I like to think of myself as your average 22-year-old female living in this terrifyingly messed up society. Moving back home five months ago after completing four years of college, I had imagined for a long time the way that this would be the most exhilarating experience to finally have my Bachelors’ Degree and the world at my fingertips. I knew that this was going to be another one of the most important decisions of my life. Exploring all of my options for what career I would most like to delve into. Adventuring to whichever part of the country (possibly even world) due to my newfound love for new experiences while away at school and continuing to discover who I was and who I wanted to be. I would declare two, maybe even three, aspects of my life to be not necessarily a differentiating characteristic, but rather the more troubling that make life the interesting journey that it’s supposed to be at this point in time. I’ve been struggling with depression and anxiety for the past ten years (most prominently in the last five years), my mother passed away unexpectedly three months ago at the young age of 56, and lastly, as much as I hate to admit this to anyone, or even to myself, I believe that college exposed me to the unfortunate tendencies of an alcoholic.
I began blogging four months ago, a few weeks prior to my mother’s passing, mostly because of her encouragement to take my love of expressing myself through words to a more committed level. Given that I had begun writing in a journal occasionally, I so frequently found myself wanting to share my insight with others that I just decided to take it to a public forum. Not only did this decision help me to keep up with my frantic life of joy, regret, pride, disappointment, success, and failure; it was the motivating factor that I needed to realize that I am who I am, I’ve made the mistakes that I’ve made and learned from them, shit’s going to happen in life and we’re going to overcome it with the love and support of not only the ones that we love around us, but most importantly the love that we need to have for ourselves.
I always knew what a relief and comfort it was to know that someone had the same struggles that I did, I just never expected anyone to look for that solace in me.
I always said that even if I only helped one person in this new endeavor, I would consider it a success. That’s why I was so enlightened when it had the outcome that it did. I always knew what a relief and comfort it was to know that someone had the same struggles that I did, I just never expected anyone to look for that solace in me. Being too afraid to admit my own flaws to myself, I finally welcomed the idea that we’re always going to be judged and looked down upon no matter how little someone knew about us. I decided to grab life by the horns and hold on for dear life knowing damn well the amount of times I would be so close to falling off and the plethora of people that wanted to see me fail. I don’t quit, I don’t give up, I honestly appreciate how many times I’ve either been pushed down or fell down on my own. I’ve found that much more pride in each step that I take since the last time that I’ve gotten up.