Don’t get me wrong. I love, love, love visiting all of my friends that moved to Houston after I left (jerks) (lol) – but every time I go, I always, somehow, find myself taking my old routes – not avoiding them, and diving straight into my old memories of living there in 2008.
It makes me feel really weird to think about my old life in Houston. Where I was laid off from both my third and fourth jobs out of college within 12 months, where I was employed when I had my first couple of panic attacks – all job and life related. Where it took me, literally, the same amount of time to drive home from work as it did to drive to College Station. Where I was absolutely convinced I knew exactly what I was doing – the right thing. The successful thing. I wore suits and shook hands with prestigious engineers who traveled the world. They had mansions across the street in the Galleria area, with pools we could see from the 16th floor of (company name disclosed) (sorry, I told my previous employers I’d keep all their info confidential, and that means clients, too). I barely could afford the car payments on the Cadillac we eventually used to shuttle around these clients to lunch. I barely spoke, I was just a Copy Editor being subjected to hours and hours of deep sea drilling jargon. I never ordered the fabulous food, and instead always got salads. I felt like every day was a tight rope I was desperately trying to balance, always focused on not screwing up.
I had my own place. My whole life, I’d looked forward to living alone. I’d actually never felt more alone – and looking back, I guess I earned those feelings. We didn’t really have the tricked out phones we do today, it was kind of hard to keep in touch with my friends in college, and I was in a failing relationship that I was too distracted trying to keep my job that I noticed. I didn’t have any neighbors, or anyone who lived close enough to me to go to happy hour.
Going back to that neighborhood now to visit dear friends weirds me out. I drive down the exact same street I’d commute to work, past some of the places I always wanted to try to eat at. I look at street signs and they now have ENERGYCORRIDOR.COM written all over them. I see how sad I felt sitting in traffic every morning, wondering where all the people at Starbucks or in the Porsche next to me were headed. I was afraid to get really close to my coworker, Ashley, who is still one of my favorite people in this world. Hardly anyone came to visit me at my apartment, and I was usually so lonely that I slept on the futon I had instead of my bed so I could watch tv and go to sleep. It took me a really long to forget about these feelings – and no matter how much fun I have when I go back to Houston, these grey cloud memories stay with me the entire way home. And I can’t shake them for hours.
It hit me again one day when I was driving in Austin, after I’d just moved there last year. I was listening to “No Air” by Jordin Sparks (I know, not really my type of music – but it really spoke to me for some reason). And, I think. A lot. If my mouth is closed, I’m thinking about four or five things at once. My train of thought was about like this “Ifffff you ain’t here I just cannntttt breattthheeeee – no air, huh? that must be like, a lot of pressure, or no pressure? why do I even like this song? I don’t think my entire world has really been crushed like what they’re referring to. I’ve always had myself to count on, and I know that –” and that’s what brought me to an absolute stop. I’m pretty sure I teared up.
Houston and the job situation after college had taken the air from me. I’d forgotten who I used to be. I got so worried in proving myself to be a die-hard career woman right out of college that I almost let it ruin some of my best friendships, and I know that those who were riding along with me at the time were suffering. It was all I could think about. And that I’d gotten laid off. Again. After I bought a car. And that’s probably been the lowest point of my life so far. It scarred me. It made me question everything. I was scared. Every day. I do remember that I couldn’t sleep, and I was too confused or hurt to really focus on anything else. And I didn’t talk about it, I didn’t want to talk about it. People begged me to come out, but I turned my phone off for most of the time after 5 p.m. I remember I was insulted someone told me I should go outside for an hour a day to help. My life was a busted plan. Completely busted. All of it.
It hit me.
No air.
I couldn’t breathe anymore, because I had taken my life away from me by completing fixating on my task at hand. My world was completely turned over a handful of times, always by surprise, my first two years out of college, and I’d completely forgotten who I was.
A couple of months after I turned 25, I was having dinner in College Station, and my friend Lauren pointed out that I was ‘finally drinking again and making conspiracy theory accusations’ – and most importantly – that I was ‘finally back’. Almost everyone at the table agreed. And for a long, long time after that, I struggled with this. Where had I gone for so long?
I spent a long time trying to remember who I was after that night.
I was the girl in APO who worked really hard, stayed late to put back chairs.
I was the girl who had everyone over to drink and watch the Bachelor/Real World.
I was the cheery student worker.
I was the girl who fell asleep on a new friend and drooled on him during the late hours of Relay for Life.
I wasn’t afraid. Of anything.
I hopped in fountains.
I wasn’t trendy.
I wore flip flops.
I couldn’t afford any clothes. And I looked it.
I was humble.
I was the semi-decent student.
I was the girl who missed a final once because I opted to stand in my kitchen and laugh with my roommate instead.
I was the girl who was always at the Hall on Thursday night.
I was the girl who loved her friends.
I was the girl who put her head down in the domino game at Fitz’s on Fridays.
I was the girl who wanted my friends to stop smoking.
I made my own Aggie overalls.
I was the one who always wanted everyone to get along.
I was the girl who broke my lease to take over Lauren’s.
I wiped tears away from the faces of girls I barely knew.
I felt you could change anyone’s mind over a couple of shots.
I was a hard worker.
I was creative.
I wanted to be in love.
I loved being an Aggie.
I had fun everywhere I went.
I was the girl who climbed in the freezer at Pledge Program Retreat.
I was the girl who was PT’s with Richard when no one else wanted to be.
I was the girl who had some bumps her sophomore year.
I was the girl who always drove to see my friends.
I believed in the underdog.
Most importantly, I felt like I could do anything.
I could change the world.
I’d forgotten about all of that.
And it made me sad to feel like I was losing that person.
Since my little self-diagnosis, I’ve been pretty much focused on revamping myself the past year.
I’ve decided a couple of things.
I’m going to be the woman who challenges those around me to be better.
I’m going to challenge those around me to stop being so lazy – in mind, body, and spirit.
I’m going to be the woman who tries to recycle.
I’m going to be a good friend, over and over again.
I’m going to smile harder every day for the two or three years I spent frowning.
I’m going to be that woman who encourages her students to have as much school pride as I did.
I’m going to wish well to men who it didn’t work out with – with everything – jobs, life, kids, etc.
(Okay, not Australia guy. Seriously. That was messed up.)
I’m going to reconnect with my friends in different places as much as I can.
I’m going to take care of myself and look like an actual woman, not an undergrad.
I’m going to continue to make my family proud of me.
I’m going to sing louder in my car than ever.
I’m going to go into every new situation optimistic. Until he gives me a reason to not be so.
I’m going to be difficult – because I believe in so much. And good luck to any man who wants to try and tackle that.
I’m going to be worth every damn minute of it, too.
I’m going to contribute to positive world change. Somehow.
Songs:
Angel – Augustana
Maybe – Secondhand Serenade
But, Honestly – Foo Fighters
