Just Breathe - Cats in My Closet

Just Breathe

Do you ever have days where you feel completely overwhelmed? Like nothing you do is coming out right; deadlines are piling up; you can’t even bother putting on pants or leaving the house to go a block up the street, so you order loaded cheese fries for delivery to cope; and the thought of seeing a real-life person or taking the tiniest effort to socialize makes you want to vomit and cry at the same time?

I took some outfit photos with Jordan earlier today to try to shake myself out of this funk, but I didn’t particularly like how they turned out.  It happens sometimes.  I found myself getting frustrated with the photography elements, and I didn’t like the way my clothes fit; I felt so awkward in my own skin, and it showed.

2015 is turning out to be one of the most challenging years of my life thus far, which I didn’t expect at all. On the contrary, I started my year off with high hopes that this would be the year that my life changed for the better:  I quit my full-time job kind of impulsively because I was absolutely dreading going in to the office every day.  I couldn’t find another full-time job in Charleston, so I decided instead to pursue some entrepreneurial endeavors and freelance work.  I also took back my old job to make ends meet in hopes of saving up enough money to move to New York City, which has been a goal of mine since my early twenties. I’ve updated my resume and LinkedIn profiles, I’ve done research, I’ve even been networking in between bouts of anxiety; then, disaster.

My long-term boyfriend had an unexpected family crisis, so I put the out-of-state job hunt on hold because I didn’t want to leave him during his time of need.  I also went to the doctor today and learned that the Depo (hormone) injections I’ve been receiving for endometriosis are affecting my body very negatively, and overall I’ve gained over 40 pounds in the span of less than two years and have developed acne as a result of the testocerone in my body going haywire and the obscene amounts of progesterone in the medication.  (Now, I am a firm believer in body acceptance, but truthfully sometimes it’s harder to take that same approach when looking at your own figure, especially when you’ve had a garbage day; hey, I’m not perfect, I have my bummer days.) Needless to say, it’s pretty discouraging to try to take outfit photos when none of your clothes fit.

Do you remember that scene in Ever After where Drew Barrymore’s character shows up to the ball wearing a killer ensemble and spots the prince and the upper-class crowd, and she’s doing her best not to run into the night screaming and tearing out her hair?  At the top of the staircase, she says to herself “just breathe” and then goes into the fray, almost like giving a (figurative) middle finger to all of the people there as if to say “Yeah, that’s right, I belong here. I’m awesome, I look gorgeous.  I GOT THIS. Thanks, boo boo.”

Everything might feel like a shitshow right now, but I know it’ll pass in time. Sometimes plans change, and I’ll have to roll with the punches until I figure out a better solution.  For now, all I can do is just breathe.


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