Beyond 30: The Next Chapters

Whenever my mental health takes a dive, it usually manifests itself in physical ways. Not cleaning the house. Forgetting to eat. Neglecting my personal hygiene. Laying in bed all day lurking around the internet as if it will distract me from how miserable I am. That's where I've been lately by which I mean mostly this weekend (okay and a little bit of the week, too). I would say I'm sorry for being such a downer but the reality of this project is that my life is on highlight: the good, the bad, and the stinky (and I mean that both literally and figuratively). Rejection is a certain kind of heavy sadness, the kind that feels like worthlessness and talks like self doubt, the persistence of which spends its days whispering the inevitability of failure in your ear: you are nothing . And this leaves me with a feeling of deep shame: I generally consider myself to be a self-sufficient, independent person who has never relied on other people to supply or ensure my own happiness

Right now, it is almost four in the afternoon, the window is open and it is pouring rain outside. There's a burrito'd dog at my feet, snuggled and cozy, snoring the day away. Despite the chaos as of late, life is good for the moment. I want to spend some time for this weeks blog talking about a few things. One, I'm not sure if I've mentioned my whole housing situation. I honestly can't remember if I've talked about this previously so if I have, sorry! Back in June, after literal months of searching, I found an apartment that was below my budget, close to work, accepted dogs, etc. Come to find out maybe a short week after I moved in that the landlord was in the process of selling the complex to another property management company, who, funny enough, didn't offer us a lease renewal at the end of August. Suffice to say it's been an absolute clusterfuck. There's a possibility my roommate and I may be able to stay here for an increased rate or at le

My life is now and has always been very musical. From a very early age, music was as much part of my every day routine from waking to falling asleep to all the movement in between and it seems to permeate everything that I do. It's often been said, usually but not always in a loving way, that I get carried away with the music in my head and in my feet and in my mouth. Sometimes, I'll catch myself humming or whistling or tapping away without even realizing it, occasionally to the chagrin of the people around me. I'd apologize but I really can't help it. Music is so very much who I am.  Much in the same way that music has a rhythm and a purpose, so does cleaning. I know this sounds like an odd premise but keep up with me here and we'll get to the end; I promise.  Though I'm sure it's different for some people, having a clean home feels like home base for me. It feels like the stillness before an ensemble takes that first unison breath, fingers waiting a