Thought purge
July 3rd, 2009It’s been on the tip of my tongue for a couple of weeks now. But my mind has been non-stop and when it is constantly going I become apprehensive to unleash it in any variety of out-loud format. Because it’s too much intensity and for some reason I prefer to contain that in my head. I am volatile and reactive and (thank god) I’ve finally learned that sometimes I need the fog to lift and the clouds to clear before I allow myself to vocalize my feelings.
Everything up through May was comfortable. Very comfortable, smooth sailing, walk in the park. For the first time (probably in my entire life) I really felt like I was fully in control. And no challenges came up, it was all laid out perfectly. Then my living situation got a little fucked and I realized it was time to leave my apartment. That meant finding a new place which, having my dog and my neighborhood limitations and non-closet standards, is difficult. New apartments also mean coming up with a security deposit and another month’s rent, and dealing with shady landlords who don’t want to give me my current deposit back. Let the challenges begin.
I spent a while being stressed. Stressed about finding a place that I like, in an area I like. And giving up my old Albion gem was difficult because it was a place I went into on my own when I first got into the city and I really made it home. I found great roommates and kept it clean and cute and welcoming. And unfortunately the whole great vibe we had going changed drastically in January when our latest roommate moved in but, still, it was a place I was proud of. And it had a sick backyard that provided a perfect location for dance parties and keg stands and summer days of lounging and a craddle for friendship and talks and drunken make-outs.
But Katie and I found a great apartment. And it’s still in the Mission and it’s still close to BART and it’s even closer to my cousins’ house. It’s an upgrade from Albion because my street no longer smells like a toilet. And I haven’t spotted a single person sleeping on my doorstep. Not to mention Delirium is not next door so I don’t have to deal with loud degenerates. The stress of finding a place disappeared so it was reduced to worries of coming up with the money for the maximum legal security deposit (two times rent, thanks) and worries of whether the landlord would approve us to move in. As soon as he approved us, it was shaved down to one. Deposit.
That’s when I stopped throwing myself a pity party. If my biggest worries are financial, I have nothing to worry about. Not only do I have one great job, I have two. I have a roof over my head and I’m a resourceful wheeling and dealing craigslist freelance furniture trader. I can and did make it work. I’m broke as shit but I’m in my new place and I’m living with one of my best friends and I couldnt’ be happier.
Yes, the fog has lifted and I’m glad I waited to react to it in the first place. Because I was pissed that I had challenges thrown my way. I felt wronged somehow, like I didn’t deserve to deal with that shit. I am fucking 23 years old. If I’m hoping the struggles are over, I’m in for a bitter surprise. And a lot of boredom. I don’t know when the subtle changes occurred, which often times go unnoticed when there’s a misty blanket clouding my perspective and only become clear when I can see clearly again, but I stopped seeking out challenges. That’s what makes me tick. That’s what makes me feel empowered. Isolating difficulties and conquering them and owning them; growing and learning.
So I’m glad I kept my mouth shut and had a private pity party of one. Because had I shared it, it probably would’ve dragged out and been exagerrated. Now I’ve been reacquainted to my love for adventures and new obstacles. I’ll overcome that business. I always do. Life’s going to throw me more curveballs and who knows how much worse they’ll be. No big deal, it all works out in the end.




