I told myself I would sit down and write a blog entry today, because it had been a while since I had written one. Of course, getting up out of bed and not watching soaps/daytime television/sitting in bed reading manga/playing Pokemon/generally feeling sorry for myself is never a good idea, though it always seems like one when you're stuck in it. We all get depressed for whatever reason or another, and that's what I'd like to try and tackle today -- as well as to my solution.
Grief has five stages, and I've been in stage four for about the last three days or so. I'm finally starting to reach stage five, which is why I'm able to write this now.
Stage one was all of Tuesday (which was SUPPOSED to be a holiday). Stage two was the later part of Tuesday and part of Wednesday, when I officially got word that my job was over. Stage three was all of last week, and then four started over the weekend when my boyfriend started working hardcore at both of his jobs. Yeah, he has two, I have none now, and that's somehow fair?
I know I should stop complaining and just "get over it," get back out there, get another real job with insurance and benefits. But the trip I took to North Carolina back at the beginning of this month has me thinking that there are things more important to me than working forty hours a week to make ends meet. And because I've started believing in myself and in this model more, doors have been opening up that I can't even believe. To be honest? I'm having a bit of trouble not looking a gift horse in the mouth.
I've been coping two ways: food and boyfriend. I used food to deal with all of my stress in college, and so since I KNOW it's a way I deal with stress, I can be smart about it. This means filling up my fridge with things I can eat that won't come back to hurt me (lots of veggie packs) and going to Mickey D's only when I'm with the boyfriend. If I'm absolutely stuck, I'll run over to the BP nearby and grab a Code Red (which I just did). I've also been talking with my boyfriend about what bothers me, even though I know he's busy with work as well. I've been nervous about this, but he's told me he'd rather I talk to him and give him more of my issues, so who am I to judge?
As part of my thought process, I tried to think back to when I wasn't worried about money, or working, or making ends meet. There were a few times I could think of, and there were separate 'tragedies' that happened after each of them to make me 'normal' and worried again:
-- Graduating from college and being hopeful about what to do next, only to be told it was time to grow up and get a job like everybody else (complete with kicking me out of the house)
-- Going to college feeling inspired until I couldn't forgive people for their hypocracy, and they told me I would never be famous and I believed it
-- Being extremely creative my eighth/ninth grade years but constantly being told I was weird and misunderstood by my parents
The way I was treated wasn't wrong; the way I treated the situation was. Instead of finding a way around it, I curled up in a ball. But then again, I didn't really know how to do anything any differently back then.
When I thought back, I realized I'm still being inspired by that time long ago. I was able to be friendly enough with people at school, and even though my best friend wasn't at school with me, we still hung out every chance we got. It was during this time that I created most of what I would later throw away...and then struggle to bring back ten years later. And I put it away because after time after time of struggling, I figured out that's not how the world works? All that's left is to ultimately forgive myself for that, and worry disappears, and the wide sky opens up once more.
They say the world is a scary place, and the rules change when you're no longer a kid and obsessed with the Backstreet Boys/NSYNC/Big Time Rush/Jonas Brothers/OneDirection. Grow up, they say. I think it's just important to grow up in the ways that matter, and at the end of the day, to shut the door and see who and what really matters. There will probably be life changes in the next month and a half that reflect this, but I'll be ready for them, one way or another.
After all, God didn't forget I'm just a baby, right?