beer bonging the four loko of life
Greetings from Quarantine! Population: 2 (Beaux, my trusty overweight cat).
Before all of this happened, I had conveniently just quit my job waitressing. I’d had enough of faking a customer service voice and getting yelled at for minor inconveniences (one time her name really was Karen).
I started aggressively applying for “big-girl” jobs again, and put alllll of my time into it.
Then the country shut down, and those positions I was applying for closed. The “security” I thought I had in my bank account turned out to be about as helpful as flirting with the guy who owned the liquor store that sold to underage girls. It only works for so long. Eventually your savings run dry and he finally asks to see your ID. All good things must end.
Anyways.
Lets backtrack a bit. To the beginning-ish.
Fall was a strange time. I got back from Italy, graduated college, moved home, and started dating my best friend from middle school all in the span of two weeks. It was insane. By the time I had finally unpacked my apartment into my childhood bedroom, and took the world’s FATTEST nap, I sat down and developed this ~grand plan~ to pull my life together.
This is the part where you probably expect me to tell you about how I immediately took to vigorously applying to high level jobs, working out, meditating, reading self help books, and learning a new language all while becoming enlightened and mentally charged.
But that’s not what happened. Not even close.
Instead, I spiraled!
For awhile there I only got out of bed to pee and get snacks (which I started keeping by my bed to eliminate the inconvenient medium). I exhausted netflix, hulu, and amazon. Name a horror movie, any horror movie - I probably watched it at 3PM after casually waking up at 1PM on a Tuesday. I wasn’t eating much, and I rarely left my room. I didn’t talk to many of my friends as I solemnly watched them return to college. I had been so eager to graduate, insisting to myself that I could never miss the chaotic atmosphere, but damn…did I! College was full of all time highs and all time lows, and now being back in my hometown with no one but my parents to hangout with (love you guys though! wine night every friday!) felt like all I had were the “lows”. There were no wild parties, all-nighters spent cramming for an exam or writing an essay, 4AM whataburger runs, or any of the shenanigans my roommates and I could possibly get into. I missed that thrill.
I hit my last wall sometime around October. It was one of those days where I came out of my room wearing exactly what I had worn for the past week, and my dad and I just looked at each other and he said, “this isn’t working”.
And boy was he right! It wasn’t!
So I tried out this cool new thing where I just slowly worked to fix things - one step at a time. (crazy idea, I know)
I got a job!
Not that big-shot editing career I had my eye on, but rather a waitressing gig at the pizza parlor near my house. I was instantly humbled by the overly flirtatious married men, and the constant stream of middle aged women coming in to get wine drunk at noon. People I graduated high school with came home on the weekends and on breaks, and I’d be forced to engage in that god awful “so what are you doing now?” conversation. Yikes! However, I had a special place in my heart for the regulars I developed over time (Bob and Sue, if you’re reading this: I miss you and your bag of lowfat salad dressing). The people I worked with were an actual saving grace. We would go out to the bars to play darts and watch the world series, have game night and wine night coexist, and continuously show up hungover to work the next day. More often than not, we’d end up sitting in our friend’s bedroom at his parents’ house at the end of the night: all of us crowded on twin sized beds, passing around the bottle of whiskey he kept under his bed, and talking about how we never thought this is where we’d be in our 20s. As much as we made fun of ourselves, I wouldn’t trade any of those late nights with a hodgepodge of good people that made Cypress feel less lonely.
I started going to therapy!
I had never gone before, and frankly the idea absolutely terrified me. I mean? Sit down and tell a stranger the most intimate things about me? I thought it was invasive when teachers made you tell the class about what you did over the summer. How the hell was I going to go to therapy??? But I did it. You should have seen me in my first session, sitting awkwardly in the middle of the couch, trying to make small talk and staring at the wall behind her the whole time. Truth be told, you have to put in the work. I found myself talking about everything I wanted to, and even more so about all of the things I didn’t want to talk about. We walked through old things and new things and how the old things affected the new things. I went for months. I still go! It’s been incredibly healing. Dare I say…it’s been -therapeutic-?
Shameless plug: I recommend therapy to literally everyone and anyone that is or isn’t struggling. Even going once a month just to unload does so much for you and those around you. You don’t feel so alone and you don’t put the weight on the people in your life to be your therapist. It’s confidential and a completely safe space to talk about anything you want to. I love it.
Anyways,
I got on new medication!
Can a get a hell yeah for my homegirl, antidepressants? The tea is, apparently I had been overmedicated on the wrong medication for over a year. I finally went to a psychiatrist who prescribed me meds that, get this, actually helped. It’s been months and all I can say is:
Ohhhh so this is what they were supposed to do. Incredible! Medication that works: a concept.
I made time for the things I enjoy!
I picked up the ukulele again. I spent $112 on scrapbook supplies and actually used them. Rosetta Stone has been teaching me Italian again (ciao uomini e donne). I’ve knocked out like six books in three months. I learned how to make a mean pad thai. The other day I spent an hour trying to learn what zodiac sign each Star Wars character would be (no surprise that Darth Vader was a Scorpio). Life has been full of simple pleasures lately, like cleaning out my computer files and online apartment shopping in cities I don’t live in. I have $56 dollars to my name, and I’m absolutely peachy.
Initially, I debated posting this entry. There’s a stigma around therapy and medicating (that is thankfully starting to subside), but after arguing with my pride for awhile I realized something important: I didn’t actually care all that much. Social media is this ugly monster that (i’ll always use and enjoy) usually makes us think that everyone else’s life is perfect and ours is the unfortunate hiccup in the system. Truth is: we all got shit! Except the thing is, pictures of lattes just happen to be more aesthetically pleasing to look at than your depression meal of garlic butter noodles that you’re having for the fourth time this week. Things are rocky, but how boring would it be if it was always smooth sailing?
I know life has been whacky these past few months and everyone is probably feeling off-balanced, but I just wanted to swing by and let you know that you’re not alone and you’re not the glitch in the system. My heart goes out to you! Be patient and gentle with yourself, you’re doing what you can. Some days you’re on top of the world, and other days you’re beer bonging the four loko of life. That’s just how it goes.
So, cheers. Raise that funnel.
