An addendum to my last post:
I tend to be a bit melodramtic, eh?
I haven't totally rejected the 'American Dream' but I am choosing to no longer let it define me. Titles, job descriptions, and paychecks are only secondary to living a fulfilled life. I strongly disapprove of the notion of being something- a doctor, a teacher, an executive, a homemaker. Our being should be comprised of our friendships, our philanthropy, our interests, our outlooks on life. My priority no longer rests on the label stitched in my power suit or the title printed on my business card- but rather on the stamps in my passport and written words that bring stories to life.
I am completely aware that I can't just up and travel the world at my leisure. I understand fiscal responsibility. I may not like it, but I accept it as reality.
I am not afraid of working hard, nor do I have a sense of entitlement. I spent most of my teen-age and adult years pursuing what I thought I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I worked really hard, I put in long hours, made very little, I did grunt work and I didn't complain.
But then one day I woke up and realized that I was going through all the motions without emotion, what I thought I wanted to do all my life as an eighteen year-old wasn't what I wanted to do as twenty-five year old. I do want a full-time job, because I love the structure of the corporate world- having places to be, deadlines to meet, and relationships to foster- but I also want to be intellectually stimulated and challenged, and to absolutely love what I do. But at present, I haven't figured out 'what' that is yet.
So here I am, drifting in this state of acknowledgment that there is so much more in life to explore and achieve, and an inability of defining it and making it happen. It's not commitment I fear, but settling. I am Richard Yate's Frank Wheeler. To. A. Tee.
So the journey may seem dark, but there is light at the proverbial end of the tunnel. I will figure out the 'what' and finally turn my passions into a profession.
What do you do for work? Do you love it, or dream of greener pastures? Did you always know what you wanted to do or did it take you time to figure it out?
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
On Finding the Right Path
I knew the moment I boarded the plane that I would regret my decision. I knew that the reality of what I was returning to would not be the same as my expectations, yet there was nothing I could do to turn back time and reverse my actions. We reap what we sow, right?
Last week, I decided that I was staying in Ohio. I decided I would find a full-time job, I would pay off my debt, and life would continue in this monotonous mid-west dullness. Regret or not, I knew I had to face the consequences of the decision I made last November. Truth be told, settling for life in Ohio is a death sentence. I know it. Time would only find me in another job that leaves me dissatisfied, and still holding onto this ill-fated-emotionally-disturbing-now non-existent relationship that has already consumed three years of my life. I most likely will never travel the world and I sure won't have an anthology of published books, articles, or what have you. Rather, I would have health insurance and a pension plan. Yippee.
Ironically enough, this wake-up call stems from a little jealousy that popped up out of nowhere today. The jealousy quickly subsided into a ball of anxiety. Not to get into too many details, lets just say one of my peers who has been a thorn in my side is following a somewhat similar path as my own, circa the last two years. The jealousy I felt was not so much that this was happening (after all, I lived it already), but that this peer might have more success than I did. So what, right? I don't even want those things anymore, right? These emotions steered me back on course to where I need to be, and this is where I believe the "everything happens for a reason," mentality comes into play.
So while I'm on this 'being true to yourself' crusade, let me be honest. I know that there may be some 'real-life' friends and family members lurking, and that has never bothered me, nor does it now- but please be forewarned that for the first time, I'm not going to censor myself here....
I'm tired of pleasing people and doing things that I know will make my parents happy. Aside from financial reasons (that could have been easily solved with time), the whole reason I moved back was to make three people happy. I need to make me happy. I'm tired of pretending to maintain a friendship with someone who broke my heart, and I'm tired of worrying whether or not he will hate me when I would rather just quit pretending and cut him out of my life. Once and for all. I'm tired of letting my debt control me and the things that I can and can not do. I'm tired of this pretense that I need to be a family person, because my childhood wasn't perfect and because of that I don't feel those bonds as closely as some people do.
