I found myself sifting through my past blog posts today during downtime at work. I was humiliated to realize that it has been almost a year since I last wrote about anything. First, I'm not sure how August of 2014 suddenly became June of 2015. Second, my leave of absence stems from a combination of an utter lack of inspiration and a huge bout of writer's block. Those might be the same thing, but I'll classify them as two different things in this case.
Inspiration left me high and dry in about October. By then I was already living and going to school in New York, the one place I was excited to write about. New York is an exciting and inspirational city, writers have been going on about its better and worst qualities since its conception. After I arrived, I had once again left my comfort zone and thrust myself into something new and exciting, and if anyone knows me at all, you'll know that I thrive in places that are fast paced, different, and initially uncomfortable. Something about my new environment sucked the inspiration and passion for writing that I once held so dear right out of my life. I would sit down and try to and write something, anything, Nothing came to me. My routine went something like this: think about a topic, sit down, start typing, become disgusted with my work, deem myself unable to continue, and shut the laptop. It was a cycle, nothing I wrote felt right. Everything seemed fake and unrealistic. Needless to say, to feel like I lost my talent was to feel like I lost a dear friend. I gave up on it, going as far as to allow my blog's account to become disabled. I didn't even flinch when I received the email, the departure of my writer's inspiration had plunged me into indifference. jklkj
I'll blame passion's departure on a few factors; The main entities include stress, school, and lack of time. Stress and school naturally go hand in hand though they also act independently. New York City is stressful as hell. You are always rushing, always around people, always trying to get somewhere, and always trying to do something. Got a late start to where you're going? Stress. Train isn't running? Stress. It's raining? Stress. Can't get a cab? Stress. A million slow-walking people in your way? Stress. The city never sits still, therefore neither do its inhabitants. As someone who really relishes in their downtime, the adjustment was a difficult one. That doesn't go to say that I haven't adapted, I absolutely adore my new home and have never felt more comfortable than I do here. Aside from the basic stresses of city life, school really messed with my writing and brainstorming processes. While I love to write, school writing is usually purely academic. Unfortunately for me, my major and core curriculum don't often allow me the opportunity to write creatively. To go from wide open writing spaces to a structured and specific style really effected the way I looked at writing. Because I was expected to write in such a specific way, I became accustomed to formal academic writing and wasn't able to focus on my own style. Also, college is hard and when do you really have time to sit down and do something for yourself once and a while? Never.
Now that I've somewhat explained my leave of absence, I can now explain my life in its present state:
I am - at least I think I am - thriving. I ended school in early May with some bad-ass grades. I mean, they weren't straight A's but they were waaay up from first semester. I'm spending my summer in New York working as a receptionist full time. I recently went home for a short time and felt a strange and unexpected longing for the city. I came to the realization that New York is where I feel most like myself, therefore allowing me to call New York my home. I pay rent to live here, and I call it "home" now even when I'm back at my parent's house. For most people my age, home still is their parents house. Having the parent's house as home is something I moved on from long ago, it was a blunt reminder of how I no longer feel comfortable where I was raised.
Even though I'm enjoying work and making some money that I can save to travel, I feel like it might slightly be sucking my soul out of my body. It pays well and it's something to do, I find that I'm having a rough time getting used to some of the people as they get used to me. I think it will get better. It's still only my first week on the job and I have to allow myself some time to adjust. On the topic of adjustment, I have not felt the effects of depression in months. As far as I can tell, I'm free of that painful, icy, gripping feeling that once described so often in my entries. It feels good to be a normal, happy person again. There are on and off days, of course, but the sensation that I once feared has not bothered me in a long time, and if it has, it has been fleeting.
Not that every single person needs an update on my life, but it gives me great pleasure to share recent happenings with those who have been checking back to see if anything has happened here. I see you - I can check the traffic to this page, and it touches me that people actually take an interest in my musings. I'd like to make this post a formal apology to not only those who actually read my entries, but also an apology to my blog (I promised that I would keep it updated) and myself (I swore that I would write at least once a week for my own sanity). Today I turn over a new leaf and make a real promise to get back to what I once loved the most: writing.
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