Tuesday, September 17, 2013

So many hipsters...

My life has been a whirlwind of "are you ok?" lately. And there is no easy answer to that question.

Yes, I am physically fine. Emotionally I am better than I thought I would be.

However, everything that could possibly go wrong has gone wrong and I am somehow still surviving.

Two days before I officially moved out (I was staying at a friends) I had to commit my friend to the psych ward at Ohio State. He was depressed, drunk and suicidal. It was the hardest thing I have ever done. I spent 12 hours in the emergency room watching him sober up, try to escape (they immediately put him on a 72 hour hold, so he couldn't leave), get sedated, cry, laugh, cry some more. If you have never seen someone hit rock bottom, count yourself lucky. It is the hardest thing I have ever watched. And it changed me. It changed how I view alcohol and depression. He is going through a divorce, moving from a house to a tiny shit hole apartment. Our lives are mirroring each other right now and I will fully admit that I have drowned my sadness in alcohol quite a few times since this all happened. I am now hyper aware of how many beers I drank, how many shots I did at the bar, how many glasses of wine. It is not out of the realm of possibility that my life could have headed down a similar path.

Then I moved. And am still surrounded by boxes because I have a house amount of shit and a one bedroom apartment. That is a complete shit hole. I am basically renting from slum lords who can't even paint the place. The door at the top of the stairs was kicked in and the dead bolt doesn't work. Let's just say my father is less than thrilled with my new digs.

But I'm on a busy street with restaurants and bars and constant traffic. I feel very safe. I know every single neighbor and we sit out on the front stoop at night and drink beers and laugh at the hipsters. Because, yes, I now live in that neighborhood that isn't cool yet. So, the hipsters are EVERYWHERE. ON UNICYCLES. WITH IRONIC BEARDS.

Last Friday, the general manager (the friend who asked me to come work down there) unexpectedly quit. And my nemesis took over. I expressed to the owner repeatedly that I would not work for him and he made me promise to give him time. My old job called today and offered me a job. Just a line cook position, but it is 3 blocks away. And the little cafe on the corner is hiring part time day help, so I may be making some more changes. Because, you know, fuck it. Change everything at once.

I have a very different attitude. I have done a lot of soul searching, got back into old habits of being single. Allowing myself to feel what I need to feel, do what I need to do. There is no longer guilt for lying in bed all day because I am just sad and need to lie in bed all day. I spend a lot of time outside walking Short Dog. Obviously, my second story shit hole doesn't have a yard. But I need to get out and see people. Just say hi to someone on the sidewalk. The last time I lived alone, I was in the suburbs and never left the house. It got dark there for a while and after seeing what my friend is going through, I know I can't let myself get there. I can't let myself wallow in my own misery. So, when I feel sad and overwhelmed, I leash him up and just wander around. The neighborhood is full of old, historic homes so there is never a lack of scenery. And it's fun to explore a new neighborhood.

I am listening to happy music, watching happy movies and concentrating on being happy. It is so easy for me to fall down that emo trap and to feel sorry for myself and I refuse to do it. This is my reality right now. I can choose to live it and love it or I can choose to be miserable. I choose love. I choose happy. Sitting and dwelling on what I lost and what everyone else has that I don't isn't going to help anyone. I am doing me now.