Maybe I have finally reached my breaking point. Maybe I am bona fide crazy. But I'm ready to start living my life on my terms. I don't want to perpetuate this disease of being someone I'm not anymore. I want to cut ties with this notion of perfection or the 'American Dream,' and I want to be wholly independent from any one person or thing. It might be one of the hardest things I've ever done, but I have a feeling it's going to be one of the best. I'm ready to struggle. I'm ready to work hard. (things I wasn't willing to do before). I'm ready to MAKE IT HAPPEN.
"If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where the should be. Now put the foundations under them."
Henry David Thoreau
"If you want your life to be a magnificent story, then begin by realizing that you are the author and everyday you have the opportunity to write a new page."
Mark Houlahan
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Transitioning from Preppy-ish to Indie-ish
Not too long ago I rambled on about being true to yourself, and I think this concept is the cornerstone to the identity crisis many twenty-somethings of my generation face. This is a decade where we begin to challenge the crowds we follow and find our distinct voice. We discover that we aren't just another character in a John Hughes movie? A brain. An athlete. A basket case. A princess. A criminal.
We are unique to only ourselves. An individual.
Some chose to express their individuality in a variety of ways- whether through music, through intellect, through fashion, or whatever medium best suits the personality they want to project. Most cases, these mediums are all connected, and even though we are diverging from the crowd, we are still (unfortunately) linked to a certain societal stereotype, are we not?
For me, this progression away from what is normal, popular, or the trend, has served as the catalyst for this identity crisis. As I was starting to question what I wanted in life, and I was turning over new stones in search of answers, I discovered a new world- music, films, writing, photography- all these different genres were flooding me with acknowledgment and acceptance. Slowly I found myself disengaging with certain aspects of life that once served as a clear identification to who I was as a person- yet at the same time I was struggling internally with this expectation to be a certain way, to be a part of the crowd.
But, part of a crowd I am not. I don't listen to the radio in the car, opting instead for my iPod. I much prefer the indie scene to that of the synthetic, auto-tuned noise that pollutes "pop" radio. You will be hard-pressed to find me in a bar (unless of course I'm working), and if you do I won't be sipping on anything domestic. But, the one thing that was really bothered me of late is my wardrobe.
Every time I open my closet I am greeted with styles of yester-year. Or, really, no style at all. I refer to it as my uniform of popularity. There's the corner of spaghetti strapped, polka-dotted dresses that I used to wear for girls night out, there's a handful of black and red dress shirts and mock turtlenecks for working game-days at my old job, there's also a bunch of sequined tank tops and a variety of other hideous, flowy shirts. SEQUINS!
Granted, I haven't had the budget over the last year to build up any sort of new wardrobe, so I have some defense. I am fortunate enough that I am currently employed at a place where it's perfectly acceptable to show up in jeans and a T-shirt. And because my social life is very non-existent at the moment there is really no need to leave my house, and thus I just wear pajamas all day, everyday. However, it is my hope that I will soon be gainfully employed where I need to be professionally dressed, and my social life will rebound and be very floundering once more, in which an expressive wardrobe is in order.
Because this is one area of my life that I can control, I've taken a lot of interest in fashion lately. So much so, that I've actually considered doing some modeling in hopes of scoring freebies. (After all, I am 5'10" and a size zero, might as well put it to good use!) Mostly, I've been scouring catalogs/magazines, fashion websites and blogs, and really looking for inspiration, in which I have found in these four, lovely celebrities.
I love the chic, casual, yet bohemian feel of the outfits Rachel Bilson and Sienna Miller typically wear. I love color and playing around with different textures, mismatching and having fun with clothes. Glamour put together a little article today that I just fell in love with these bloggers' sense of fashion. I am giddy to start online-window shopping and put together a wish-list of outfits.
We are unique to only ourselves. An individual.
