The End

If I treated my life as a business (which, in all transparency, I used to), well then my Q1 report would be almost in. 

I want to tell you what I've done this year, because I think it's important. 

And while I sit here and proclaim these things, it is important for you to note that I am still a work in progress, and things still try to send me spiraling back daily — I, now, am better equipped to handle... but I am nowhere near perfect. 

From 2014-2017 I was a little off. Of course, this started slowly, and of course, not everyone realized. You saw some intense blogs, I opened up more and more about what was going on, and things, well, they got worse and worse. On the outside, I was flying high — moving up in my career and life and posting all the cute pictures on Instagram hoping for all those comments that said, "you're perfect."

On the inside, I was a mess. Slowly but surely adopting coping mechanisms for my need for greatness and perfection that ultimately pulled me further and further from it. I killed myself in pursuit of wanting to be better — to be the best. I hated myself when I couldn't live up to everything I thought I needed to be, and I punished myself by sabotaging and making it all worse. I tried to box myself in and define who I was over and over and over again. To really paint a picture, I didn't cry for about two years as I had shut myself off from feeling, really, anything. Sometimes I wanted out of my own head so badly that I, really, didn't know what to do.

Yes, the above paragraph is depressing as all hell. And just so you know, I did have INCREDIBLE times during these three to four years of my life. Like, incredible times. But there was always a cloud over my days that was taking me out of the present — creating a fog over the life in front of me. There was always a dragon inside me that was pulling me away from fully experiencing the moment, no matter how great it was. 

I did some stuff this year. 

I uprooted my life, taking on more in my career than I ever thought possible. I learned to let go of goals and focus on a few things at once rather than a million. I learned to put down my phone, my schedule, and my need for perfection in all aspects of life. I learned that the grass isn't greener, you just need to water your own. I re-taught myself to live. By repeating the smallest things such as not looking at my calendar for a full day or realizing what time really means over and over again — I re-taught myself to live. I learned to let go of my diet and worrying about the food I was eating or the drinks I was drinking. I learned to not be scared of money, not having enough materialistic possessions, or looking picture perfect online.

I learned to not be scared of me. 

I learned to not strive to be who I wanted to be — but to be who I wanted to be. 

I worked unsuccessfully to be balanced, confident, and abundant for four years of my life. It wasn't until I told myself I already was balanced, confident, and abundant that I actually started to live it. 

Because I finally had the faith in myself to live it — instead of writing it down as a five-year goal... I decided to go out in the world and be balanced, today.

I created a bigger world for myself, much larger than before, as my need for perfection in all areas of life had diminished my world to the size of a pin.

Each day it got bigger as I took joy in the little things. Because for a while, even getting ready seemed like a waste. Everything seemed redundant, difficult — tiring. I finally started forcing myself to do things such as making my bed, getting ready, walking around the block — even if they didn't bring me happiness at first... I kept my faith.

Because, one day, as I walked around the block with my coffee, I realized how amazing life really is. 

It all came back. 

Through consistency and trust — it all came back.

In Q1 of this year, it all came back. 

Now, I relapsed time and time again during this period. I failed constantly and sometimes, I still do. But I kept trying to get better. I was committed to getting better. 

Because I knew that one day would come sometime soon.

I knew that this day would come.

The day that you accept the things that have happened to you that were outside of your control, you accept the things you have done to yourself that were in your control, you get dressed, and you walk out the door. 

I knew that day would come. 

And it did. 

This is not to say that I won't continue to go through things, that I won't need to write, and that I won't continue to fail. I am human, and I want to continue to fail and grow. I want to continue to go through things.

So I'll still be here, I'll still struggle — but this time I'll really be here.

I'm really, actually... here.