Coming Back

Hi Guys!

I'm sorry for the grim post followed by the month long hiatus. Obviously, I had to do some soul-searching and figuring out how to repair my broken heart. I won't lie to you and say I'm all better. I have my good days and my bad days. However, I'm getting back (very slowly) to a place where I can love myself and not cry every time I see a baby. Sometimes, when tragedy strikes, the best thing you can do is crawl deep into a hole for a little while. Emotionally, I've been in that hole for a while. I was so far into my little hole that it began to have a really nasty effect on my relationship. The trick is to climb back out of it.

So, how does one fall back in love with his or herself and life? I've been asking myself this for a month. I tried faking it, but it left me feeling emptier than ever. Honestly, it took several things. First, I needed big changes. Not just a hair color, but a full 180. I moved into a new place, got a new job, and even changed my number. And yes, I changed my hair. I didn't realize that these changes were beyond necessary. I even plan on going to a community college this fall. I just needed to get away from the stagnant hamster wheel and focus on the future.

Next, I desperately needed to get back to basics, to really find the things that make me happy. Don't get me wrong. My relationship with my boyfriend is incredibly fulfilling, but between both of our grieving, I needed to start looking at other things that make me happy. I, believe it or not, started READING my blog. I watched my fail-safe movie Elizabethtown. I watched the Amanda Palmer TED talk about 20 times. Slowly, but surely, I began to remember the things that used to make me happy and started going after that again.

 I had to admit to myself that I was depressed. I'm fairly independent, so much to the point that, when something bad happens to me, I tend to shut myself off and try to deal with everything internally. I never want to ask for help. I had a mental breakdown like no other last night, but I was so closed off to everyone that not even my boyfriend, who I continuously push away, noticed. He saw me crying and held me, but he didn't understand--nor could I put into words--how depressed and terrified I have been. That hole completely and totally screwed me over.

So what do I do now? Here's my plan: I'm going to pick myself up by my big girl bootstraps and start living again. I am going to start looking in the mirror every day and compliment myself. I'm going to go on walks and stop isolating myself. I'm going to do this for every person who ever said that I was strong and for everything I love about life. And I'm going to keep blogging.

Yours Truly,

Alaska