Sometimes you have to put yourself first or you'll always come last

Hello!! Hello....hi....
I've been gone. A very very long time. I've thought about my blog over and over again but I have been going through a jumble of emotions in my absence and had this weird kind of anxious writer's block so I just had no motivation or energy to write.
Basically....and without sharing every single thing that has happened over the last **mumbled number cause it's grossly high** months, my life has been super busy and chaotic and in the process of change.
I've actually tried like five times to write a blog post. Seriously, I have five drafts of half written posts about various different things, but I never followed through on posting them.
And then there was that nagging little voice I like to call my anxiety that would whisper "nobodyyyyy cares" or "don't botherrrr, seriously nobody caresssss" so that was holding me back too. (I feel I should clarify that those are actually just my internal thoughts and that I don't hear voices)
However, I'm currently sitting down with a cup of coffee and a candle burning and I'm finally (finally!) feeling like myself again. A miracle, I say!

I don't even know where to start right now, my mind is racing a mile a minute because I have so much that I want to say it before I forget or get too anxious to share it.
Since the last time I posted, a lot of things have happened.
I finished two semesters of post grad school, which means I'm done the entire program! I cannot believe a whole year went by and in that time I've gotten so much experience, learned a ton of things, and met so many amazing people (who will now just be distant memories in my heart because that's just how life goes).
During my summer semester, I got chosen to be Editor-in-Chief of my school's news website (well ok...first I was Managing Editor, which is still like, a high honour but then our EIC got a job and left so I got "promoted"). It was one of the most amazing experiences of my life, super exhausting (8-10 hour days) but made me feel so happy and satisfied.
Then I had an internship I was supposed to start in June and they contacted me and told me they were shutting down and could no longer offer me it....three days before my start date. I loved that part. Really not nerve wracking, and did not make my life feel upside down. But c'est la vie. Two months later (after a lot of rejection emails) (rip self esteem), I finally found another internship that I started earlier this month and I really really enjoy it. (I'm currently procrastinating work I need to do for that by writing this post, sos)
I never realized how cool a partially work from home job would be until I started doing it. I only go into the office once or twice a week, otherwise I send most of my "professional" emails from my bed in my pyjamas.
Within my first shift at my internship, I already felt so welcomed and valued. It was such a refreshing and awesome feeling. Even the little busy work I do is enjoyable because I know that in a few weeks all my little tasks will add up and contribute to the publication of a magazine and my name will be in it! It's such a cool feeling.

So...yeah. I've been busy. During my summer semester I did four days of school and four days of work and if you do the math, that equals eight and there is not eight days in a week, so that means that I'm exhausted!!
At first, I really enjoyed the go go go life, it kept me occupied and on my feet, and I felt like I wasn't wasting away my summer days.
But then I realized how many months had gone by since I've written any blog posts, or even picked up a book to read. That's not like me. At my core, one of my biggest passions in life (besides like, french fries and puppies) is writing. And I totally stopped.
I wanted to believe that it was because I was so busy. I had one, maybe two days a week off and on those days I either had cleaning to do or errands to run, or just wanted to lie in bed like a potato and that's essentially why I stopped doing things I love.
But then you do it over and over, week after week, and "I'm just too busy or tired or xyz" becomes "I just don't feel passionate about this anymore" or "I have no motivation" and it's not very good.
I've never considered myself an aspirational person until about last year when I found myself daydreaming about the day my own book comes out, or being Editor-in-Chief of a renowned magazine, or...just having a job where I can write from home in my pyjamas.
So, I need to keep that passion. I can't just suppress it because I don't have the time or energy, but I can't create time when I genuinely have none, and I can't build up energy unless I take the time to rest.
What I thought was me keeping myself super occupied, running around from school to work to bed to work to hanging out with friends to bed to internship, and so on...really just became me living a life that I wasn't really enjoying.
It really hit me when I sat down and thought about the last time I felt genuinely excited to do something, and I realized....I couldn't remember.
Nothing excited me anymore, nothing made me feel like I was living my best life, and I would wake up in the morning, think about everything I have to do and everywhere I had to be...and I just didn't want to. It sucked.
Just a few weeks ago, I was lying in bed one morning before a shift at work (my retail job, not my internship), and I felt so numb and drained. The thought of getting up and spending six hours on a Saturday to go to a job that had no future or positive impact on me was just...depressing.
But I kept telling myself over and over again that it was for the money and to get out of the house, and although that worked for a while, eventually it just became too much.
I realized that I was staying at my job to keep my parents happy by having my own money and keep my understaffed managers happy by helping out and keep my friends happy by being able to afford going out often but then I said.....but what the heck am I doing to keep myself happy? Nothing, really.
I wasn't passionate or excited or content with my life. I was just going through the motions of a lifestyle that was keeping everyone around me satisfied, but I felt nothing.

