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The Great Vacate

Vacate; to leave (a place that one previously occupied). That’s my new approach to life as I know it.

Like so many people in their twenties, I found myself wandering around trying to find my place. I got my degree, a comfy eight-to-five, left the nest, lived on my own, paid my bills, drank on the weekends and complained about my job. I did the things. That didn’t even last a year and a half.

I felt restless and disoriented in my own life. Questioning what I was doing with my time became a daily ponder. I felt like I was living someone else’s life, and it wasn’t someone I looked at with envy. I’ve never been one capable of settling into discomfort. I knew I had to get out. I was at risk of losing the very parts of myself that made me who I was.

So, I quit my eight-to-five and immediately started a part time job in the service industry. One that was familiar, and always provided a comfort and a place to explore my creativity. While I’ve only been in this new (old) job again for less than three months, I can already feel the itch coming. This itch, however is different then those I’ve experienced previously. To give you a general idea of what I’m trying to describe, let me rewind a bit.

About a year ago, maybe seven months into my new life away from home, in the “real world,” I realized after many nights of staying out too late and drinking too much, that I wasn’t actually happy. To start, I realized I didn’t even like to drink. That’s right- something I’d been doing for years, something I did with all those I cared for, was something I didn’t enjoy doing. Upon realizing this, I took my typical black and white approach. I quit drinking all together and announced this change to all my friends and family. All were surprised, but most were supportive. Once I implemented this change however, some of those new friendships of roughly seven months began to fade away. Not all of them, some of those people are still those I call a friend today and expect to tomorrow. However, the calls began to lessen, the texts were left with no reply, and after feeling frustrated with these people, I realized something. It wasn’t their fault, no more than it was mine. The thing I shared most with these people was the exact thing I was giving up. Once that was taken away, there wasn’t much of a foundation for a true connection left.

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