Iím feeling pensive. Last night I happened to flip through my journal, and I stumbled on something I wrote about two years ago. I didnít have a job. I didnít have a plan. I didnít have a clue. I was partying hard and not smart, hanging out with sketchy people I did not trust. People who lied to themselves as much as they lied to everyone around them. Doing a LOT of drugs. Nearly overdosed. Hardly slept. No hope, not sure, feeling down on myself, but nobody was the wiser. I never knew how bad it was until I looked back on it from where I am now.
I wrote to myself, ďI know things are about to get better. Iím going to get a job, and Iím going to be successful.Ē I remember how I didnít believe those words as I wrote them, but I decided to write them anyway. I wrote other things I didnít really believe - I wrote about transition, and my talents, my abilities, ideas in my head that sounded so good, but never revealed themselves in my reality in a tangible way.
There are many people I can say I ďowe it toĒ right now. I owe it to my father for giving me a place to live so I didnít have to worry about rent as I dug myself out of a financial hole; for trusting that I would pull my shit together. I owe it to falling in love, and to M.s. for the inspiration he gives me every day. But I realize, too, that I owe it to myself.
I chose to go back to school and take out that ridiculously large loan. I chose to take a tiny little file clerk job at a low pay and push my way up the ranks in record time. I chose to study my ass off and do well in school. I chose to drop the leeches of my life and replace them with symbiotic friendships that benefit me as much as I benefit them. I chose to fall in love, and I chose to better myself. I chose self-love.
I chose refreshment in the morning over drugs at night. I chose to quit smoking (will be exactly one year on December 20). I chose sincerity over bullshit. I chose communication over avoidance.
Because of these choices, I am the happiest I have ever been in life. Basically, all these little decisions are part of one grand, massive choice Ė I CHOSE TO BE HAPPY. Two years ago, I wrote in my journal that I wanted nothing more than happiness. That I was alone, scared, lost, and frustrated. Today, I realize that the past two years have been my way of granting my own wish. And though I recognize the support, love, and help of loved ones, I know that ultimately, I am responsible for what happens in my life. I know a few people who have undying support, people from all over praising, encouraging, and helping them, but to no avail. One in particular, who has everything in the world except self-love, which keeps her from doing anything with her life. I find that really sad.
I wish she could be as proud of herself, as I am of myself. But alas, that's her choice, not mine.