Mental Health Wednesday 2.0|Everything I owned was thrown away — Minimalist Living.
by Dori Nicole
I can take the easy route and do everything social media style and post all of the glorious beach side pictures I’ve acquired since I’ve last written, make my life seem as if I suddenly crawled out of my depressive dungeon and landed smack dab into the land of sunshine and bike riding. I could Make it seem as if I fell asleep in the desert and woke up on the beach and life is going smooth again…
However, this is a blog and what I find that a lot of blogs and social media outlets are missing is the nitty gritty truth of what life has thrown at that person. We all know it never is all sunshine and roses and the reality of things is that most of us have to crawl through fire to “all of a sudden” end up in what seems like a glamorous life through photos and micro blogging. It can be understood that lots of online ‘brands’ are struggling so hard to just put things out on a consistent basis on several platforms to keep things going, the reasons they began creating content in the first place falls to the wayside. That reason was usually for enjoyment, for therapy, to help themselves and others on their journey but as things blossom into a brand that is paying the bills the pressure to keep that specific brand together takes a toll on the honesty that first came along with the humble beginnings.
I want to exhibit my truth.
I kind of fell asleep in the desert & woke up on the sunny October beaches of Southern California
If you follow me on instagram (@OD.NICOLE) mainly used as my photography outlet more so than story telling, it seems kind of like bam! I moved to a paradise easily. Truth of the matter is, I had to. (BTW: all photos are from my cellphone. My bulky dslr was one of the things I let my family babysit until further notice.)
And yes I had to move in order to keep my stress down, my depression leveled, and to cheer up from a bad year, but the real truth was that I had nowhere else to stay. I’ve been jokingly calling myself a hobo based upon how my adult life has been but it does bear some truth. I have always been a wanderer, an itinerant, a vagabond. Places excite me, new energies intrigue me and one of my greatest passions is living multiple lives in my one life.
Post car accident I was not able to work and still haven’t and it is coming up on 3 months. The injury is keeping me out of the line of work I was pursuing as a restaurant chef and in a strange limbo where I’m trying to figure out what else I would like to do that is light work or ways I can generate income independently until I figure things out. In short, I wasn’t able to afford the apartment I was living in on my own anymore and neither could my boyfriend. So, he tested out a job offer in the L.A area and found a better lifestyle down in Long Beach a month ago and then, two weeks ago, he landed an apartment and we moved in last week. That still sounds easy and it kind of all happened fast for us as well, however it was life.
The lifestyle here in Long Beach is suited to perfection for me. Everything I could ever need is in walking distance : the beach, grocery, vegan & vegetarian restaurants, chiropractors, cold-pressed juice bars, farmers markets, buses, bike shops, the train to Los Angeles, laundromats & funky thrift stores. Once we are at our new home, the car pretty much stays parked and collects dust until my boyfriend has to head to work. Otherwise we use our feet and, soon, my bike & his skateboard.
Our apartment is extremely old and is about as big as our living room was back in Northern California. It’s a tiny old studio apartment built in the 1950’s with lots of character, good vibes, loud neighbors & a friendly cat that enjoys free food, head scratches, and casual strolls through all of the tenants apartments
. To get here in his tiny car took lots of trash throwing and panic attacks on the road but we are safely here.
We threw away our couches, our clothes, our things. We threw away brand new items and old things we hadn’t seen in awhile. We gave away our bed, our pots, our pans, kitchen items and tools, We threw away a bunch of things we didn’t mean to because we were so fatigued and stressed out that we kind of just said f*ck it and focused on getting back to our new home. Precious items to me like my sketchbook and piles of opened and unopened art supplies I often used for therapy has to be re-bought. We were pulled over by cops, we busted a tire, bought a new one, and almost got into yet another wreck. Now we are in our tiny old apartment using a cooler full of ice as our fridge and sleeping on the floor which, supposedly, is better for my back anyway. We’ll see about that. As of now I feel as if It is worse on my body but research says it’s something I have to get use to before it gets better.
So it does kind of seem like I just landed here in a paradise at what couldn’t be a better point in my life. I need this for as long as it lasts because it is very true that it is hard to maintain a mind prone to stress while living near a beach. The ocean just seems to wash away all fear and bad thoughts. It’s almost like a brain wash mechanism that makes me forget that my rough year ever happened; that all of the struggles were not and are not happening but they have happened and some still are happening but thats life. I’ll take this transition for as long as it lasts.
The calm is what I need.
Thanks for the support