I just had a moment where I was really able to reflect on life from July 2010 to February 2012. Living “on my own” for a year and a half was such an amazing experience. Having my own space, my own place, a haven if you will. July-December 2010 was pretty awesome. My boyfriend and I were living in sin but making it work. We both worked full time, had our 1 bedroom 1 bathroom apartment, and we were able to enjoy the luxuries and easily handle the necessities. Even after I got laid off in January 2011, we were able to make it work financially, even though it was hard. We found a bigger place, and we were still going strong. We got married in May and got a dog in June.
Fast forward to today and I long for the life I had. I’m a bit angry at myself for not realizing how good I had it. I took advantage of the luxuries of being able to sleep next to the one you love on a nightly basis. Having a place I could call my own, do what I want when I wanted, and having a dog who although drove me crazy, often brought love and a smile to my face. I’m upset that I allowed my depression to mask the things I should have been more grateful for. I’m irritated that the saying rings true that you never really miss what you had until it’s gone.
Looking back, the only move I have taken well has been when hubby and I first moved into our apartment. Every other move has had a rough transition on me. Even moving into our townhouse, it took me months to get used to our new home, and it frustrates me to think I didn’t enjoy it as much as I should have. When we moved from our childhood home to my grandparents, it was hard. And this move back here is hard too. I miss my husband, even though we see each other often, it’s just not the same. We’re even searching for Frankie a new home, as this adjustment has been hard on him too.
It makes me think of that Whitney Houston song, “Didn’t We Almost Have It All”, because, well, we did! And somehow, it just wasn’t enough for me. I wouldn’t say I was ungrateful, and I try not to be too hard on myself because depression is a bigger monster than a lot of people think. However, I miss having my own home and I long for the day when I have it again. I wish I showed more appreciation for all that I had from July 2010 to February 2012.
But I’m learning a few things from this experience, from this reflection:
- Shit happens: You live and you learn, and along the way, things are going to happen, regardless of if they were in your plans. We couldn’t have foreseen what was coming, and if we did, chances are we would’ve lived in caution and fear instead of carefree. We would have probably spent more time worrying about what was going to happen instead of enjoying the time we had.
- This is only the beginning: If I think I had it good “back then”, I haven’t seen anything yet. Hubby and I were/are just in the beginning of our wonderful life together. Our next chapter will include better education, more secure and fulfilling jobs, a home we can call our own, and in a few years, children! That was only our engagement. This has only been our first year of marriage. We have so much more to look forward to!
- Be proactive, not reactive: I spent way too much time being negative about situations I had absolutely no control over. What did that help? Who did I lift up? It didn’t help, and I didn’t lift anyone up. I’m working on changing my thought process and how I operate in general. I’m modifying my lifestyle so that I can truly enjoy life instead of sulk about what’s wrong and feeling sorry for myself. I don’t want to sulk about the past or worry about the future. I want to do things now and experience life today.
So didn’t we almost have it all? Possibly. Or, it’s possible we didn’t even scratch the surface. I’m confident that we are on our way to a chapter in our lives where we can look back and say “see, it wasn’t that bad, and didn’t take that long”. I won’t call it a waste, but I also can’t say I don’t have regrets. But I’m not going to dwell on it. I’ll take the gems I need from it and keep it pushing. Soon, we will have it all.