No Retreat, No Surrender

Well, it's been a "long" week. And it's caught up with me. As I sit here with my glass of red wine, listening to a mix of music I compiled over a year ago - I'm being still. Except for the striking of keys. I felt like it was time to write again. I quit one day job and am waiting to start a new one - which is equally stressful and exciting. Attempting to put myself in the best position I can to remain in Chicago became an evident need when I realized I was returning to life in the "safe rut." For those who don't know, the "safe rut" is what I do when I withdraw. A safety measure of sorts. I've been lucky in that I haven't returned to the food restriction rut that often goes along with withdrawing, which means I've reached a level of actual recovery. This makes me feel kind of proud. Scared, but proud. Letting go of past coping mechanisms is fucking intimidating. So is realizing you need to let some things go, even if that means losing part of a serrated exterior. I also need to return to actively improving myself. I started full force a year ago when I decided to move. I left my family, my friends - in an effort to support myself, to grow up, to fight on my own, to perform again. And I've been homesick, and homesick for the familiarity of having somewhere to crash and fail. I think we all need to have that place or person we can break in front of and throw our fists about and generally splash about in our discomfort. I haven't found that here. And that's been the most difficult part of leaving home. It's even made me consider going back. But I'm not ready to retreat. I think I just need to start being a bit more social, a bit more motivated, and a bit nicer to those who have shown me kindness. So as my lease draws to a close, I will find a new place in the city to reside. I will take my first year in the city as a year of "training," a year of letting go. Year two will find me feistier, but friendlier; motivated and focused - healthier and forgiveness-seeking. Cheers, y'all.