One night, I walked out of work (on a Friday because I love working weekend nights since I have no social life or friends). I got into my car and sat there and just started bawling my eyes out. Like that gasping for air, I don't know why I'm crying, oh geez there's a guy in a car driving past me and we just made eye contact and this is embarrassing...kind of bawling. And I drove home like nothing happened.
Then I showered, went to bed, and woke up the next day and went to work pretending I was okay. And I did it again the next day, and the next day, and again and again.
But finally, one day I called my mom (once again sobbing because I'm a giant baby), and I had zero reason to be so upset except that it was a busy day and I was overwhelmed physically and mentally. She told me to quit. Like that day, on the spot. And I was like...who are you? In this house we don't do anything spontaneously, we sit and sleep on it for 47 days until we are good and ready to make a decision.
So I went home, cried for two more hours and told my parents that I just didn't feel good, I felt like I was depressed and that my life was hopeless and meaningless, and I was losing sight of myself and my aspirations.
"Just quit. The money will come back as soon as you start working again. Your mental health may not."
So I quit.

I want to do things that I enjoy and that make me feel alive and accomplished and meaningful. I want to be where I'm appreciated and valued and needed.
At the end of the day, I want to be taking steps (even if they're tiny baby steps) towards my goals and aspirations. I don't want to live a "one step forward, two steps back" lifestyle. Tiny baby steps are generally what I've taken over the last year, but to me that's enough.
Leaving behind a lifestyle that I personally outgrew and no longer enjoyed was one huge step for me, though. It scared me, and made me a little bit sad, but that's how I know it's a good change. Anyone with any type of anxiety would know that literally everything scares us, but it's those really really scary things that are so worth the fear.
Everyone deserves to be where they're valued and loved and important. In all parts of your life.

And I'm not saying that I wasn't appreciated or valued, because I really can't speak for how other people feel about me. But I felt like I wasn't.
You know on TV when people are in counselling sessions and the therapist says "now always say 'I feel these emotions' not 'you make me feel these emotions'", that's what's I'm trying to say. I felt these things, regardless of how other people were actually treating me.
Basically (a really wise phrase I came up with one night in the shower)...Someone who is unknowingly hurting you, is still hurting you. 
And that goes for anyone in any way, shape, or form in your life. Whether it's a friend or family or colleague, it's all the same.
Nobody deserves to feel unwanted or unappreciated or undervalued. You just don't. And I don't know why we often just accept the way people treat us if it's not the way we personally need to be treated.
I, for instance, am a big baby and if you say mean mean things to me I will cry right in front of you and get mascara all over my face because I'm a giant adult baby.

So, I don't want to start a riot and convince everyone to quit their job and leave their toxic situations and start a new life in a small European city, but if that's what you need to do right now then so be it my dude.
But I think I did want to share my story because I know (I hope) there is at least one (maybe two) other people in the world that this resonates with.
Are you living your best life right now, or just a life? Going through the motions of a super busy or really boring or same old thing life?
I hate change, it's scary and anxiety inducing but it is so worth it. A thousand times worth it. I don't like the phrase "the grass isn't always greener on the other side" because sometimes...it actually is.
This is kind of the whole point of this post...to share my experience (the stress, tears, frustration) and hopefully help other people in similar situations. I mean, helping people is literally the whole point of my blog right?

I'm glad to be back. I'm anxious of course, because sharing my thoughts on the internet is somehow scary as if the whole entire world reads my blog. (Although I could use that kind of Adsense)
I'm going to continue doing what scares me if it creates a positive change, and writing about things that I think other people need or want to hear. (Omg I started calorie counting a few months ago and I love it and can't wait to share about it because before that I was so against it but it changed my life ok I'll save this for next post)
Anyways, my mom told me not to write something mushy and depressing as my first post back, but I must. This is who I am mother! She can't stop me! Unless she'll stop buying me really green bananas and soy coffee creamer because I love those.

Oh yeah, and if you know anyone who's hiring a writer/editor/reporter/journalist, hook a sister up. I'm kidding but also so not kidding. 

Thank you for reading. Especially if you've made it to the end. And even more if you've read most or all of my posts. It means a lot. It's cool to be able to share my writing with other people. I've always kept it to myself growing up. But this year I got to share so many awesome articles for school with hundreds of readers and it made me feel so satisfied.
Me and my fragile little heart will be here writing away because I refuse to let anything stop me again.
I decided to put myself first for the first time in a really long time and ugh, I'm so happy I did.