Some chose to express their individuality in a variety of ways- whether through music, through intellect, through fashion, or whatever medium best suits the personality they want to project. Most cases, these mediums are all connected, and even though we are diverging from the crowd, we are still (unfortunately) linked to a certain societal stereotype, are we not?
For me, this progression away from what is normal, popular, or the trend, has served as the catalyst for this identity crisis. As I was starting to question what I wanted in life, and I was turning over new stones in search of answers, I discovered a new world- music, films, writing, photography- all these different genres were flooding me with acknowledgment and acceptance. Slowly I found myself disengaging with certain aspects of life that once served as a clear identification to who I was as a person- yet at the same time I was struggling internally with this expectation to be a certain way, to be a part of the crowd.
But, part of a crowd I am not. I don't listen to the radio in the car, opting instead for my iPod. I much prefer the indie scene to that of the synthetic, auto-tuned noise that pollutes "pop" radio. You will be hard-pressed to find me in a bar (unless of course I'm working), and if you do I won't be sipping on anything domestic. But, the one thing that was really bothered me of late is my wardrobe.
Every time I open my closet I am greeted with styles of yester-year. Or, really, no style at all. I refer to it as my uniform of popularity. There's the corner of spaghetti strapped, polka-dotted dresses that I used to wear for girls night out, there's a handful of black and red dress shirts and mock turtlenecks for working game-days at my old job, there's also a bunch of sequined tank tops and a variety of other hideous, flowy shirts. SEQUINS!
Granted, I haven't had the budget over the last year to build up any sort of new wardrobe, so I have some defense. I am fortunate enough that I am currently employed at a place where it's perfectly acceptable to show up in jeans and a T-shirt. And because my social life is very non-existent at the moment there is really no need to leave my house, and thus I just wear pajamas all day, everyday. However, it is my hope that I will soon be gainfully employed where I need to be professionally dressed, and my social life will rebound and be very floundering once more, in which an expressive wardrobe is in order.
Because this is one area of my life that I can control, I've taken a lot of interest in fashion lately. So much so, that I've actually considered doing some modeling in hopes of scoring freebies. (After all, I am 5'10" and a size zero, might as well put it to good use!) Mostly, I've been scouring catalogs/magazines, fashion websites and blogs, and really looking for inspiration, in which I have found in these four, lovely celebrities.
I love the chic, casual, yet bohemian feel of the outfits Rachel Bilson and Sienna Miller typically wear. I love color and playing around with different textures, mismatching and having fun with clothes. Glamour put together a little article today that I just fell in love with these bloggers' sense of fashion. I am giddy to start online-window shopping and put together a wish-list of outfits.
What are your favorite places to shop? (I especially love Urban Outfitters) Any bloggers whose style you admire?
Google is Taking Over the World
Despite the Super Bowl making history by being the most watched television show, ever, I did not tune in.
You may be asking, aren't her degrees in sport marketing? Why, yes, they are. You may also be asking, doesn't she want to make a career change into advertising? Why, yes, I do.
So why didn't she watch the Super (Brand) Bowl?
The Super Bowl was undoubtedly filled with the hype over the following topics: the Saints and the city of New Orleans and Hurricane Katrina, how Payton Manning is an amazing quarterback and such a nice guy, the outfits and pre-game day activities of Kim Kardashian and Kendra whateverherlastnameis, what catchy 30-second spot will Bud Light come up with this year, and how the half-time show will never be the same after Nipplegate.
Wah. Wah. Wah. I was not interested, so instead I watched Titanic on TBS. *swoon, Jack Dawson* But the real point of this blog post, is that I didn't need to watch the Super Bowl with the advent of social media. I kept one eye on the television, and the other on my Twitter feed. So, when it started going haywire over a Google commercial, I jumped on over to YouTube and searched said commercial. And voila!! The best part was that I had already seen this commercial, I can't remember where, but my best guess is some advertising website on, where else, the internet.
Yes, isn't that darling? It just makes you want to fall in love and move to Paris, huh? Kudos, Google.
