And so it begins....

My first few days in New York has been hard.  Which isn't surprising, I just wish I had prepared better for it. 

I'm struggling financially already: I didn't get paid for a week of work last month, and which was also supposed to include a pretty large reimbursement, so I had to use my entire savings for rent this month, all which of course has made eating quite a challenge in the meantime. 

And typically, I try to keep enough in my savings for an extra month of rent, as I have no fall backs if I don't happen to get paid enough before then.  So even though I have some time to figure it out before October, I'm still in a constant state of worry about how to make ends meet. 

And I hate feeling this poor. It reminds me of times of college, only back then I had financial aid and food stamps come to my rescue.  And I don't have them now. 

I also managed to break my watch, which of course I can't afford to repair.

And I bought it initially to feel like I could have nice things. As a reminder that I'm still lucky, and that things are better than they were and will continue to prove. 

And yet after a day of eating nothing but a granola bar I've been holding onto for three weeks and being told I should've paid for insurance.... I'm not feeling too lucky. (And the only reason I isn't buy it initially was because I couldn't afford it back then.....not because I was feeling daring or lazy.)

I just feel like I'm always going to be poor. That I might be able to occasionally buy something nice but never its replacement. That I'm always going to be on that edge of trying to keep up but venturing without safety net, always risking real death if I happen to fall. 

And every day I'm going to be surrounded by people who have more and can do more and I'm going to keep wishing I could keep up. 

I miss living around other poor people.  Which is sort of like wishing I had more friends who were sad. Though it is of course nice to be surrounded by those who empathize, I could become complacent in the sadness and never seek happiness. If I surrounded myself with those who gave up on art, I, too,  might give up on trying.  If I only know those angry they don't have one, I may lose my own sense of gratitude. 

And if I become someone who only complains, I'll might lose my sense of hope.  

My goal in life is to change the world with art.  And that involves knowing the ups and downs, and learning how to help myself pick up the pieces when things get tough. So, I suppose this is what I came here for... I just look forward to it getting easier.  I want to one day know what it is to not just leave struggle behind, but be able to take a risk without gambling my drive all  to no longer fear taking a risk that doesn't involve gambling my survival.

Headed Towards Happiness

          So I’m finally, finally back at work!  And I’m so happy.  Making money means I’ll be able to ask for less from those around me.

          In the last four months, I’ve relied on others more than I have in my entire life.  A new friend recently asked if I’m looking for a knight to come into my life to slay all of my problems; and I immediately responded that I can conquer them all on my own.

          I may have been physically weak the last few months, needing a shoulder to help me up a flight of stairs, or friends to help me to doctor appointments or grocery stores, but I never stopped being me.  The me that remembers stepping on a bus and leaving my abusive environment without knowing where to sleep the next night.  The me that traveled to a different country without knowing the language or a single person there.  The me that worked four jobs while being a full-time student at a prestigious university.  So yes, I had a partner before, but I never relied on him to fight my demons on my behalf.  

          I’m grateful, of course, for those that have helped me and given me strength, but I would have needed a hell of a lot more if I expected someone to do my healing for me.  I have fought fiercely and tenaciously every day, to get out of bed and move forward with my life.  Once you decide that you are sick, it exponentially affects the time you need to heal.  I have been sick, hospitalized, fatigued beyond imagination, even in agony from pain: but I never let my disease win.  My mantra in my adult life has been not to let my circumstances limit me.    Yes, the can change the quality of the road ahead; while some may have a smoothly paved path, I have potholes and, well, basically rocks being chucked at me as I move ahead, but I’m always moving forward.  Always.

          And now that I am back at work, I’ll be able to move forward at faster pace.  Plus I’m very close to healing not needing to be my first priority.  Instead, I am really interested in learning to be as happy as possible with this path that I am on; potholes and rocks included.  I’ll keep you posted on how I learn to create the happier days ahead.

           I’m still going to need people in my life, but only to love, not for favors.  I am in control again.

(a photo from a happier day, reminding me of the ones ahead)