Starting January.

Here’s the thing – I’m definitely not the New Year’s resolutions type of girl. Not only do I forget that I’ve even made resolutions until March, but I think that it’s just an inevitable way of finding a way out of the change you want to make in your life. It doesn’t feed motivation, it generates excuse. However, this January is potentially going to be very different in contrast to prior years. I associate January with cold weather and the return of school term after a much too short break. This year though I may not be back at school. I have spent the past two and a half years dragging my heels through severe depression, anxiety and social anxiety to achieve a hopeful future. Reality check though, you can’t achieve anything if you fail. Dropping out for a year or two doesn’t constitute a fail either. It just creates a chance to find new direction and happiness. It’s taking me these long two years to figure that out. Maybe the reason I don’t know what I want is because I’ve never seen what I can have. I’ve grown up envious of my friends who have parents that can support them financially, friends who have are able to bring home friends without worry because they’re parents will be sober at 3:30. But this is all I know, really. I just know the bright side of suburban living and the shadier side of life. Nothing beyond that.

[Before I continue my ode to the heart’s desire to see the world, I’d like to put out a disclaimer that when it comes down to it, I would never trade my family or my experiences in for anything.]

As cliché sounding as it is to imagine myself going soul searching, I think that’s what I need to do. I need to find out what I’m capable of and what I really want. I think many people would argue that I haven’t been spoiled, given my past, but truthfully I have. My parents have given me everything they have when they can and have gotten me out of jams when they couldn’t really afford it. To be honest, my angst usually spits all that right in their face in large, ungrateful ways. I often wish I wasn’t like that, and my conscious is sincerely filled with regret. I wish I could change, and sometimes I try. But truthfully, I’m too bitter from the jealousy I’ve gained over other people’s lives and some of the truly bad things I’ve endured growing up. Which makes me feel and sound terrible. Perhaps this is my biggest shame.

I don’t want to be living in a romanticized idea of how perfectly the next year or two will work out though, obviously I’m not going to be able to move into my own apartment or travel the world. I’m going to have to get a job and work for those things, while making small changes to my life along the way. I want to read and write more and really focus of my artistic outlets. It would be really sweet if I could think coherently long enough to think of a story. I refuse to believe that my writing well is all dried up. Things won’t be easy, and I can’t expect everything to be fixed with a few pills and a few days, it’s going to be a process. Hopefully I can do it though.

In most young adult movies, shows and books there’s always that one friend who is poor with problems at home. It crushed me when I realized that that was my role in the story. Someone recently reminded me though that a lot of the time, that character goes on to better things. I had my doubts at first, but I’m starting to really believe in that part.