I moved out here 2 years ago. I had no friends. No job. No place to live and not a lot of money. Some people think that’s brave, but I think people do drastic things when everything is ripped out from beneath them.
I found an apartment where I paid a reduced rent and no bills in exchange for taking care of a woman’s handicapped son. I got a job and I spent most of my free time with my ear buds in, walking and working out.
A year later my world was shattered again. Forcing me to question not only myself but the people around me.
Adjusting to my new reality has been excruciating. But I’m living in my own apartment with a garage for an art studio. I’m filling the place with things I’ve made and things I love. Distracting myself from the things I can’t do with the things that I can.
Sometimes I still feel trapped. But sometimes I feel liberated, too.