It is fitting that I make this post a bit more lengthly, as it is my 13th post on this blog, meaning, it is the 13th day of July. I was born on 4/13, at 4:13 in the afternoon. So while most people refer to 13 as the unlucky number, for me, it is lucky.
Or, perhaps I just act like it is a good day, rather than focusing on bad things. Maybe that’s all bad luck is, focusing on the negative rather than the positive?
I’ve been trying to focus on content with these daily blog posts, keeping them concise and neat. The truth is, it’s hard for me. Two years ago, I could write pages and pages of poems and stories. I could write all of my thoughts and read them over days later and feel all the emotion behind them. Today, I can barely get a paragraph out without sputtering and giving up.
I think it happened when I started dating my fiancé. We were long distance, and I didn’t really have time to write. Everything that I did write, ended up being focused on him, especially because at the time things were not good with us. I would write pages to him that I would delete or throw away. I would write poems that no one will ever see. Then one day, I just gave up. I felt like all the things I wrote about didn’t matter, that they wouldn’t change anything. I didn’t feel cathartic release, I did not feel better, so why bother? So I threw away a lot of my poetry books. I stopped writing, almost entirely. I have never found a way back to the place I was before, and it seems to have gotten worse over time.
With my last job, I constantly felt too tired to do anything. I had no time to do what I wanted, to see my fiancé, or to even think about plans. I also felt very isolated and beaten down by that job, so I started to loathe myself again. As my eating disorder worsened, and as my mentality grew more painful, I knew I needed to quit. I was becoming toxic to myself. For a long time I tried to just be better, to suggest quick fixes, and to suck it up, but nothing worked.
I am still sick from that experience, and healing is much slower than I thought. I have never worked in such a cruel environment – a corporation based on lies and fake promises. Never had I felt worse about my field (psychology), or my own mental health. A job is supposed to empower you, it is not supposed to kill you.
Then today, on this unlucky/lucky day, I was asked to go to orientation for a new job offer. I am not saying that a new job will necessarily be better, or that it will make me happier (because I don’t know yet), but I can say that my experience today made me feel so much more powerful and happy. I felt great, I felt unafraid, and I felt comfortable thinking about my future. With hours that I can choose, I will have more time to focus on what I really want (school, modeling, and blogging/writing).
I want to get back to the place I was at before, where writing didn’t cripple me so much. Even now writing this post, I am filled with anxiety that shushes all of the positive thoughts I want to let escape me. How do I get there? Help me, fellow bloggers.
On this lucky day, I’m trying to focus on the positive. I’m writing this, and I’m feeling good about this post. I messaged a few people for makeup jobs, and I’m excited to start this new job as soon as possible. I’m looking forward to a blissful weekend, and I hope you all are, too.
I hope your day was filled with luck.