I recently moved to the desert after living near some form of body of water all of my life. From a scenic standpoint, it’s drastically different but ultimately I have all of the comforts I’ve usually had…like Taco Bell. I moved here with my boyfriend after he accepted a great job in his field. We moved from the northeast coast all the way to the southwest. It was a big move for him as well, being that he’s never left his hometown. I, on the other hand, have lived in a handful of states and have moved countless times now. Most of the time it was by choice, and other times necessity.
I’m 30, all of a sudden. I’ve never been married and have no children. Currently, I don’t have a job (and I hate typing that). With the move, I had to quit my work but it wasn’t really MY work anyway. I had been waiting tables for the last 7 months and before that I was working at a wealth management firm. That one almost did me in. Those are some stuffy, stuffy folk. So basically, I have no career. I didn’t always have this much free time – I was in grad school for a year studying mental health counseling. I didn’t finish. Mid-way through a semester, I had a depressive episode which resulted in me making horrible decisions. I ended up having to move back home with my mom.
I have plans now though, sort of. I’ve considered using my B.A. degree in anthropology to get somewhere, but then again, I’m not sure I can use the words “get somewhere” and “anthropology” in the same sentence. I was an archaeologist once. Yup, I sure was. I was at the bottom of the rung, but I suppose I was actually doing the work people seem to think is so cool. Excavations are brutal, especially when you’re working on a scorching, humid afternoon. The machete was pretty cool, though. I was laid off from that during 2008 when the economy tanked. There didn’t seem to be much hope for the future as archaeology projects were coming to a halt/close. Through people in the field, I realized I’d need to get a Ph.D. if I wanted to ever see any money. That wasn’t going to work. That’s when I decided, for various reasons, to get a master’s in mental health counseling. I BELIEVED in it. I just lost myself in the process. I couldn’t protect myself from the very thing I was studying.
Since that extreme episode, I’ve been slowly rebuilding my life. While living with my mom, I took up running, which was something I THOUGHT I despised. I ended up losing 50lbs. I got into cooking with fresh, home grown herbs and making healthy meals. I have a thing for pepperoni pizza. That ain’t goin’ no where no time soon. I’ve been proud of these achievements, but I still have so far to go. Depression doesn’t just go away – you have to stay active. But here I am, living in a place where I can wear cowboy boots everyday and never get a second glance. I actually think I might get into it. I’m embarking on a new adventure, so to speak, but that doesn’t make it easy, especially with depression. I’m happy to share my stories with you through this blog and I hope to help in any way I can.