Fighting for April

Who knew that the biggest emotional and mentle battle of my life to date would be for the sake of my relationship--not in the way you think, either.

I have been here a week and a half, and have yet to find work. My accounts are dwindling and my faith is at breaking point. There have been ups and downs along the way (one of which was a job interview that would be ideal and I have yet to hear back from them, a day late on their promissed window.), and April, despite how hard this has been on her, has been an amazing support mechanism. I have broken down into tears of frustration, anxiety and depression more times than I can count now, averaging every other day, and I am fighting to keep going.

I don't know what my issue is: why can't I just get up, get some money-maker, pee-on job for the time being until I find something? I attribute it to my desire to never work in retail again, believeing I'm above it. But, here I am again, at a finanacial, mental and emotional low that isn't above any job. There's a reason why greak tragedies always have the hubris be pride; and now I risk writing one of my own.

So how is this a fight for my relationship? I moved here for it. I found myself today thinking about my alternate life in Seattle; I knew I wouldn't be happy there--I wouldn't have April. I knew, the moment I made the decision to move here, that she couldn't handle the long-distance much longer; and to be honest, neither could I. So I moved here, preaching to her of the ease of finding a job once I was in town. It's been almost two weeks and no job. I find myself having to FIGHT to make sure I have either a positive attitude, or a non-shitty one at the least. I want her to be proud of me, not ashamed. I want to provide nothing but the best for her.

And so, I find myself fighting to stay in motion; I find myself fighting the anchor of depression that would be detrimental to any chance of my finding work if I yield to it. I am tired, but I must keep going.

Shake it off Temple, you can do it. You can do anything through God who stengthens you.

Life's Little Ironies

This morning I’ve left to start a life in Tampa. It’s an odd feeling. This is a day I thought would always be in the distance. Like a child looking toward Christmas, I looked at this day as one of great joy, excitement, and anticipation. And, while it has held all those things for me, it has also held sorrow, parting, tearful good-byes. Yes, good-byes are never easy. They never have been for me. And yet, of all my brothers, I have been the one that has had to do it the most often. Leave my “home” (wherever that be) and set roots only to uproot in 6 months and move elsewhere. It’s been a cyclical life of hello and good-byes. For the first time in three years, I will be settling somewhere; not just anywhere—where my love is.

A couple nights ago, I noticed a one of life’s little coincidental symbols. When I moved to Phoenix, the foot of the bed (thus my feet) was pointed do-North—towards Seattle. As my life of this past year has changed in getting to know April, falling in love, and making the decision to move to be close to her and pursue my degree, my bedroom (rearranged by mom while I was away on a visit to Tampa) had ironically, and unintentionally, changed in accordance with my plans; the foot of my bed was no longer pointed towards Seattle, but Tampa Bay. Ah, life’s little ironies.

Cheers all.