What's New?

Though I kind of touched on it in my last post, I wanted to do a little bit of a life update. Honestly, if for no other reason than to write it down for myself. In a little less than a week, Nick and I will celebrate our one year anniversary of living in Chicago! It's crazy to think that a year ago we were packing up all of our stuff and getting ready to make a huge move. Those that know me well will already know that I went away to New York right after high school, and really didn't have the best experiences. Between being 18 and being homesick, and having my parents going through a kind of messy divorce, I wasn't happy with where I was. I wasn't doing anything around the city other than going to school and being at home watching Netflix. I made friends, but I didn't hang out with them. It was a hard time and my mental illness was really in a terrible place at that point. I was overeating or not eating at all. I wasn't sleeping much, and when I was sleeping, it pretty much meant that I was tossing and turning and having terrible dreams. I was getting sick almost weekly. And I was spending ALL of my money at Duane Read to make myself feel better. That was my last experience living away from what I have called home all my life.
This move was another beast entirely. When I was in New York, I had dreams that I would love it and stay there, but knew there was a good chance I'd move home after school was over. Being school made it lack a permanence for me, that this move has certainly had. Moving here, I knew that it meant I wouldn't be moving back to Michigan. That this was the big step of making a separation from my family, whom I have always been so close to. I'd seen my cousins do it, and I'd also seen some stay in Michigan, but honestly I think I've always known which path I would take. Don't get me wrong, there is something wonderful about Michigan, I do miss being there, but I've never been a real "Michigander". I was never interested in camping or hunting or fishing. I didn't long to go up north every weekend. There are things that Michigan has, but the things I longed for were lacking. A big and bustling city to explore. a place with a more liberal point of view. I've always wanted to live in a big city and knew that was more my speed. So moving to Chicago was something totally different. Also, the reasons behind leaving were different. While I still wanted to move because of the surplus of audition opportunities, I was also moving for my family. Not necessarily my whole family, but the little family that Nick and I have started together. Though we are not yet having kids or getting married, it is so important that we took this step of independence. He'd already taken that step years ago, but now we were taking it as a couple.
This move was hard for me. I made myself sick with anxiety. I got mad at friends and family only because it would be easier to leave if I didn't have too many people I was leaving. Silly as that sounds, it happened. And I'm embarrassed to say that I did it. Clearly, it wasn't intentional, it was something I realized months later. I wasn't expecting this to be easy at all. I know what it's like to move away and knew that I would have some struggles. Having Nick with me was a huge help, I already had someone I knew and loved, and he lived with me so he'd be forced to spend time with me! It was also helpful that I would be living so close to Michigan and could easily come home to visit.
It's taken a long time to feel comfortable here. For a while, the apartment didn't feel like home. It felt like somewhere we were just staying, but after some diy projects, and organization, it finally became a place I love to come home to. We are definitely still decorating. There are lots of things I would like to move, or replace, or paint, etc. But after a year I would definitely say it is now feeling like "ours"
We went from the tough move to a tough job hunt. While Nick immediately had a job, I came here with nothing lined up and no idea what I wanted to do. I went July through September with no job at all. Then I got a part time job at a Francesca's and while I was supper excited, I was working 8 hours a week, or less... I had saved up money thank goodness, but all of that saved up money disappeared into my rent because I was making nothing. Then I moved over to an Irish pub as a "full time" host. I say "full time" because full time was just being scheduled 30 or more hours, even if two shifts were on call shifts that I wouldn't actually be working. So for about seven months, I was making a little over minimum wage and working between 19-35 hours, and usually on the lower end.  All through that time I was desperately searching for another job. I swear to god, I must have put in 500 applications on indeed. And not only that, I got in touch with an employment agency. That plan didn't go as quickly as I thought it would, mostly because I wanted to give notice at the pub. But FINALLY, 11 months after we moved, I finally got placed in a job. In the beginning of this month, I started a temp job with a university in the student finance department, and though it's temp, the hope is that I will get moved to a permanent position here. It definitely didn't go as planned. It took a lot of time, a lot of applications, a lot of frustration, a lot of disappointments, and a few outright rejections, but I can finally say that I am feeling a little more stable financially at least.
Slowly but surely, I'm starting to find my way in the city, both literally and figuratively. I travel the city more. I can kind of navigate public transit. I've done a couple auditions. I got myself healthcare.  I've made new friends and strengthened relationships with old ones. I've dealt with loss and being apart from my family during one of the hardest losses I've ever dealt with.  We've been super broke and I've wondered if I'd have to use all my savings for rent and groceries that month. But I feel like the progress that has been made is huge and there will only be more progress from here on out. I'm still scared. Honestly. Terrified. There is so much more that needs to come before I feel "stable" but hopefully, with this growth that has already happened, I will be able to push forward and keep finding myself and my place here.
I want to end this post with a bit of gratitude for the people and things that have helped me through this journey so far. Family and friends, my cats, my love. The audio books and podcasts I've listened to. The books I've read and journals I've kept. The small things that have kept me sane. Those who have listened to me, encouraged me, challenged me, fought me, shaped me. I'm not an adult yet, but hey, at this rate, maybe when I reach 90 I will be!

And, to anyone who has read my ramblings, thank you.