Why You Should Take Life Into Your Own Hands

There are cycles of life that we all go through. You ride the highs, and fumble underwater trying to get a grip on anything to push you to the surface during the lows. The ebb and the flow, the up and the down. And unfortunately, these cycles are completely unpredictable. Sometimes, we can gauge a timeline. For me, I found myself having to start taking mood stabilizers every time I moved to a new place. I’d stay on them for about a year, and then wean myself off. I would be good and manageable with the natural tools that I had–picked up from strict therapy practices. Moving time would come up and I was in the same place. On one hand, I would be so excited to move, to start a new chapter, to get out of my old situation, to get rid of the things that I hadn’t touched for a whole lease period, shed some skin. And on the other hand, I would be so incredibly stressed about uprooting myself and having to figure everything out all over again. I am a creature of habit so big changes, like not being able to call the home that I called home for the past two years would always send me into a spiral. This leads me to where I am now.

Let’s go back to the beginning of the year:  January. Sweet and new and beautiful. I had an intimate dinner gathering with my friends in the city I was living in, and I looked at all of them, not knowing when things would be this way again. Sure, we can travel and take time off from our jobs and run around the country to see each other, meet up in our hometowns on holidays, but in this city, in this house where my lease would expire at the end of March, this was the last time. I felt relieved about getting to leave that house. I loved the house, but living there toward the end was taking its toll on my mental, creative, and spiritual health.

There were things that I didn’t like about the house, like the mysterious noises that would always seem to happen when I was alone at night, or the best-friend-turned-obnoxious-roommate that I had signed the original lease with. I loved that guy, and I will never say that the stigma around living with friends is right, however, in this situation, it burned the bridge of our friendship. So there was a general air of discomfort in the house. On top of that, I knew I wanted to get out of the city. I’d lived there for almost six years, and I had built a community. I had my special secret pick-me-up places that I would frequent alone to clear my head and they were my secret gardens around the city. I rarely took anyone there so as to not taint the place should my human relationships sour. At least my brick and mortar coffee shop would be untouched and readily available. I went through heartbreak, growth, rehabilitation, all in this one city. And the whole time? I had one job. There were a few times when I’d pick up some side gigs, grinding to get a little extra cash and switch up from the monotony of my regular day job. One thing I got from the house was that I was completely unsatisfied with the stability of my job. Yes, I like having health insurance and security, but I was still struggling the way everyone who wasn’t in my line of work was. I was still trapped. I had asked for everything I wanted from my job, and it wasn’t enough. You’re probably wondering at this point, “What did you do for work?” I worked as a designer at an engineering firm. I love math. I love numbers. I’m a freak in the (Microsoft Excel) sheets. I studied water movement and designed based on that. It is interesting to some, and by some I mean the other nerds and myself. And to others, it isn’t given a second thought. In my line of work, I was always fascinated by the amount of people who just thought that things just were, for lack of a better word. I had been at my job for a year or so overdue, ready and eager to quit because I couldn’t stand sitting still anymore. And while there was some fulfillment, feeling like the smartest person on the team when I solved a problem, handled what needed to be handled, or getting a raise and having financial support for my REAL passions, there was this gnawing feeling within me. I am not meant for this. I am meant for something greater. Something different. Something that doesn’t feel like the “safe option”. I have always felt that way, and if you’re reading this, I am sure that you have felt the familiar likes of this too.

So, after January when the excitement of the new year came and went, I started to get caught up in the ebb and flow again. Everything became overwhelming. I went on two trips out of town at the end of January and beginning of February, and when I came back from the second one, I knew I could not stand this any longer. I sat down with myself, and to be completely vulnerable, I wrote a letter of love to those who loved me because I had no clue of how I was going to dig myself out of this hole. I had no plan and no idea what I would do next, but I knew that I couldn’t sit still anymore. I cried for a week before I reached out to someone I loved deeply for help. They did help me. And three days later, I was so back–on my mood stabilizers! From there, everything felt balanced again. I was able to think clearly and continue to be strong and upheld standards for myself. I kept going to the gym, taking the dog for runs, working on my passion projects, and showing up for work on time every day, from 7 A.M. to 4 P.M. I didn’t mention this earlier, but every time things would get uprooted, the only consistent thing I had was my job. It was always there, everyday, Monday to Friday, from 7 A.M. to 4 P.M., and the rain still fell and the water still had to be studied and the problems still needed to be solved and I didn’t have to think about anything real, just had to think about math and equations and water. But there was that gnawing feeling again, and this time it was different. This time I couldn’t just move forward, get over it, hold on to this consistency. That was the problem. That is what kept me here in the first place. This job stifled me. I lost part of my identity because I had given it to my work. Inside this career and this city, I found parts of myself missing. Perhaps they were not hidden, but so deeply embedded within me that the light would not shine on them anymore. And honestly, that was the root of my issue. I was afraid. I sat down over and over and asked myself what my greatest fear was if I quit my  cushy little job. I am fortunate enough that if I quit my job, I would have savings to pay off my car, make the minimum payments on my student loans, and even take a small trip somewhere. I could even afford a small medical issue if it came down to it. I am fortunate enough that if I burned through my savings, and had to move home, my family would allow me to live in their house. So I wasn’t afraid of losing everything. What I was afraid of though, was losing my independence. I have worked so hard to establish my independence, my security, and to be able to buy what I wanted to eat at Sprouts. I didn’t think about the latter too frequently, because I was thinking, I can quit my job, and I can find a new one. So, I started browsing, similar career fields, different places, shooting my shot. Nothing. Dry. And where they did want me, was in the same place, doing the same thing that I had sold my soul to for the past six years! I got burned out receiving interviews, offers, and to me, what felt like empty promises. I’m sure they’re great companies, and most of the time, they sounded more appealing than the company I was working for at the time. But I knew that I would be letting myself down if I just accepted the same role, with a different logo on the office building. I didn’t want that. And somehow, that felt worse than living with Mom again. 

March rolled around, slowly and comforting, and I moved out of the house and I had received the key to unlock the ball and chain shackled around one of my ankles. I was running around, I was free, I was out of the city! Still, my movement was slow and diluted by the OTHER ball and chain. Fortunately, I have two feet, however, one felt cemented right in place because I still had The Job. At this point, it might sound like I was just creating my own problems. Just quit, travel, go live with Mom. Easy enough, but again, let me remind you. The job market is completely screwed out there. AI is taking the place of a real person seeing your resume and cover letters that you spend so much effort writing, for those of you who still write them. No judgement if you use chat, but I am side-eyeing. One day at work they laid off thirteen employees due to the slow-down of the market, and I was not one of them. I was grateful I was still going to have the consistent paycheck, and also kicking rocks because WHY did I have to take the plunge and quit the job myself? Could the universe not just give me a swift kick in the ass to get me up and moving? No. I had to take matters into my own hands. What makes me special? Right, just get on with it. I had the audacity.