The first time someone ever told me that I "needed a hobby", I turned down going out with my friends because I had to work the next day. I rolled my eyes, but now it makes sense.
It took me until where I am in life to realize why hobbies are so important.
This past year has been a very difficult one for me. I was at my happiest, and at my worst. When Dave and I moved here, I was avidly writing two books and finding out what it was like to truly be on my own. It was exhilarating and frightening. But it was easy because I had my hobbies to hold me through my tough times.
I blogged when I was sad or lonely, I FaceTimed almost every day and searched for jobs left and right. Then I found what I thought was my dream job.
I was so happy and thriving. I had found my people. My family. People who didn't care what I looked like, or how much I weighed, what music I liked, or if I cried because I was homesick. I was in love with my job for the first time ever.
Naturally, I fell off from my hobbies, writing, yoga, and talking to friends, diving head-deep into work. How could I be happier? Work didn't even FEEL like work. Then this year, things began to fall apart. I worked with someone who didn't like me and felt that I had it out for them, so they spread lies, and in September, I lost my job, my family, and my stability.
I was lucky enough to find another job less than a week later, but at the expense of a giant pay cut, and having to sell my horses, and taking on stress because I am continuously worrying about how I will afford life. I am trying to write a little more each week or two, hoping it will bring back some peace.
This has been a really rough patch, and folks, life isn't easy. But someday I truly believe fate will hand me something good. I am good and I do try to do good for people.
Thanks for listening to my rant. I feel lost and alone, even though I know I have support. I just wish there was an easy way out. For now, I guess we will see.
Much Love.