I have been trying to find the right time to write this post. Every time I sat down to try and start this story I’d get in my head too much and ended up procrastinating. Okay weird I am sitting in this coffee shop and Fleetwood Mac came on just now. I am not sure why but anytime I go somewhere and Fleetwood plays I feel peace flow throughout my entire body. Just feels right to be here.
This year something changed in me. I cannot say exactly when, but when I look at myself today compared to who I was just this past November, it is pretty astonishing.
This fall I was taking classes at the community college in my hometown. I was a full time student and would work anywhere between four or five days a week. It was exhausting. For the most part the work load was manageable, but the routine of it all was a lot.
Everyday: school, homework, work, more homework. Most days I never got a chance to stop at home in between to catch a breath. When I wasn’t working, I’d end up doing absolutely nothing and became so lazy. I hated it so much.
At the end of the fall, I decided I was not going to go back to school the following semester. A lot of that was because of the tedious schedule, but also because I did not know what I wanted to do at school.
One thing I know I’ve always wanted to do is travel. All over. In November I started researching study abroad programs. What better way to travel right? I applied to an art program that was held in Greece. I chose that one because I am greek and the experience sounded pretty dope. It was for three months; starting in March and ending in June. I got accepted into the program and was so ready to get out of America.
I picked my classes and was in the mindset that I was going. But then some things got weird… Tuition was an insane amount of money. At first I thought it was okay, but I started reading into it more. The school was small and did not apply their students with any art supplies or food. In the information they said that students typically spend one hundred euros a week on food. A WEEK. For three months straight? I wouldn’t be able to survive. The guy running the program was not helpful at all and the entire thing just seemed sketchy to me.
My mom sat me down and I had a really hard time accepting the fact that I was not able to go. I did not understand how unrealistic the situation was at first. I just wanted it to work so badly.
This all went down the day before classes at my college had started. I had a mental breakdown. I knew there was no way I’d make myself take random classes that were open that I would stress out over. My dream was taken away from me in a matter of minutes. Two months of planning just out the window.
That day was definitely one of my lowest points. I’ve never felt so still in time. It physically hurt to move, to breathe even. That day I stayed in bed for hours, just looking at the ceiling. I think the biggest part as to why I felt so strongly was I viewed that opportunity as my one chance to break free. To essentially discover myself. At that point in time I had zero confidence. No idea what I was doing with my life. That was supposed to be the answer to all of my problems. But fleeing the country will not solve anything. I just realized that I wanted to run away from my own life.
It fucking sucked to say the least. But then something beautiful happened…
I actually found time to think for myself. I started doing things on my own. Going in the city, eating at restaurants, chilling at coffee shops. I was anywhere and everywhere. I picked up my journal that I used to be scared to touch. Finally got myself to get back into writing.
I never frequently wrote, but I always loved to. In school papers were my specialty. When I was in elementary school and middle school I always tore up my diary of course.
But anyways, when I started to write everything just clicked for me. It was the best way I personally felt I could express myself. That is the first step on your journey to yourself… Finding your creative outlet.
Before any of this happened, I had no passions, goals, nothing. I told myself it would all work itself out, but there comes a point when you need to push yourself. You have to take that first step. Make yourself uncomfortable, try new things. What if an opportunity that is supposed to be your calling comes your way? What if you stop yourself from taking it? Then what?
Obviously no one is perfect. We get scared. But why should we be? Once I saw this quote that said something like “We are scared the most of things that will set us free.” Which is so sadly true.
For me, starting this blog was my first step to self discovery.