Only The Curious

I’m a crappy blogger. Because, seriously? I can’t write regularly. Ever. Even when I’m biking the hell across Texas and have three posts a day worth of stuff going on and so why am I writing now when there’s nothing going on and I’m unemployed and homeless and sitting in the suburbs? I have so much to tell you. Everything changed.

So at some point I will write more about the ride. And at some point I will write about the massive disappointment that was me not getting an interview to be a guide with Trek, and how to deal with disappointment and moving on when your dreams don’t work out and what it feels like to bust ass and have to give up on your goals anyway because achieving them is beyond your control. And at some point I’ll write about the thousands of things that have gone through my head in the two weeks since I got the email that said I was qualified but “not a good fit.”At some point I will write about corporate culture, and the fact that it really is for the best, and how we build up idea of things that aren’t always realistic. At some point I will tell you about everything I have learned about myself and everything I have figured out and about the things I’m thinking about doing next.

I will write about all of that. At some point. Maybe when I stop having anxiety attacks while sitting in my parked car, maybe when I’m done laying in the middle of the street and sobbing. Which I hate to admit that I actually did in real life a few days ago, because it makes me sound pathetic and I normally pride myself on being one of those people who always wants to put on my strong face and never ever gives up and just tries harder and keeps trying harder until I win. That is something that I love about myself. I don’t quit. I don’t give up. And I hate to admit that sometimes I do, in fact, freak out, and cry, and spend entire days in my pajamas watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer because it’s the only thing that makes me feel okay.

But I want to be real here. And one of the best blogs I ever read was when my awesome fabulous friend Nicole (who I have never met for real but will next month in Vegas) wrote about dealing with her own depression and anxiety. Because as cliche as it sounds, it made me realize I’m not alone, and that a lot of my friends and peers are awesome on the outside and freaking the shit out on the inside. The quarterlife crisis cliche is real. And it’s not a one time thing. It happens over and over in your twenties. And most of us handle it well and go running and go drinking and blow off steam and keep moving forward. But sometimes the crazy comes out and you just need to sit in the street and cry, and save the profound thoughts for another day.

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