Now I’m sure there have been those who are sick of coming here to see ‘oh wow she hasn’t written anything since before Trump took office’ (okay maybe a piece or two).
Or maybe I’m just projecting my inner monologue on you, who probably just came here to see if the chick ever did find love after being the subject of a viral online dating article, or if she has anything else to say about her adventures in therapy (oh I do, I do, I do) or perhaps you came here to see if my highly intelligent cat is still working better than Xanax (most days, she does. She always may be the reason for the premature gray hairs I’ve been sprouting).
For most of my life, writing has always been away to sort through my feelings. To quiet down the chaos in my head, often times before even verbalizing to even my closest confidants what was bothering me. Through my prose, I’ve admitted to my battle with depression, struggles with body acceptance, dealing with coming of age with a chronically ill mother, and the evolution of my adulthood that has been made possible through many hours on Dr. R’s couch during my therapy appointments.
What have I been up to over the past two years that have kept me from blogging consistently? There is no excuse to be honest, perhaps it’s the same lack of self discipline that finds me ordering Mcdonalds on UberEats at 11pm on a Tuesday night. In some ways, I’ve been busy living experiences rather than reflecting on past ones that have shaped my life.
In less than a two year span, I’ve been a part of certain experiences (some willingly, others not so much) that have stretched me out of my comfort zone- to the point where it has ached at times.
I watched my grandfather say goodbye to his wife of 62 years, and less than 23 months later I sat with him as he joined her in the after life. I witnessed to two of the most important in my life decline into shells of who they used to be, and learned one of the most selfless things you can do for another human is stand by them while the life trickles out of their body. Almost exactly 24 months apart, I stood on an altar and eulogized both of my grandparents without falling apart.
I sat in complete shock when I found out my dad had prostate cancer, but without missing a beat leaped into the world of oncology, with the hope the sooner we dove in, the sooner we could dive right back out. I stood in the pre-op hallway as they rolled him down to surgery, feeling more alone than any other moment of my life. Hours later, I stood in the distance after he was out of surgery in the recovery room as the stark realization my father isn’t immortal sunk in.
I’ve worked on the on going roller coaster of emotions of being my mother’s daughter. Balancing the fine line of keeping up boundaries to protect myself without completely turning away out of the fear of reality. I’ve struggled not to get sick after watching her struggle walking to the bathroom on certain days, or when she asked me why didn’t I attended Live Aid in 80s with Freddie Mercury. But the unexpected moments, like convincing her to go out to lunch just the two of us or going to see a matinee for the first time in almost 14 years, are the motivators to keep reaching out, even if 8 out of 10 times it is not successful.
I found myself advocating for my uncle when an entire health system was ready to pull the plug, literally. There were moments in the intensive care unit while he laid unconscious that I questioned that if he did wake up, would he hate me for fighting so hard to save his life? Within a four month time span, I watched a grown man be reborn with the help of modern medicine and a surprisingly strong will to live.
At same time my uncle was coming back to life, I found myself dealing with the first experience of losing a close friend. While it was one of the most gut wrenching times of my life, the outpouring of friendship and the ability of seeing the beauty in the broken that was witnessed was breathtaking.
Witnessing the shortness of life, and the ever growing understanding that regrets aren’t something desired on your deathbed, I began exploring interests that always intimidated me. While I won’t go into full details at the point in time, for the first time in my life, I was able to exist without any hesitation. It has brought me opportunities to travel across the country, make friendships that have challenged me to become the best version of myself and has finally allowed me to truly feel a love for myself that I didn’t know was possible.
Sure there is other stuff that has dotted the landscape of my life over the past 24 months, but these are the critical moments that have brought me to the place I am at the current moment. The place where I’m really unsure what career aspirations are in my horizon, or really aspirations except for being happy in the moment as much as possible.
In 6 months, the chapter of my 20s will be closing and technically my writings will no longer be reflected of those of someone grappling with a quarter life crisis. I’ve graduated from that stage of life, albeit with a few wrinkles and less of an ability to recover from a hangover, and am grateful to be making it out of this decade alive.
Because in all honestly- there were points that it was a struggle to do so.
I’m still keeping this blog, but the name will be updated to reflect the this next stage of life and the person life has shaped me into over the past two years. While I still have a bit of time to mull over it, I’m open to any suggestions so send them right over.
There’s so much more to say, but this took enough energy at the moment. And it’s a belated Thanksgiving miracle this happened at 8:45 in the morning.