But, it got me thinking about what I "Google," which is ironic because I had tweeted on Feb. 2: "Sometimes the things I google are absolutely absurd. Necessary, but absurd nonetheless." Recent searches include, but are not limited to:
You may be asking, aren't her degrees in sport marketing? Why, yes, they are. You may also be asking, doesn't she want to make a career change into advertising? Why, yes, I do.
So why didn't she watch the Super (Brand) Bowl?
The Super Bowl was undoubtedly filled with the hype over the following topics: the Saints and the city of New Orleans and Hurricane Katrina, how Payton Manning is an amazing quarterback and such a nice guy, the outfits and pre-game day activities of Kim Kardashian and Kendra whateverherlastnameis, what catchy 30-second spot will Bud Light come up with this year, and how the half-time show will never be the same after Nipplegate.
Wah. Wah. Wah. I was not interested, so instead I watched Titanic on TBS. *swoon, Jack Dawson* But the real point of this blog post, is that I didn't need to watch the Super Bowl with the advent of social media. I kept one eye on the television, and the other on my Twitter feed. So, when it started going haywire over a Google commercial, I jumped on over to YouTube and searched said commercial. And voila!! The best part was that I had already seen this commercial, I can't remember where, but my best guess is some advertising website on, where else, the internet.
Yes, isn't that darling? It just makes you want to fall in love and move to Paris, huh? Kudos, Google.
But, it got me thinking about what I "Google," which is ironic because I had tweeted on Feb. 2: "Sometimes the things I google are absolutely absurd. Necessary, but absurd nonetheless." Recent searches include, but are not limited to:
- "Having no sense of smell," which is scientifically referred to as anosmia. And, yes, I am a sufferer.
- "Faulty fuel pump symptoms," because apparently that is what believe to be wrong with my car.
- "Inner part of upper ear," which I believe is called the helix (I can't remember), but I had a very painful zit there for the better half of a week. It deserved some googling.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Introducing the 'Cin' City
Since I made the decision that I will be staying put in Ohio [for the time being], one of my top priorities is to explore and (re)discover my city, which happens to be Cincinnati. Although I am currently living in the suburbs (eek!) with my mom (double eek!) Cincinnati is just a short thirty-minute trip away. Plus, once I get a full-time job (ooooh positivity), I will be making my grand return to 'that nasty 'Nati.'
A lot of exciting things are happening, and I'm eager to throw myself in the thick of it and hopefully have a presence in the city. Right now officials are really pushing for a re-urbanization of downtown, encouraging more people to live, work, and play in the city sector. 'Over the Rhine' is notoriously the bad part of town, and for decades it has been littered with drug dealers, violence, and an overall poor reputation. Housing developments have pushed these people into other districts and a large re-branding effort has been launched.
One thing that I've always hated about Cincinnati is its division in neighborhoods. There is a long-standing rivalry between the "east side" and the "west side," and which is better. Truth be told, I think it's annoying, and I hate that you have to claim a side... why must I be one or the other, why can't I be an assimilation of the two? While the east side is liberal, cultural, and educated- the west side is its polar in that it is conservative, more low-brow, and close-minded. Not to mention Cincinnati's other neighborhoods that are often overlooked, like the Northside (the artsy/hipster/gay community).
Currently, officials are levying for a streetcar to be introduced in Cincinnati, allowing for easier, more streamlined transportation between the 'burbs and downtown. It is my hope that a streetcar will also alleviate some of this tension between East and West. If a thirty minute or longer commute can be shortened, or made more convenient, I would assume that more people would leave their individual communities, branch out, and adopt Cincinnati in its entirety. I believe that Cincinnati has such a diverse hodgepodge of people, but everyone stays confined in their own homogeneous communities, which only furthers this childish rivalry. It took moving to Los Angeles for me to be exposed to certain lifestyles, backgrounds, and cultures- anything from politics, style of dress, music preference, to cuisine. The way I grew up is not the type of place I want to live in now that I'm back... it's 2010, Cincinnati! Let's broaden our horizons and teach our children indifference and acceptance! Let's grow our minds, our opinions, and our palates!
