harken all you fallen angels

I know that I've always been indecisive, switching from idea to idea like my life was on a teeter-totter. One second I'm here, the next I'm way over there with different wants and a whole new outlook. I've dragged friends to a restaurant claiming a certain craving that wouldn't let up--then I've looked at the menu, started talking incessantly about another dish, then ultimately end up ordering something I had never even mentioned. Indecisive.

But the way I've been since February...it's a whole other category of indecisive. It's new, even to me--and it's worrisome.

One second I'm hellbent on getting my MBA from a particular university in the States. The next second, I'm determined to quit my job and move to Halifax again for the summer, and push for another better job in September. The next second, I want to keep my current job, stay in Montreal and see how it all plays out.

Underneath it all, rooted deeply below all this indecision is a cause more frightening than any I've ever encountered.

I don't know what makes me happy anymore.

This has never happened to me before.

I have always known what made me happy, and I used to make myself crazy chasing it. But at least I knew what it was, and ultimately when I got it, I was happy.

Last year at this time, Halifax made me happy. The year before that, applying to grad school made me really happy. In January, getting a full time job in my field on salary made me happy.

But since February, every time I ask myself what makes me happy...I can't find an answer.

I don't have an answer.

Halifax makes me happy, I guess. But I don't want to take a meaningless full time job there and live with roommates and be away from my friends for 3 months. When I started apartment and job hunting there this afternoon, I thought man, what a pain in the ass to go through this. I didn't feel that way last year. I was pumped. I can't even explain why, but when I give myself the option to move there for 3 months...I don't want to. I don't know why. But there's something in me that says no.

Montreal doesn't make me unhappy enough to quit this job and move. But I'm unhappy where I am, in the bachelor of my parent's house with them always a little too close for me to feel really free.

I want to go back to school and get my MBA, but I also don't much feel like moving to the US and incurring $60,000 in debt over two years.

Since February I've had this emptiness in me--this giant black hole that has been draining me and draining me. I knew something was wrong. My habits changed. I started hating myself again--I'd pull and tug at my clothes, cross my arms over my stomach. Mentally counted calories and beat myself up everytime I ate. I looked in the mirror and saw a girl that I thought was fat, hideous. Empty. I started running too much. Every time I ran I envisioned myself running away from everything. I'd come back physically exhausted but mentally, my mind would still be reeling. Weird dreams. Malaise. Heart palpitations. Just this giant pit of black that sucks every ounce of energy out of you. No will to do pleasurable things anymore--baking, cooking, dancing, thinking peacefully. All the things that balanced me were now empty.

It's the loneliest thing in the world, to not know what makes you happy anymore. Because nobody can help.

and i know my kingdom awaits

I wonder if I'll ever get to where I want to be.

I wonder if somebody will ever look at my CV, know that I probably don't have all the experience necessary, but hire me anyway. I wonder if somebody will one day see the drive and determination to succeed that exhausts me everyday.

I wonder if I'll ever find peace. Mentally, emotionally, physically.

I wonder if I'll ever learn to let go.

I wonder if I'll ever learn to hang on for just another little while.

I wonder if I'll ever learn how to fail, but more importantly, I wonder if I'll ever learn how to accept that I've succeeded.

I wonder if I'll ever learn to take it easy on myself.

I wonder if I'll ever learn that moving forward is good, but sometimes, standing still and looking around is even better.

The people who claimed that having goals was a good thing were the ones who have achieved every goal they've ever had. Somebody should tell them that some goals are bad. And those are the goals that you don't achieve, and they eat you alive and gnaw at your heart and induce screaming fits of rage.

Goals are not good to have. Because when you don't win - and you won't always win - then those goals destroy you.

I wonder if I'll ever find peace.