tadano
Oct 27, 2008, 10:13 PM
I've recently been doing a lot of thinking and thought I might turn here for advice (sorry in advance for the lengthy post). I feel very uncomfortable talking about this with people I know, because it seems like I'm complaining about a life that a lot of people would kill for. And that's not what I intend.
I am in my early 20s, living in New York City since I graduated college. I like it a lot, and I'm not just saying that. I have a bunch of friends here, and I'm constantly busy. What's more, at 23 years old, I already have what I consider my dream job as a journalist. I make a fair amount of money to survive in this expensive city, I get to travel a lot (which I love), and never once in nearly two years have I ever thought, "Damn, I really don't want to get up and go to work tomorrow." Obviously work is work, but I love what I do. And if I could pick any realistic job for this point in my life, this would be it.
My job, however, is the reason I have to be in New York. And New York is the reason that, despite everything, I still feel unhappy. It's not the city -- I love it. It's the fact that nearly all of my closest friends live back in my home state, and though it's not particularly far away, my work schedule prevents me from visiting as much as I'd like to. And I admit I'd like to a lot. When I go back home, I see all my friends bonding in a way that I can't do in New York, while I'm kicking it here relatively alone. They have a type of fraternity that I can't crack, because I live so far away. My heart longs for their type of life, but my head knows that to get it, I would have to give up everything I have in New York -- most importantly, this job that I've always wanted.
At first, I thought this was all just regular homesickness. I get homesick relatively easily, and had a tough time adjusting to college (and though I eventually liked it a lot, I wouldn't consider it the "best four years" of my life). But I've lived in NYC for almost two years now, and the pangs that I feel haven't dulled at all. They subside a bit when I'm in the city for a while, and especially when I'm on the road for work (which has been kind of an escape for me). But every time I go back home to visit, they come roaring back, and I'm hit with waves of nostalgia. I think it's fair to call them bouts of depression.
I've come to realize all this, and so I've tried to force myself to stay away from home a little bit. I'm not very good at that, though. I'm close with my family and obviously very close with the friends I have there, so I take mostly every opportunity I get to go home (maybe once every three weeks or so). It's funny, because I'm the type of person where, although I like NYC and everything about it, I don't need it. I'm just as happy in a small town as I am in a big one, as long as I'm with the people closest to me. And I just feel like, for all the great experiences I'm getting here, I'm missing out on a different set of experiences back home. I just feel like I belong there a little more than I belong here.
I don't want to waste my early- to mid-20s being unhappy. But like I said, to move back home, I'd have to give up my dream job for something that likely pays less, and that I'll almost certainly enjoy less. It's not something that I'm seriously considering doing, but I still can't stop those thoughts from constantly seeping into my head. And it's affecting my mental health to a significant degree.
Anyway, thanks to anyone who read this to end. Perhaps some of you have insights or a perspective that I don't. If nothing else, it was important for me to get all this off my chest.
I am in my early 20s, living in New York City since I graduated college. I like it a lot, and I'm not just saying that. I have a bunch of friends here, and I'm constantly busy. What's more, at 23 years old, I already have what I consider my dream job as a journalist. I make a fair amount of money to survive in this expensive city, I get to travel a lot (which I love), and never once in nearly two years have I ever thought, "Damn, I really don't want to get up and go to work tomorrow." Obviously work is work, but I love what I do. And if I could pick any realistic job for this point in my life, this would be it.
My job, however, is the reason I have to be in New York. And New York is the reason that, despite everything, I still feel unhappy. It's not the city -- I love it. It's the fact that nearly all of my closest friends live back in my home state, and though it's not particularly far away, my work schedule prevents me from visiting as much as I'd like to. And I admit I'd like to a lot. When I go back home, I see all my friends bonding in a way that I can't do in New York, while I'm kicking it here relatively alone. They have a type of fraternity that I can't crack, because I live so far away. My heart longs for their type of life, but my head knows that to get it, I would have to give up everything I have in New York -- most importantly, this job that I've always wanted.
At first, I thought this was all just regular homesickness. I get homesick relatively easily, and had a tough time adjusting to college (and though I eventually liked it a lot, I wouldn't consider it the "best four years" of my life). But I've lived in NYC for almost two years now, and the pangs that I feel haven't dulled at all. They subside a bit when I'm in the city for a while, and especially when I'm on the road for work (which has been kind of an escape for me). But every time I go back home to visit, they come roaring back, and I'm hit with waves of nostalgia. I think it's fair to call them bouts of depression.
I've come to realize all this, and so I've tried to force myself to stay away from home a little bit. I'm not very good at that, though. I'm close with my family and obviously very close with the friends I have there, so I take mostly every opportunity I get to go home (maybe once every three weeks or so). It's funny, because I'm the type of person where, although I like NYC and everything about it, I don't need it. I'm just as happy in a small town as I am in a big one, as long as I'm with the people closest to me. And I just feel like, for all the great experiences I'm getting here, I'm missing out on a different set of experiences back home. I just feel like I belong there a little more than I belong here.
I don't want to waste my early- to mid-20s being unhappy. But like I said, to move back home, I'd have to give up my dream job for something that likely pays less, and that I'll almost certainly enjoy less. It's not something that I'm seriously considering doing, but I still can't stop those thoughts from constantly seeping into my head. And it's affecting my mental health to a significant degree.
Anyway, thanks to anyone who read this to end. Perhaps some of you have insights or a perspective that I don't. If nothing else, it was important for me to get all this off my chest.