Taking Chances

One of my biggest issues is not taking a chance on things I know I have to capability of achieving, but lack the confidence. I lower myself to a level that is less than. I never really cared to be a pretty face, because I’ve never viewed myself that way. I’d rather spend my time reading a book over socializing with people that will eventually end up screwing me over.

I have struggles with my confidence, the person people see on the exterior is not the person I see myself as. I’d rather be an intellect over something pleasing to look at. I’d rather be challenged as a intellectual over getting by with just my appearance.

About a month ago I stepped on a scale for the first time in almost 2 years. I weighed 20lbs. more than I weighed majority of high school and college. I knew I was heavier two months ago when my clothes stopped fitting me, clothes I’ve worn since I was seventeen. I had people tell me that it’s because bodies change as you get older, but honestly I wasn’t taking care of myself. You see… I stopped taking chances. Until recently… working out 3-4 times a week and trying to eat better. It’s helping mentally as well.

Around this time a year ago, I was working three jobs and paying all my bills, rarely sleeping and making stupid decisions. I met someone last summer that encouraged me to take a chance, so I took the GRE scored in the first and second percentile and applied to a school I never believed I’d get in….but I did. I deferred when things in my life were not in control. But I took that chance to apply to a school I never believed that I, myself, would get into. I kept it a secret and didn’t tell family or my parents for months. I wasn’t proud of myself. In fact, I was overwhelmed.

The past four years alone haven’t been easy for me and people close to me know some, if not all of what has happened. I really don’t know how I’m still here today, but I am. Going into college I wanted to be a journalist. I was great at what I did, lazy, but achieving. I put myself in too many things, I couldn’t achieve them all successfully, but I kept saying “yes”… it caught up to me. All of it. I lost something that I spent the first three years of college obsessing over. I lost a painful amount of things the year I turned twenty. I still tried to take chances, but I had something haunting me. I have something haunting me.

You see, I found comfort in my sadness. Cliche, but true.

Last year, I took a chance in taking myself out of toxic situations, away from toxic people. I moved into my own place and for a moment I was improving.

Lately, I’ve been clawing myself out of the hole I dug this past year of depression. I feel there’s a lack of support. I have people telling me what to do or how, but not asking how I’m doing (with intent of wanting to know). The job hunt has been awful, but luckily I have a job right now, barely getting by, but that’s how it’s supposed to be for a twenty-one year old in New York City. I’m trying, my god I’m fucking trying. Taking a chance on something I soon hope to share in months to come…

I know this post is sloppy, but it’s been a while…and I don’t feel like fixing it. k bye.

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