Ending it.

So I've been trying to decide how to end the blog. It was only supposed to be over the course of a year, a take-down of my life as I tried to regain some sort of control over my own future. Instead of going to California, I ended up staying in Florida until August and, in August, moved to a state that I only thought about when watching 'Pocahantas' - a cold state, filled with horrible traffic and not a single person I knew.

While here, I grabbed a job, I made friends. Good friends, I think. I realized just how much I still had to learn about myself and that in order to do it, I have to step away from the familiar. For the first time in a long time, I finally began to grow up, whether or not anyone could see it, myself included.

When January rolled around and time to end the blog came, I tried to figure out how to end it all. January 2nd was going to be the last day, my 24th birthday. It happened to be the single most miserable birthday I've ever experienced, and I'm including the ones from 9-19 when I was an undiagnosed bipolar disordered person.

I posted nothing, because I couldn't decide what to say. This blog was never popular, only one or two people reading when I made a new post, and that never bothered me. The purpose of this, other than documenting it for myself, was to keep my family in touch with what I was doing in this new place, and how I was doing - Mom, especially, and Ashley.

Mid-January rolled around, and along came the birthday of my best friends late-father, Mr. Larry. He once told me that life itself is an adventure, and that while he loved me, I was doing no one any favors by holing myself up from the world. He said, I was the best friend his daughter had (because boys who were friends would later leave for other girls), I needed to encourage her to grow up along with me, and she would do the same.

He passed away when I was in the depths of my depression, on the verge of suicide. I didn't make it to his funeral, so consumed by my own grief of his passing, and my inability to cope with anything beyond lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. I've never forgiven myself for that.

I like to think Mr. Larry has. Forgiven me, that is. I hope my friend has; we rarely talk about him.

On his birthday, I realized I wasn't ready to put away this blog; it contained a turbulent year of my life, something outside of the depression and the small bubble I kept myself in. Things happened, things changed, I got caught up on bills, of all things. I may be moving out, depending on work circumstances - I may be moving back to Florida, or Wisconsin, or to anywhere I damn well feel like going.

This year is a changing year for reasons outside of last year. My 23rd year on this Earth was taken up by discovery of, damn, I can do things. My 24th started off horribly, and I'm hoping will be filled with discoveries of myself, not just being able to complete things in my life.

So, O Reader(s), there will be another year of this blog. I'm hoping to update more frequently, with more things now going on in my life. Fingers crossed that this year will improve the same way that last year did (Car accident = no Cali = Virginia, Horrible birthday = GOOD YEAR, darnit).

Until next time, with new updates, with new awesome.

Yours.