I've been having such a hard time with the mood swings lately.
My roommate calls it "The 3 Months Rule". Her theory is that everyone who moves to NYC gets really depressed every 3 months until they either eventually fade away and settle into the new life, or finally break down and leave the city.
It's always hard to move to a new place where you don't have any familiar grounds or support system, but NYC seems especially tough for a lot of people. Its notoriety of course draws people from all over the world driving every living cost high and wages low, but another interesting big city "charm" is the coexistence of the extreme opposites. In any given block, there could be multi-million dollar luxury condos standing next to the torn down building and a homeless or two sleeping in front of it. Dark nannies with white babies in luxury strollers, cloud of ballerinas gliding to their classes past loud street performing youths next to a crazy man screaming to himself next to a polished woman carrying a bag that costs my salary.
When I look around me, I feel like it'd almost be a wonder if my mood swings are not the manifestations of my own confusions of this world that I am living in, that I cannot quite make sense of, nor feel comfortable being inside of. One minute I'm fighting so hard not to throw myself down the floor and bawl my lungs out crying, next minute I'm incandescently relishing my life feeling ever so lucky and fabulous. WTF?
I used to love visiting New York, but am I cut out for this life? I used to say no, but I've been trying to make that a yes since the day I got the job offer (the job which I so tenaciously sought after), and the answer changes a million times a day, still.
No doubt this is an experience of a lifetime for anyone, I just hope that in the end, it will have been worth it for me.
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