Having lived and worked on the "west side," but feeling more aligned with the ideals and lifestyle of the "east side," I am making concerted efforts to explore all the city has to offer with an unbiased eye. However, I am hoping that the future allows me to centralize my work, living, and leisure in downtown Cincinnati, allowing me to expand my activities in any direction I so please, any given day of the week.
What do you love about your city?
A lot of exciting things are happening, and I'm eager to throw myself in the thick of it and hopefully have a presence in the city. Right now officials are really pushing for a re-urbanization of downtown, encouraging more people to live, work, and play in the city sector. 'Over the Rhine' is notoriously the bad part of town, and for decades it has been littered with drug dealers, violence, and an overall poor reputation. Housing developments have pushed these people into other districts and a large re-branding effort has been launched.
One thing that I've always hated about Cincinnati is its division in neighborhoods. There is a long-standing rivalry between the "east side" and the "west side," and which is better. Truth be told, I think it's annoying, and I hate that you have to claim a side... why must I be one or the other, why can't I be an assimilation of the two? While the east side is liberal, cultural, and educated- the west side is its polar in that it is conservative, more low-brow, and close-minded. Not to mention Cincinnati's other neighborhoods that are often overlooked, like the Northside (the artsy/hipster/gay community).
Currently, officials are levying for a streetcar to be introduced in Cincinnati, allowing for easier, more streamlined transportation between the 'burbs and downtown. It is my hope that a streetcar will also alleviate some of this tension between East and West. If a thirty minute or longer commute can be shortened, or made more convenient, I would assume that more people would leave their individual communities, branch out, and adopt Cincinnati in its entirety. I believe that Cincinnati has such a diverse hodgepodge of people, but everyone stays confined in their own homogeneous communities, which only furthers this childish rivalry. It took moving to Los Angeles for me to be exposed to certain lifestyles, backgrounds, and cultures- anything from politics, style of dress, music preference, to cuisine. The way I grew up is not the type of place I want to live in now that I'm back... it's 2010, Cincinnati! Let's broaden our horizons and teach our children indifference and acceptance! Let's grow our minds, our opinions, and our palates!
Having lived and worked on the "west side," but feeling more aligned with the ideals and lifestyle of the "east side," I am making concerted efforts to explore all the city has to offer with an unbiased eye. However, I am hoping that the future allows me to centralize my work, living, and leisure in downtown Cincinnati, allowing me to expand my activities in any direction I so please, any given day of the week.
What do you love about your city?
Friday, February 5, 2010
It's Not Always Rainbows and Butterflies: A Day in the Life of a 20-Something
First and foremost, thank you all dearly for your sweet comments on my last post. You are all too kind, and it's refreshing to know that I'm not alone in my quarter-life identity crisis/rants. I assure you I'm not always so moody, but apparently those days are when the mood to write strikes most often.
The silver lining in all this? I am discovering all the things that I love- I am drunk on the possibilities that my imagination unravels. I am inspired by the mundane to transform it into the extraordinary. My biggest problem is that I want to go, go, go and do, do, do... yet I am still transfixed by this societal notion of being perfect. I can admit that my biggest fear is failure, but more often than not I set myself up for failure by not trying. Or, when I do try, I am putting in minimal effort so that I have an excuse when I do fail, or at least my disappointment has a just cause. In essence, I am so afraid of failure that I allow myself to fail- a self-fulfilling prophecy, if you will?
When life started to get tough a few years ago, when I was diagnosed with depression, I ran away from my problems--school, the one thing that defined me, was over; my job was leading into dead-ends; and my first love was unreciprocated. It was almost as if I was afraid of being bad at being depressed, so instead of confronting my issues, I ran away from them. When things weren't going my way in California I allowed those doubtful "she's never going to make it out there," voices come creeping in. If people expected me to fail, then there's no one to disappoint, right? Except the biggest person of all, me.
