Last year at this time I was at my lowest of the low. I tried to be honest with you guys on how I was feeling (read more here), but I also tried to put on a smile and stay positive. Saying that I was hiding my fear and loneliness is not the right word for it. I was doing my best to stay positive, because there is a fine line you walk when you are a blogger going through a difficult time. Your readers want honesty. They want to help. They want to support you. But they, like your friends and family, also have a line of how much woe is me they can take.
It helps to write things on a blog, but you're not helping anyone by swimming in sadness. So I tried to put my positivity hat on. I was so sad in Dallas, I knew I could love it here, but I was really struggling with intense loneliness.
So many nights I cried myself to sleep thinking, "What the hell am I doing here?? What have I done? I've wasted two years on a random move halfway across the country... *insert about 5-6 more f-bombs*"
But guess what, those nights that I spent crying myself to sleep, did they help me at all? Other than the fact that I think a good cry is absolutely vital for my personal sanity, no they didn't. After about a year and a half of not really trying, instead just talking about trying, I realized these things don't just fix themselves, I had to be brave and put myself out there.
Honestly, not everything I tried worked. I struck out, and then I spent time pouting about striking out. And feeling sorry for myself about striking out. I'd go to events alone, with a goal of getting there and making friends. Instead, I'd get there and would hover by the bar, too shy / petrified / embarrassed / *insert a billion other synonyms for wuss here* to walk up and start a conversation with a group of strangers.
I'd order a drink, and every time I'd start to move my right foot forward in an effort to walk over and join a random group of people, my brain would start entertaining the thoughts of self-doubt that were pulsing through my mind. The hope in my heart that tonight was the night that would change everything would wash away. I'd quickly decide that the thoughts of self-doubt were a totally viable excuse for my front foot to retreat back to its original position next to the left foot. Then I'd slink out the door and wonder why that didn't work. Why didn't everyone come up to me and say "Hey girl HEYYY let's be besties!"
In May of 2014, right when the thoughts of, "Whelp, I failed at this, what's next?" progressed from a brief fleeting thought, to moving in, unpacking giant boxes and hanging items in the closet, I met CB. My point is absolutely not that a boyfriend is the solution to your problems. Heck, I didn't even want a boyfriend! My point is that, no matter how many attempts it takes, you have to put yourself out there and be brave. You have to come out of your comfort zone.
It does not matter how many times you step up to the plate and strike out, or how long you feel sorry for yourself for striking out. When you finally get the courage to place the right foot down in front of you, the left foot will follow and lead you to the solution for your problems. That solution might be new co-workers at a new job, or it might be a rescue puppy who will save your life as much as you just saved theirs, or it might be a group of girls that love and inspire you, or it might be the most unbelievable love of a lifetime you never even knew existed.
If you're sad and lonely, don't give up. Trust me, I know it's hard. Life is hard. Cry, complain, bitch, feel sorry for yourself, but don't give up and don't stop putting yourself out there. A year (or maybe two years, or maybe three years, or maybe 24 hours) later you will wake up wondering what on earth you did to deserve such happiness.