I’m trying to figure out how my parents have not asked me
about my recovery for months. Like, I’m relatively convinced that my parents
never believed that I am actually sick. They don’t think I’m really not well;
despite attending family night at The Center and attending a family counseling
session with my counselor.
In regards to support, my biggest fan Lovie left for Texas
two months ago and I’ve been doing surprisingly well. I spent a week or two (or
maybe three) in full panic mode because I was still here. After a bit, I
stopped actively looking for jobs outside of Ohio. I decided to chill out,
accept where I am and stay through the end of the year and then resume my
search.
I didn’t think I was running. No matter what Lovie said, I
swore I was ready. And it really felt like I was ready, until a month or so ago
I knew I was ready. I thought I
didn’t give a fuck what people thought before, but then I realized the other
day- fuck them! This is my home, too.
I refuse to let the chance that I see someone I don’t know keep me from living
in it.)
It’s funny how things start to come together when you relax,
let go and just be. I have been feeling really content; my pieces are falling
into place. I have a great apartment, a job that I don’t love but is pretty
fun, easy and pays well, and three awesome cats. (Ok ok, I have way more than
that- family that is close, so many amazing, amazing friends to take care of me when I need it.)
So I unpacked the boxes I had packed in my hurry to make
some major changes happen. I reorganized my closet, cleaned up the mess my
apartment had become, allowed myself to get closer to friends I had started to
cut off. I even continued to see Friend and learn that I can meet someone who I
genuinely like and want to see on a regular basis. And, to my shock and horror
and despite everything I’ve learned and every self-sabotage I tried-I’ve gotten
quite attached to him. So attached, in fact, that I think we may become
roommates soon; roommates who sleep together, of course, but just roommates.
And I’ve just gotten unpacked, re-settled, content and present when a job opportunity was
presented to me. I think the reason I am sure it’s the right choice is because
I really thought hard- hesitated, even- before I got excited about the city it
was in, the job and the perks of the job. I interviewed and completely dropped
the bomb; just something about it instantly felt like I fucked it up. I spent a
week feeling that familiar failure, another opportunity that I really thought
would be great gone. But I was wrong! Today, I went in for my second interview
and nailed it; I will be getting a job offer in the next few days. I can’t wait
to get to know my new city and continue my path to getting where I ultimately
belong in my industry.
I have to move by November 1, so I guess it’s a good thing I
hadn’t had time to get rid of the boxes I unpacked, since I’m going to be
loading everything right back up!
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