It’s been a wild one. Quit my job at a company I thought would stay and eventually retire with. Lost my best friend. (That makes 2, since new years. Yup that’s all folks. No more to take from me. [Okay, not my OG bestie. But she’s been there since 3rd grade and is practically my sister. She lives 6 hours away though.]) Dyed my hair back to my original color. Found out that I’m closer to my educational goals then I had originally thought. Let’s not talk about the love life because it’s taking a back seat for the time being.

Oh! And my career? Or potential career? My major? Yeah, that has all changed too many times to count. My original goal was…is…one that’s a long shot. It’s one of those degrees that’s useless if you don’t get a career in that field. Its also not a stable career. But, it’s my passion. I’m happiest in the midst of it all. So am I selling out for going after the sensible thing? Should I just do what is the conventional comfortable route? It’s the adult thing to do. But it also makes my skin crawl. Friends and family are graduating and I’m just kind of chilling behind the finish line, wondering what the hell I’m racing for.

Let’s take all of that, and add in some anxiety, depression and an eating disorder. Yup. Yup. The good news: I’m on the up and up. I have zero problems admitting anything now. Yes, I’m a mental mess with baggage. Shit happens. I’m not any less because of it. I’ve joined an online support group that is trying to orchestrate in person meet ups for it’s members. I know that there will be ups and downs on the road to recovery. Hell, today was a down day. Just spent 20 minutes crying on the bathroom floor because I was really struggling with food today. Like, I said. Shit happens. It’s difficult to explain. But I’m getting there.

The actual trouble. I haven’t told my family and friends everything. They all know bits and pieces but not the whole thing. I don’t want to be a burden on them and I don’t want them to worry about me. On the other hand, talking to strangers can only do so much. Especially when I am as close to my fam as I am.

Then there’s the unashamed sense of “idgaf” and I kinda want to shout from the rooftops about all of my progress to just being more aware of my mental and physical health. Because if I felt so alone in it all. I felt like a burden to everyone. What if there’s someone I love who feels the same way. What if I can help someone just by acknowledging that I am not ashamed of my baggage.

I don’t know. I’ll figure it out.


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