I know I seemed like a real Debbie Downer in my last post. I'm really very sorry about that. As I've always asserted, writing helps me cope with things that are bigger than me, when I can't find any other way. Trust me, even a deeply depressing blog post like the last one is a HUGE improvement over the way I used to (unhealthily) cope with things by arguing, yelling, even physically fighting. Yep, I was a holy terror. These days however, and quite a few years prior, I just don't want to expend perfectly passionate energy on fruitless exercises like that. Ideally, I'd much prefer expending that type of passion on something far more internally and intimately gratifying. After hearing what a profoundly depressing effect my last entry had on someone I love very much, I decided to re-focus my energy on seeing the positive side of life in ALL things; good and bad. I decided yesterday that I would start with my room. I'm by no means a "neat freak" but my surroundings have to be relatively organized if I expect my thoughts to be. It's been weeks, maybe even months now, of stacking tons of my clean work clothes on top of each other, on an ottoman and chair in my bedroom because I just didn't have the motivation to hang up or put any of them away (after abruptly deciding I looked terrible in them). I'd been living in somewhat of a sty, which just happened to be the perfect analogy for my mental and physical state. For some time now, my nerves have been in tatters, my thoughts have been wildly unfocused and my heart felt like it had been stomped on by a group of Sumo wrestlers. Walking around like a zombie, simply going through the motions with no purpose or meaning, is no way to live. And so on this day, the 29th day of March 2012, I choose not to. I've decided to embrace the bad as tightly as the good because challenges ultimately change us for the better...or at least they SHOULD. I've come a long way baby, trust me. I can't let a few bad months and a few self-centered people make me obliterate the fine road of progress I've built for myself. How lame would that be? Nope, I refuse to be lame, not me, not anymore. I've decided to take back my life (again). I've decided to embrace my fear, my longing, my disappointments, my anger, my hurt and every other unpleasant emotion in my life. I'll even embrace the baby-less baby bump I'd acquired by just not giving a damn. Because at the end of the day, as cliché as it sounds, I have a job that I like, in a city that I love♥, in a state that I adore and that's more than most people have. And those are just three things out of a countless number of other blessings. I also have an absolutely gorgeous home with a positively palatial pool, which has been filled with fantastic family and phenomenal friends. Anytime I'm feeling low, I have to remember to slap myself into reality and sincerely thank God for all that I have. Seeing it any other way would just be selfish, ungrateful and ridiculously immature. And at my core, I'm none of those things. Now the terms; vain, out-spoken and unwaveringly sarcastic are another matter entirely.
°Oh, and if I get laid off or terminated from my job, I retract that whole "...job that I like" part.
