So I packed my stuff up in Sept 06, hopped in a Budget Truck and made my way to the proverbial city of dreams. Needless to say, it has been more and less than my dreams within a 2 year span. Like anyone, I have had my ups and downs.
I have been able to maintain mentally, although there is and definitely has been some mental strain. I have been dealing with my self diagnosed depression and/or bipolar-ness. There are times when I am completely happy-go-lucky, smiling, skipping, laughing and just as fast, there are times when I want nothing more than to crouch into the smallest ball I can pull myself into and disappear. There have been mornings where it would take ALL I have to get out of bed and there have definitely been mornings that I don't get out of bed at all. This is certainly a problem and thought that it was nothing that I can't beat with the help of my Lord. That brings another issue to the forefront...my beliefs.
Lately, while in this rut, I have found solace in attending church. However, I feel selfish. I feel as though the only reason I am going to church is to clear my head, to be able to feel my heart do more than pump blood, to get into heaven. Now, I know you're thinking, isn't that the point of having a belief in God. It is, to a certain extent, yes. But when you are believing solely on the purpose of benefiting yourself, that's when you stray from the core of "Christianity." *Note* I don't like using "Christianity;" I feel that "believer" is closer to the meaning of what I am saying and how I feel. I want to get to a point in my faith where I believe because I want to, not because it's a justifiable means to an end.
Physically, ehh. I am very unhappy with myself. My dream, physically...well I was supposed to come up here and get in better shape. And I did! Surprisingly. The subway stairs and all the walking kicked my behind when I first got here. Then, all of a sudden, I was able to take stairs like a champ and master 30 block walks daily. I ended up losing some 40 odd pounds based on commuting alone. I think what's psyched me out about dieting is that everytime I have lost a significant amount of weight, I didn't make any changes in my diet, it was just increased physical activity.
So now that the weight has stopped falling off and in fact coming back, I find myself disgusted with my growing gut and sad that the stairs and city blocks no longer serve as a trainer for me. Now, I have to do actual work (ICK) if I want to lose weight. I've turned into a lazy bum with terrible eating habits and I hate that I let myself get to this point.
Yesterday, I saw a photo of the 1,000 pound man. One THOUSAND pounds?! That should be enough motivation to never let myself get there, right? Wrong! I shrugged it off and said, "oh, I'll stop before I ever get that bad." I am sure that's what he said too. Truth is, one day you could wake up and notice, hey, I don't fit those pants anymore. Then it may be, hey, this shirt is a little tight and before you know it, you're one thousand pounds. It's a scary thing and I refuse to let myself go. This is the year that I will take my life back! I'm gonna lose this extra padding. No, not to be deemed attractive by some man, but for me. For health. For a life with a little less heavy breathing.
My career? Hmm, that is another conflict/struggle/fiasco in itself. The "Negative Nelly" in me thinks that I am wasting my time at my dead end job. But the realist in me says that I am going in a positive direction. Yes, I am a receptionist for a Health Advertising Firm, but I am getting paid decent money (Negative Nelly wants more) to basically sit here all day and do what I want. (Negative Nelly thinks it's mindless work) However, I am able to freelance with the time I spend at my desk and freelance I do!
The dreamer in me wants to go back to school to get my masters in Journalism. The funny thing is, the realist in me agrees. So I guess I will be hitting the books come Spring semester. This gives me time to get it together and back on track! Yes, I hate my job, but it is a means to an end right now and suited perfectly for my lifestyle and future plans.
In re-evaluating my life, I learn that it's not so bad. There is always someone out there that has it worse than you. My problem is, and I haven't admitted this to anyone--I like to feel sorry for myself and I also like others to feel that way too. I don't know why. I have had a hard life, but it has only made me stronger today. Why do I feel validated when people recognize that? I am a survivor and I want to turn myself into a fighter. A fighter in the sense of fighting for what I believe, what I feel, what I love and what I deserve.
I have proved that I can make it here. So, can I make it anywhere?