Life

Twenty Five

I’ve officially been 26 for a little over 48 hours and as the hangover fades, I find myself feeling a little reflective on the past year. There was some good, some bad, some ugly and a shit ton of realizations. So without further ado, here’s a little recap of how year 25 went (don’t worry, there’s a happy ending). 

25 started off like any other birthday. Drunk. 

I downed bottomless mimosas at Herringbone with some of my closest friends and ended up in PB, sealing my fate as a member of the quarter-life crisis club. Perfect.

While the birthday itself was great, I had a few underlying life things to deal with. Just a few weeks before the big birthday, the company I work for went through a reorganization. Every department was expected to make cuts, and my department was no different. With my career somewhat up in the air and some other work-related things I won’t get into, I freaked out. Even after I ended up surviving the reorg, the uncertainty and rebuilding that needed to be done as a company was stressful and extremely daunting. That stress lasted long through the my 25th birthday and for many months after. 

Somewhere between stressing about work, life and the election, I managed to develop increased insomnia and got vertigo for the third time in a little over a year. When I say insomnia, I mean literally not sleeping (like, at all). When I say vertigo, I mean extreme dizziness. Cue more stress and a heavy dose of nightly anxiety.

I have to say I don’t reveal this garbage health stuff for sympathy. I talk about it because I felt like such a jackass for the better part of the last year after feeling like no one else understood or identified with what I was going through. Come to find out, some of my closest friends shared my same struggles. Go figure. 

Thankfully, things started turning around in December. I went on an epic San Francisco trip with my girls, work started calming down, and I finally found a doctor who understood what I was going through. I was prescribed some anti-anxiety meds for sleep and got checked out from top to bottom to make sure my vertigo wasn’t part of a more serious problem (it wasn’t – yay). 

Plus, 2016 wasn’t all bad. I dressed up as a pickle for Halloween, went to the San Diego Bay Wine & Food Festival and a bunch of other events, had a fabulous New Year’s Eve (where I’m still not cursed) and spent a ton of time with family. 

At the very end of the year, my boss at work ended up leaving (which made me sad), and I got promoted (which made me not as sad). 

I started 2017 with a new position at work, some answers with what was going on with my health, and a renewed feeling of positivity. Boom baby. I also went to Disneyland, saw the Backstreet Boys in Vegas, ate countless delicious meals, reunited with old friends and did a tiny little London trip (check out part 1 and part 2). 

While the year started off great, I couldn’t help the fact that I was like, realizing things. Even though I’d found a ton of answers last year, as 2017 continued, I started realizing my anxiety wasn’t completely gone. I also realized I suck at drinking now (apparently I’m not in college anymore). It’s weird when you realize you need to change your habits to make yourself happier, but that’s what I recently decided needed to happen. It’s a work in progress. 

That being said, my 26th birthday came and went and the #1 thing I realized this year is that everyone goes through shit. People may have more or less shit than you, but bottom line is you can always find someone who can identify with your own special brand of shit. 

If you’re as lucky as I am, the people who deal with your own special brand of shit are there with you one year later drinking bottomless mimosas (just at El Camino this time). 

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