Stronger Intentions

I took a tour of the house that I’m looking to move into. I met one of my potential roommates while I was there. She reminds me a lot of a good friend I have back home. Something about her fashion sense triggered memories of her. The house is still going undergoing renovations, but the manager said that the place will be ready to move into by August. The upstairs bedroom are oddly sized and shaped, but then again the house is from the 1930’s. Whatever room I end up living in I’m definitely gonna have to pack light.

I almost got cold feet before I left to go to the house. I think I was psyching myself out, predicting that something was going to horribly wrong. The only hiccup that happened was getting turned around when having to walk to the house itself. It’s a ten minute walk to the closest bus stop. But that doesn’t bother me. I used to walk around Uptown Charlotte between the Central Campus of CPCC and the closest bus stop from there was right in front of the Mecklenburg County Jail. I made a wrong turn while on foot, but I managed.

The girl was nice enough to give me a ride back to the Cottages. I have a very good feeling about her. I feel so relieved that I went after all. I’m even more relieved that this dreadful semester is over. Things didn’t go as I had planned when things started, but it’s not the end of the world. It sucks that things went down they way they did, but failures don’t have to mean the end of anything. I came back, felt like celebrating, wanted to order pizza. But then found out that there’s an overdraft on my account. So no pizza. Mercifully I have ingredients to work with here.

Normally when under anxiety or depression I would feel like these things would be ominous or the worst things that could possibly happen to me. It’s embarrassing admitting to how easily rattled I can get, but there is little point in holding back the truth. But then again I know I’m not the only one who gets like this.

So the viewing of the house went without a hitch. That’s the good news. But now here comes the hard part. Waiting for this manager to get back to me and choose me to take the house. And man….I can’t express how much I HATE playing the waiting game. Waiting for this semester to end was grueling enough. I haven’t been eating as well like I normally would. I’ve lost weight as a result of stress. I know I have because my cheeks keep tightening up and they feel a lot smaller. Bright side to this I had a serious blowfish face when I first got here. So clearly my diet plan is paying off.

I like to think that I have the advantage here. When I applied and answered questions I threw in some extra comments about how I needed a fresh start, that I cook and clean, that I am not the party animal, drug hopping fiend that the manager is trying to NOT get. I don’t blame the guy for being picky about his tenants. He’s invested like $40,000 to flipping that house. He can’t just give it away to just anybody.

Earlier today I felt odd. Not odd in the bad sense. But odd nonetheless. I felt almost lighter in somehow and it was not simply because of the weight loss. I feel faster. I feel like I’m more awake somehow. Maybe it’s a sign that I’m on my way back to the person that I once was. I’ve also been writing for that special story project that I mentioned. Turns out writing drafts long hand makes all the difference for me. It felt so good to fill out entire pages again. Even if the writing wasn’t very concise. My creativity is coming back to me.

I am coming back from everything that’s ever gone wrong. I am picking myself up from every failure and defeat that I’ve ever endured. I am going to turn things around for the better. I am going to live my life according to my own will. I won’t let myself be controlled by my depression/anxiety any longer. I won’t turn every bad thing into some freakin’ monster to slay or giant mountain to climb, and I will have the happiness that I deserve.