What a difference a year can make.
This entry has been brewing in my head for a while now, and I'm hoping that getting it out while do something to help. It all started when I was looking through some of my journal entries.
A year ago, I was still enrolled at UNH, working my way through a combined history and education courseload. A year ago, I was looking ahead to see the details of my graduation ceremony. A year ago, I had weekend bonfires to look forward to.
That isn't to say that there weren't bad times a year ago. God knows there certainly were. For the first, I was without a mode of transportation, and had to rely on my friends to get around. There was also the stress of student teaching (more specifically, the ass-long trip there and back more than the time itself). Of course there were assorted other problems as well. But at the moment? I can't help but feel that I was in a better place, then.
My stint at the MSPCA ends this upcoming Monday, and there's still no sign of a new job on the horizon. Not even any responses to speak of for all my looking. I'm disappointed, because the MSPCA has been the best job I've ever had. Between the work, the animals and my co-workers, something clicked for me there. If it had been more hours a week, I think it just might have been perfect.
I've been trying hard not to let myself go to a dark place, but recently it's become harder and harder. Between anxiety about my job or lack thereof, the loans I have looming overhead, my growing need for housing somewhere other than with my family and other things, I'm finding I have less and less energy for dealing with even the people I love. I get tired earlier and earlier, and sleep for longer. I don't get hungry as much as usual even. And it scares me, because I remember when I was like this before. Even the panic attacks are starting to worm their way back. God, there's something I never wanted to see again, thanks much.
And then there's the loneliness. Granted, most of it is of my own creation in one way or another, but it doesn't stop it from hurting like it does. I don't usually go in much for talking about how I'm feeling, but I think this might serve as kind of a pressure release. I worry sometimes that all the chances for real happiness in life have passed me by, mostly through my own inaction or inability to reach for them. I've been on the odd date or two in the last few months, if they could even be called that. Mostly going to see a movie, grabbing a snack afterwards and a smile when the night is over. Not particularly stimulating or even satisfying. There are times when I suspect that I'm just not going to find that spark with someone new. Realistically, I have a whole lot more pressing things to worry about (Who cares about your lonely soul, we strive towards a larger goal! Sorry, Les Mis just came to mind.), but being able to survive doesn't necessarily equate to living.
There are some bright spots, thankfully. There's a chance I could move into an apartment with some friends during the summer. But that depends on getting a job to pay for rent. And then there's the possibility of camping and hiking this summer as well. It's been too long since I got to do any of that.
I guess it all comes down to nostalgia. I just have this feeling that the past may have been the best times of my life. I don't want that to be true at all. But honestly, the best times I've had in my life have been while I was at UNH. It was the first place I really felt at home, and it's where I met quite a few of my friends. One night a week in Derry with my oldest friends gave me all I needed of the place. Durham just felt like home.
I don't know why, but Crowing, by Toad the Wet Sprocket has been the song going through my head of late, and its' been playing while I wrote this. I guess it just kind of fits my mood.
A year ago, I was still enrolled at UNH, working my way through a combined history and education courseload. A year ago, I was looking ahead to see the details of my graduation ceremony. A year ago, I had weekend bonfires to look forward to.
That isn't to say that there weren't bad times a year ago. God knows there certainly were. For the first, I was without a mode of transportation, and had to rely on my friends to get around. There was also the stress of student teaching (more specifically, the ass-long trip there and back more than the time itself). Of course there were assorted other problems as well. But at the moment? I can't help but feel that I was in a better place, then.
My stint at the MSPCA ends this upcoming Monday, and there's still no sign of a new job on the horizon. Not even any responses to speak of for all my looking. I'm disappointed, because the MSPCA has been the best job I've ever had. Between the work, the animals and my co-workers, something clicked for me there. If it had been more hours a week, I think it just might have been perfect.
I've been trying hard not to let myself go to a dark place, but recently it's become harder and harder. Between anxiety about my job or lack thereof, the loans I have looming overhead, my growing need for housing somewhere other than with my family and other things, I'm finding I have less and less energy for dealing with even the people I love. I get tired earlier and earlier, and sleep for longer. I don't get hungry as much as usual even. And it scares me, because I remember when I was like this before. Even the panic attacks are starting to worm their way back. God, there's something I never wanted to see again, thanks much.
And then there's the loneliness. Granted, most of it is of my own creation in one way or another, but it doesn't stop it from hurting like it does. I don't usually go in much for talking about how I'm feeling, but I think this might serve as kind of a pressure release. I worry sometimes that all the chances for real happiness in life have passed me by, mostly through my own inaction or inability to reach for them. I've been on the odd date or two in the last few months, if they could even be called that. Mostly going to see a movie, grabbing a snack afterwards and a smile when the night is over. Not particularly stimulating or even satisfying. There are times when I suspect that I'm just not going to find that spark with someone new. Realistically, I have a whole lot more pressing things to worry about (Who cares about your lonely soul, we strive towards a larger goal! Sorry, Les Mis just came to mind.), but being able to survive doesn't necessarily equate to living.
There are some bright spots, thankfully. There's a chance I could move into an apartment with some friends during the summer. But that depends on getting a job to pay for rent. And then there's the possibility of camping and hiking this summer as well. It's been too long since I got to do any of that.
I guess it all comes down to nostalgia. I just have this feeling that the past may have been the best times of my life. I don't want that to be true at all. But honestly, the best times I've had in my life have been while I was at UNH. It was the first place I really felt at home, and it's where I met quite a few of my friends. One night a week in Derry with my oldest friends gave me all I needed of the place. Durham just felt like home.
I don't know why, but Crowing, by Toad the Wet Sprocket has been the song going through my head of late, and its' been playing while I wrote this. I guess it just kind of fits my mood.