On Breaking Generational Patterns
Warning: This essay deals with the topics of drinking, addiction, and death by overdose. If you’re not in the right place to read about these things, please skip this one.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about my life and where I want to go from here. I will be thirty-six real years old at the end of July, and I’m moving provinces to go back to school for a master’s degree in archival studies. Having crawled out of the pit of depression a few years back, I realized that my employment prospects were bleak. As a result, I decided it was time to take advantage of that beautiful phenomenon called post-traumatic growth and, well, grow.
I’ve downsized my life considerably in preparation for this change, simultaneously elated and terrified of closing this chapter of my life and stepping into a new one. As I’ve been preparing for the move, I’ve been reviewing my habits and tweaking them to support me in grad school.
For example, I’m on day twenty of thirty days of working out every day to build a habit to manage my mental health. Since I’m moving away from my entire support system and am starting an intense program, I need physical activity to balance my mood and combat stress. It’s the most effective tool I have besides medication in keeping me on an even keel, so I’ve been working to incorporate it into daily life.
