My quarter life crisis, like I said, transpired a year late. Maybe this was because I was traveling so much when I was 25 that my crisis could never find where I was. At this time, I lived in Miami. Aventura to be correct. I loved my friends, I loved the place, but hated the people. I couldn't take the rudeness, the language barrier, the snobby better than you attitudes. At first, my job was going pretty bad. I had just stopped traveling and came back into stores. I felt lost. Until I started dating my ex. After that, my job was back on track. I started running more and feeling good about myself. I saw Miami through a happier, peppier me. I thought I had my life together. I knew what I wanted. Until I got side swiped with a broken heart. After this I did a lot of thinking. A lot of analyzing. A lot of running. And a lot of working. I didn't know what I wanted anymore. Did I really want to live in Miami? Was I really ready to move on and heal my shattered heart?
At this point, I freaked. I felt like my life was just a huge bowl of hot mess cereal that I was eating for breakfast everyday. My life consisted of working until I passed out, running until I passed out, drinking until I passed out, crying until I passed out, and repeat. I needed a change. I needed control. I needed a vacuum to pick up the pieces of my life that were left all over my 19th floor apartment. So when my boss approached me with an opportunity to move to NY, I didn't even have to sleep on it. I basically said yes and I was out of Miami and in NY 2 weeks later.
My move to Long Island was like a restart to my life. Totally different place, new people, new friends. I wasn't in Kansas anymore. This is what my life needed. I had my wall up to any guy that was trying to get in my life and focused on my job. I made some really close friends, worked my ass off, and then moved to a place I now love. My little beach town of Long Beach. My quarter life crisis was over. I was back to happy, peppy, crazy, random Stella.
And then I seemed to hit crisis mode again. I began hating a job that I had so much passion and love for. A job that took me all over the world and allowed me to see things I had never seen before. A job I put my whole life into for the past 8 years. I began to open my eyes and see the other side of the moose. I began dreading going into work, looking forward to every day off I had. I questioned everything the company asked out of me and realized I just couldn't do it anymore. I really started looking towards my future, and that was not with the company that I put so many hours and hard work into. I became so unhappy with what I was doing, I almost just threw in the towel and took the whole summer off. Sounded like an awesome plan at first, until I landed myself in the ER.
Life is sometimes a scary ride and when suddenly something goes wrong with your health, it can become your worst nightmare. Like I had mentioned in a previous post, earlier in the day I was running the boardwalk. By the end of the day, I was grabbing my side, doubled over in pain. Three days later, I'm in the OR, getting two larger than golf ball sized hairy creature looking things(dermoid cysts) off my lady parts and pieced back together by my doctor. I gotta say, this surgery took so much out of me. I became so down on myself. Here I was, unhappy with my job that I had once loved and in so much pain and scared from a health issue I now have to deal with for the rest of my life.
Oh, but that's not all of this quarter plus 3 year crisis. This wouldn't be a single girl blog without writing about boys, now would it? I have something to admit. For the past year, I, Stella Elizabeth Taylor, have been a serial dater. I said it. Call me the Ted Bundy of dating. That wall that I had put up before leaving Miami and after moving to NY, yeah it went down about a year after that. I left myself unguarded and took risks. Time after time there was failure after failure, each time I picked myself up, dusted off my shoulders, and kept going. Each time I got knocked down became harder and harder, until I was KOed. Down for the count as described in my last post. I felt I didn't have the strength to pick myself up anymore.
And so my life has become code red. Crisis mode has been in full effect. In the past few months, I've felt like the myth of Sisyphus, rolling a boulder up a hill only to watch it roll back down and to keep trying to push it back up just to watch it fall back down. How do I stop this? How can I get up the hill and keep the boulder at the top? In life there is no crisis manual to tell you want to do or how to avert the crisis. There is no chapter that tells you what the next step of your life is and what to do when life comes tumbling down on you. There's no chapters that tell you how to mend a hurt heart, what to do when you hate your job, and how to get back on your feet when you're at the lowest of your low. Slowly but surely, I think I'm figuring out how to cope with my crisis. Slowly, I'm rolling the boulder up that hill.
I need to get my happiness back. Be back to my normal, spontaneous, fun-loving self. How do I do this? For the longest time, I've been depending on things and others to make me happy. My job had made me happy but then when I started hating it, I became unhappy. Guys I had dated made me happy, but when something went wrong I was left unhappy. I have decided I need to make myself happy. No more depending on others or things to do that. I gotta find happiness inside. No more worrying about others or other things. It's time to be a little selfish. It's time to do me. Do what Stella wants and what Stella needs.
So, what is going to make Stella happy? Two weeks ago, I finally did it. I quit. I QUIT. It feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I am taking 2 weeks off for some me time. Some time to think. Some time to write. Some time to see my family and spend with my friends. Some time to do whatever the hell Stella wants to do. I'm getting my life back on track. I'm running again and getting back in good health. And then starting my new job. And the whole serial dating thing? There won't be anymore of that. Even serial killers need to take a break, right? Yeah, I don't know much about serial killers, but I'm sure they need a little rest in between killings, right? Well this little serial dater needs a break. My wall has been built. I gotta focus on myself first and get my life together before I even think of bringing someone else back into my life. I have decided to take a manbatical for a little bit. What, may you ask, is a manbatical? Well, the Urban Dictionary describes it as this:
Manbatical: An extended period of time where a straight woman or a gay man purposely refrains from dating men; literally, a man sabbatical.I'm not going to take it to such an extreme as I've heard other girls do, like not even talk to guys, but I need to focus on myself for a few. If someone comes along during that time, so be it, good for me. It's definitely going to be hard to break down this wall I got up though.
Example: Every guy I date seems to be a loser. It's time for me to go on manbatical.
I feel as though my life crisis is nearing an end. I just have to keep my focus on me and do what makes me happy for a bit and I will be fine. I'm going to be just fine :)
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