It's been two months since I've been back home and it's pretty apparent through my last post that I'm not really happy with the state of my life right now. I was watching Love Happens tonight with my mom, and at one point in the movie the main character Burke, who is a conflicted self-help guru, is telling his patients to "stop looking in the rear view mirror," that it's time to move forward and on with their lives. It really struck a chord with me.
I got to thinking-- yes, California was wonderful. I made some great friends and memories I will cherish for a lifetime. It was what I needed this past year, to refocus on me. But California happened, and it's over, and right now my life is back in Ohio. I can continue living in the past- reliving the "glory" and being stagnant in the present while grasping at ways that would get back to the west coast. Or, I can buckle up for the rocky road that is getting on with my life, here. In Ohio.
It's time to confront those issues that I ran away from. I was unhappy with my job two years ago- enough that I was walking away from the one company I had spent my whole life dreaming of working for. Why? Why did I let school define me? Was it because it's so easy to say "I'm a business major," and that guarantees me a perfect cubicle life post-8am classes? So when that didn't happen, was there was nothing left to define myself by? If my love wasn't reciprocated then why was I holding onto this failed relationship, willing to give it another chance- perpetuating the heartbreak? Any why is failure such a prominent theme in my life?
For two months I have been having this battle-- and maybe I'm being a little hard on myself. There is a huge part of me that just wants to say, "screw it all," and go do all the things I want to do. Like travel the world and write a memoir, and be the next Elizabeth Gilbert. But then there's the fact that I have student loan debt up to my eyeballs because I thought buying an education guaranteed success, or the fact that I can't even start writing a memoir because I've never taken a class on writing and ohmygod-it-might-be-terrible. See? These are the thoughts that run through my head. Then there are other days where I really miss the corporate structure, the corporate culture, and overall feeling of success and accomplishment, and I decide I want back in the action more than anything. But then I remind myself that my degrees are so specialized in sport marketing and that's not what I really see myself doing long-term, and that it's a crummy job market and I have too much education and experience for entry-level work, and ohmygod-no-one-will-hire-me.
Can you see in both instances where this perfectionism is paralyzing? This innate fear of failure results in me Not. Even. Trying. I spend all night lying awake with stress, and spend all day staring at the computer not knowing where or how to begin. It all reached a boiling point early this week, hence my last post. I really hope this explains that I'm not crazy.
Or, maybe it explains just how crazy I am. But I really hope it's the former.
Tonight I made the first step, and cemented my plans of staying in Ohio. I'm not going to run away anymore. Next, I need to find the girl inside of me that used to take a full course load, work a student-aide job, work part-time as a waitress, and also interned. That hard-worker is still there. After that, I need to find the girl inside of me that applied for the same internship three years in a row until she got it, three years later. That competitive-streak is still there. And after that, I need to find the girl inside of me that moved to California not knowing a soul, chasing after a life-long dream of moving away. That risk-taker is there there.
So thanks for bearing with me, and as I shuffle through my problems and find my footing again, I promise to share with you more of the positives. Because there's a lot of happiness in my life, too.
The silver lining in all this? I am discovering all the things that I love- I am drunk on the possibilities that my imagination unravels. I am inspired by the mundane to transform it into the extraordinary. My biggest problem is that I want to go, go, go and do, do, do... yet I am still transfixed by this societal notion of being perfect. I can admit that my biggest fear is failure, but more often than not I set myself up for failure by not trying. Or, when I do try, I am putting in minimal effort so that I have an excuse when I do fail, or at least my disappointment has a just cause. In essence, I am so afraid of failure that I allow myself to fail- a self-fulfilling prophecy, if you will?
