I thought that after sharing my "me too" post, some massive healing would take place. I mean, logically I knew it would only be a start, but part of me also thought that with the eclipse taking place, I would be doing so at just the right time.
I can not put to words how thankful I am for the messages I have received. I think, because it took me so long to write, that it surprised me enough that so many people thoroughly read it. I had so many reasons to smile this weekend. I feel like a part of me opened up, and here I am just days later writing another post just like I used to do. Maybe I'm finding myself again?
For these past few nights I have been absorbed in an empath overwhelm. It is this sadness I can not put words to, and it hits me right before I fall asleep. I am honestly frustrated about it. Why am I so sad? I've been doing everything to take care of myself. I have been surrounding myself with people who love me, such great friends. I have been going to yoga classes again, and I started watching the tv series "Parenthood" on Netflix (who's seen it?) because it makes me feel good.
I close my laptop and ask myself why I feel so sad, so numb. I have to remind myself that I probably just need a break, or a change of scenery.
This brought me back to the keyboard today.
I feel a loss since I quit my job. It was unfortunate that I had to, but I know it needed to be done. It was not worth it for me to stay. I don't think it is "the" job that I miss. I miss having a job. More accurately, a life outside school. City living is great, but sometimes I isolate myself on my small campus and going to work was my weekly escape. It was the little things that made me happy. I miss the coworkers that would give me high-fives and would be excited to see me come in. Do they wonder where I went? I miss the customers that would start a conversation with me, and bring out the most personable side of me. I didn't do anything crazy, I was only a hostess. I handed out menus, and walked people to their tables for the most part. It's weird though, because even a customer smiling at me or saying a simple "thank you" gave me this boost of happiness and confidence with my job. I stood so much taller. My introverted self could return to campus at night and feel accomplished that I left my shell just fine that day. I developed a routine with my job, and I had planned on staying there for the rest of my college career. When the incident occurred, I just had no idea how much things would change.
The loss I feel is only temporary. It's a good loss, too. I remember how work made me feel about myself and I look forward to feeling that again. I applied to about 5 other restaurants in the meantime. It has been a few weeks and I haven't gotten a call. John had said, "Good things come when you are not looking too hard. Enjoy and concentrate on school. The rest will happen."
For now, that is what I'm doing.
I continue to learn more about myself through every chapter of my story. Lately, I have been playing detective while trying to figure out where this week's sadness is coming from. Is it my thyroid? Is this the time I get my seasonal depression? Is it the damn eclipse? Is this just these past few months catching up with me? Instead of figuring out why I am sad, an easier question is to ask myself what I need to feel better.
I don't just need a part-time job, or a city outing, I think it's more than that! The way my job made me feel is the way my blog can make me feel. I feel happiness when I give back.
Instead of curling up in a ball on my bed and wiping my tears and procrastinating on homework, I started looking for organizations in the area to volunteer my time.
I'm sure I can get sad on my small campus, where my life seems to be sleep, eat, class, friends, homework, Netflix, repeat. I feel very lost when I am not doing something meaningful with my time. I feel like I should be doing something more. I am in this rut where I like my classes, but it feels like I'm just watching time pass and wait until I get that degree to do something that makes me truly happy.
I applied to volunteer at a women's shelter in the meantime. Just submitting the application felt right. I felt less stuck.
I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. Except, these days I am starting to dislike those exact words. I am a believer that we can learn something from everything. A new path, a scary path, or a bump in the road (more like an earthquake) seems to always know what it's doing. It seems to know we will be ok. I don't know how, or what that means in my case, I am just trusting it.
A Boston social work student, using writing for healing. Sharing the peaks and valleys of an empath's mental health journey.