A year ago, I was happy. I was the happiest I had been in a long time. My last couple years of college were really tough on me, especially my senior year. School was fine, it was my time in ROTC that was bad. It led to me having daily panic attacks. I dreaded going to anything ROTC related - I hated PT, I hated class, I hated lab. During the times I was there, my body would fill with panic and I just shut off. People started to think I was naturally just a quiet person who kept to themselves. Most of my classmates didn't like me. It was a bad bad time.
Then, after being apart from Brandon for five months, I finished my last final of university - I was done! I was medically boarded out of my commitment to the Army because of my feet problems - that was done. So the day after my last final (I never went to my official graduation), I hopped into my car with my little sister and drove all the way to Georgia from Colorado. It took us two days. And I finally felt free.
I was riding that happiness-high for at least half a year. I had no school or work obligations. I did what I wanted, I spent all the time I could with my husband, I played tennis, I worked out on post at Fort Benning, I made friends. Then moving to Hawaii, I didn't have any friends at first, but that was ok. I had my husband, I had my house to take care of, and a new puppy and kitty. I was loving it.
That senior-year feeling is creeping back.
I've had it before college, I'm just predisposed to depression. I don't like it, I would do anything I could to get rid of it. I've learned to deal pretty well, but mostly I just push it away. Right now, though, I feel depressed. My chest feels heavy and I feel like crying. I'm not sure exactly what triggered it, but it could be a combination of things. It's not even Brandon being gone, I would feel like this if he were here. I just feel lost.
What am I supposed to do with myself? I don't feel confident in my writing, and yeah I get plenty of encouragement, but I know it's not the best. I want to become a freelance writer but I can't get myself to do it. Why not? I always have plenty of good ideas but I never go through with them. And then work - oh wonderful work - I just don't have my heart in it. I have this job to have a job. What's the point of that? What happens if in 20 years I realize I haven't even done anything? We all grow up thinking we can achieve anything, but we don't realize the hard work it entails most of the time. Can I ever be satisfied?
I'd like that happy, carefree, feeling back. I don't know how to, though. There's so much more I wish I could write, but I can't get my mind straight... plus, it would be a super long post. I think maybe I'll go have a bath and try to sleep my troubles away. Tomorrow's a new day, right?