When life started to get tough a few years ago, when I was diagnosed with depression, I ran away from my problems--school, the one thing that defined me, was over; my job was leading into dead-ends; and my first love was unreciprocated. It was almost as if I was afraid of being bad at being depressed, so instead of confronting my issues, I ran away from them. When things weren't going my way in California I allowed those doubtful "she's never going to make it out there," voices come creeping in. If people expected me to fail, then there's no one to disappoint, right? Except the biggest person of all, me.
It's been two months since I've been back home and it's pretty apparent through my last post that I'm not really happy with the state of my life right now. I was watching Love Happens tonight with my mom, and at one point in the movie the main character Burke, who is a conflicted self-help guru, is telling his patients to "stop looking in the rear view mirror," that it's time to move forward and on with their lives. It really struck a chord with me.
I got to thinking-- yes, California was wonderful. I made some great friends and memories I will cherish for a lifetime. It was what I needed this past year, to refocus on me. But California happened, and it's over, and right now my life is back in Ohio. I can continue living in the past- reliving the "glory" and being stagnant in the present while grasping at ways that would get back to the west coast. Or, I can buckle up for the rocky road that is getting on with my life, here. In Ohio.
It's time to confront those issues that I ran away from. I was unhappy with my job two years ago- enough that I was walking away from the one company I had spent my whole life dreaming of working for. Why? Why did I let school define me? Was it because it's so easy to say "I'm a business major," and that guarantees me a perfect cubicle life post-8am classes? So when that didn't happen, was there was nothing left to define myself by? If my love wasn't reciprocated then why was I holding onto this failed relationship, willing to give it another chance- perpetuating the heartbreak? Any why is failure such a prominent theme in my life?
For two months I have been having this battle-- and maybe I'm being a little hard on myself. There is a huge part of me that just wants to say, "screw it all," and go do all the things I want to do. Like travel the world and write a memoir, and be the next Elizabeth Gilbert. But then there's the fact that I have student loan debt up to my eyeballs because I thought buying an education guaranteed success, or the fact that I can't even start writing a memoir because I've never taken a class on writing and ohmygod-it-might-be-terrible. See? These are the thoughts that run through my head. Then there are other days where I really miss the corporate structure, the corporate culture, and overall feeling of success and accomplishment, and I decide I want back in the action more than anything. But then I remind myself that my degrees are so specialized in sport marketing and that's not what I really see myself doing long-term, and that it's a crummy job market and I have too much education and experience for entry-level work, and ohmygod-no-one-will-hire-me.
Can you see in both instances where this perfectionism is paralyzing? This innate fear of failure results in me Not. Even. Trying. I spend all night lying awake with stress, and spend all day staring at the computer not knowing where or how to begin. It all reached a boiling point early this week, hence my last post. I really hope this explains that I'm not crazy.
Or, maybe it explains just how crazy I am. But I really hope it's the former.
Tonight I made the first step, and cemented my plans of staying in Ohio. I'm not going to run away anymore. Next, I need to find the girl inside of me that used to take a full course load, work a student-aide job, work part-time as a waitress, and also interned. That hard-worker is still there. After that, I need to find the girl inside of me that applied for the same internship three years in a row until she got it, three years later. That competitive-streak is still there. And after that, I need to find the girl inside of me that moved to California not knowing a soul, chasing after a life-long dream of moving away. That risk-taker is there there.
So thanks for bearing with me, and as I shuffle through my problems and find my footing again, I promise to share with you more of the positives. Because there's a lot of happiness in my life, too.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
On Feeling Lost
"It's the fear of the unknown. The unknown is what it is. And to be frightened of it is what sends everybody scurrying around chasing dreams, illusions, wars, peace, love, hate, all that-- it's all illusion. Unknown is what it is."
John Lennon
I'm struggling. Slipping. Detaching. Smiling less. Worrying more.
I am a blank canvas devoid of all color. I am an artist with no muse.
I am a stalled car. Broken down while others zoom by. Shiny and new.
I don't know what I want- to do, to be, to live, to love.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)

