I know I have not written recently about anything, let alone anything important or any new revelations that I have had. But today, as I scrolled through my Facebook posts, I noticed that one of my friends had created a blog about her family. She and her husband, along with their two young kids, have recently gone through a horrible tragedy. Someone (or something) set fire to their kitchen stove when they were away for Thanksgiving break with their extended family. They returned home to find their kitchen burned, a cat missing, and smoke damage too extensive for them to move in.
Reading through the thoughts and feelings of my friend (who I haven’t seen in years) brought me some inspiration to write a new post. I’m not really sure why it has, but I’m going with this gut instinct that I need to start taking more time for myself and writing.
Luckily, I don’t have anything nearly as horrible to report. My life has been good lately, even great. I’ve successfully passed through another semester at work, my pup has started to mature a bit, and my boyfriend and I are in a relationship that is as strong as anything I’ve ever known.
I think the greatest thing is that, lately, my anxiety has been at an all-time low. I know that I have felt stressed and anxious about different subjects or events in my life recently, but it has been at least 6 months since I have had a panic attack. What’s more; I was able to talk to a coworker recently about how anxiety affects the both of us. I feel great knowing that I now have a shoulder to lean on who will understand even while I am at work.
I think the biggest adventure to have popped into my life recently is the “Big Move”. Okay, maybe it’s not so big (yet). Basically my boyfriend wants to move out of the house where he currently lives and into a home that will one day be our’s. I am more than ecstatic at the thought! It’s crazy; I never wanted to move out of my parents’ house before. I always thought I’d end up being one of those old maids who had never had any intention of moving away from the family. Though, as I’ve mentioned before, my sister is much more of a caretaker than I am or ever will be, I had always expected to stick around and take care of my parents. Or maybe just hide behind them because of my fears and anxieties about living on my own…
In any case, I feel suddenly optimistic about this new adventure. Sure, there are days when I want to strangle my boyfriend because he can be HORRIBLE at taking advice. There are even days when I want to give up altogether and say that I am not moving out regardless of his decisions about housing. Then, after a few minutes of talking to him, I realize that there is nothing that I want more in my life than moving out. Granted, I don’t need to move this very second or even in the next year, but I cannot imagine a better “next chapter” for my life than this one.
As I sit here writing, I am realizing how much this truly means to me. I never took into account how much of a change I have made in my life or my perspectives. Going from an anxiety-ridden teenager who wanted to be a homebody forever to this outgoing, hardworking, driven, and happy adult is like having a makeover that my subconscious has created all on its own.
I realize now how blessed I am to have the family and friends that I do. Even my students help to lift me up (at times) and can make such a huge difference in my attitude. I can never thank any of those people enough, but I also realize how much work I have taken on and accomplished inside. After all, there may be only so much a person can do without help, but there is nothing that a person can do with help unless they first choose to help themselves.