Tough Choices

Seven. That's how many months it has been since I packed up and moved across the country to the gorgeous Evergreen state.

Six. That's how many months ago I met the beautiful woman whom I love.

Five. That's how many months it has been since my student staff arrived on campus and I began to feel like I loved my job.

Four. That's how many months ago everything started to change.

Three. That's how many months have gone by since I started crying every day after work.

Two. That's how many months ago I started seriously looking for a new job.

One. That's how many months have gone by since I visited the University of Maryland for an on campus interview and when I fell in love with it.

Packing up my entire life to move across the country seven months ago was one of the toughest decisions I have ever made. Deciding that my mental health was not worth sacrificing any more was even tougher.

When you're driving across the country, you have a lot of time to reflect. Over these last few days, I've been trying to pinpoint exactly when everything changed... and I honestly can't. I wonder "was it always this bad and I just ignored the signs?" or "did the shift happen over night?" As a woman, I have often struggled to find my place in the workplace. Am I speaking up enough in meetings or am I speaking up too much? Does it appear that I am working as hard as my male-identifying peers or does it appear that I am working less? Am I finding a good work/life balance or does it seem like I am uncaring? Am I working too much? Am I too intimidating to my peers? All of these things and more run through my head on a daily basis. For a while, I thought my concerns and how I was being treated was normal for a new professional. And then I took a step back and looked at my situation from the outside:

No, it is not normal to cry every night after work. 

No, it is not normal to work every day until 7, 8, 9, 10pm just to feel "caught up."

No, you should not be treated like garbage just because you're new.

No, being treated nicely once or twice DOES NOT make up for all of the shit you've trudged through.

I appreciate the experiences I had in Washington, the people I've met and bonded with, and the important life lessons I've learned.

My biggest takeaways are these:

1) Find incredible people who will laugh with you, even in your darkest hours.

2) No matter how terrible a situation may be, there is always something to laugh about.

3) When you find great people, hold on tight to them, even if you are separated by an entire country.

4) Know your worth. And know when it is time to leave.

and lastly,

5) Moving across the country is all fun and games until you do it twice in seven months...

Nightmares

Do you ever have a reoccurring nightmare? Something you obviously know is a dream, but you are trapped there because you can't wake up?

Growing up, I used to have this nightmare where I was trapped at a gas station. It was always the same dimly lit, Sunoco station and I was alone outside. I was always a young girl, no more than 10 years old. A car would always show up and a tall man, whose face I never saw, would get out of the driver's seat. He would always chase me and try to capture me. I would try to scream, but words never came out. I would run as fast as I could, the pavement disappearing behind me, only to find myself back at the Sunoco station. And right when I would be picked up, I would wake up in a panic.

I haven't had this dream in years. I honestly haven't been able to really ever remember my dreams, aside from this nightmare and a few others.

Most recently, I've been having a different reoccurring nightmare. I am back in junior high school. I am standing in the gym hallway, walking towards the locker room. When I enter it, I cannot find my locker. Eventually, after running down every aisle, I find my locker, but I cannot unlock it. I sit there for what feels like hours, trying to unlock it, but to no avail.

And then I wake up.

I've been trying to figure out why this, a piece of my life that felt so unimportant, would haunt my dreams. Why would Abington Junior High School gym class nightmares follow me through to adulthood? Was my junior high school experience so traumatizing that the locker room will forever scar me?

Maybe the nightmare is symbolism for feeling like I've lost control over things I once thought I had control over. Maybe the nightmare is because I am stressed. Who knows?

I just hope that maybe one day the nightmares will end and I'll be able to sleep through the night peacefully.

Or maybe they won't.