friends in proximity to me and it depresses me to hell (sometimes). I don’t want to talk about Norm, my cat, because well, he’s had a rough month, too, and no one wants to hear about a miserable kitty.
But more than all of that, I haven’t written on this blog because up until a week ago, I was pretty sure I had utterly and despicably failed in DC, and I was pretty devastated by this realization. I thought it might be time to consider moving on, maybe even move back to Kentucky for a while. Why did I think I had failed? Here are a few speculations:
- Still no new friends
- Still no love life
- Still no job promotion
- Still no follow-up book to the one that started this blog
- Still no published writing, in general (minus this blog)
- Still no improved diabetes and health management (my medical expenses this past year have been kind of ridiculous)
- Still no six-pack, fit body
- Still not out of debt
- Still no sudden revelation to the theory of everything (this one really has me flustered)
After a few emotional breakdowns and the realization that my career would never fully fulfill me, I decided to give myself a year, and if after another year, things had not improved, then I would move on. Of course, this would give me plenty of time to find another job and set up shop elsewhere. I even got excited at the prospect of renting a house for the same amount I pay for renting a one-bedroom in an 800 square foot two-bedroom apartment in DC. Imagine how many better ways I could invest my finances.
But money isn’t everything. I would also potentially be closer to family and friends. I would actually have a support system that isn’t more than 50 miles away. Astounding! I could adopt a dog, and Norm, Gizmo, and little Snoopy could be a family. I could afford a car. I could upkeep a house. I could… Okay now I’m getting a little ahead of myself.
The Missed Connection
DC isn’t all that bad (but the fact that I still don’t refer to it as “The District” should tell you something). I’ve met some amazing people here, but DC is very transient, and the person I connected with last week I may not see again for another six months. Same thing with the dating scene. I’ve never had a bad date. But either there wasn’t a connection or guys just dropped off the face of the earth, for no reason at all. Again transient.
I am tired of trying, though. I’ve never put myself out there as much as I have in the past year. And yet I am still exactly where I was a year ago. Okay maybe I have grown a little? Maybe I have a few more connections and opportunities for growth? But I don’t feel all that different (just less emotionally vulnerable).
So I decided to stop trying, to just be myself, and do what I wanted to do with my time. And if I happened to make friends or meet guys, then I wouldn’t cross that off my list, but if in a year, I’m still alone, who cares (besides my family who wants marriage and grandbabies)? After all, I never planned to settle in DC, and I’m only giving myself a year.
But something has happened since coming to this depressing resolution. I’ve been less stressed. I’ve become more socially engaged. I actually committed to volunteering for more than one organization and am loving the prospects of this time. I decided to host a dinner party with all of the friends I do have in that 50-mile radius, and I started a writing group so I can stay dedicated to my passion.
What the hell?
A month ago, I was crying on the floor of my bedroom, confused as to why I was so exhausted and unhappy all the time, and why I kept having to deal with anxiety attacks. And now I’m actually looking forward to tomorrow. I can’t remember the last time I looked forward to tomorrow.
An (Un)Stable Mental Health
When it comes to mental health, especially for the more sensitive of us, the ups and downs come in waves, and when the lows hit, they hit hard. I have an awful habit of disconnecting myself from the world and people when these lows hit. Now having no one constantly in my everyday life, it’s harder for people to recognize when I’m in a low. And I assume everyone is busy with their own troubles. I don’t want to burden them with my self-pity.
But a few weeks ago, when I thought I had received another wedding invitation in the mail (and even though happy for my friend, I immediately felt depressed for my own relationship status), I opened the envelope and realized it wasn’t an invitation at all. It was a letter from an old college friend.
In so many words, it read:
I just wanted to write and say that you are such a sweet, caring, amazing person and friend. I know you have been through a lot since the last time we saw each other and talked but you are also one of the strongest people I know and I know that you will be fine through anything – that all your struggles are only making you a more amazing person. I also realize it doesn’t seem like this at times and I wish I could be closer, my dear friend, to remind you but hopefully this card will serve as a stand-in for the time being…
How did she know? Maybe she didn’t? But regardless, that card still stands on my dresser as a daily reminder of the love and support I have in my life. No matter how many lows we endure, and regardless of the foggy path ahead, we should never stop trying. Breaks are okay, sometimes a must. But just keep moving forward. The road will eventually curve (that’s my theory, anyway).