I started to write a blog somewhat reflecting on this past year. It seemed like the right thing to do considering that it's January. I deleted it though. It wasn't going anywhere. It was just a lot of rambling about how I feel like nothing has changed this past month. Things have changed though. Some for the better, some for the worse. I think I've grown a lot this past year. I think I've gotten more self aware, if that makes sense. In some ways I'm in the exact same place that I was in last year (mainly in terms of my depression) but in a lot of ways I've changed a lot. I got a job that took me out of the comfort zone of Langham. I bought a condo in Saskatoon and for the first time in my life had complete freedom. I think both of those things have done a lot for me. I feel more confident then I did a year ago. At the same time though I'm not where I want to be. I'm not even talking about my happiness levels here. I am more so talking about my freedom. I need to realize that I'm an adult now. I'm 21. Even though I live on my own I still feel like I'm living with my parents. I think they are having issues accepting that I'm an adult. That's making it pretty hard for me to make the transition to adulthood. If I go a day without talking to them I end up getting facebook messages, phone calls, voice mails left asking me why I didn't call, asking if I'm alright, asking if I died, things like that. I get that they care about me but there is a line. When I do talk to them I get to hear what they ate for lunch and supper, who they talked to, who called them throughout the day, things that quite frankly don't really matter. I feel to bad to tell them that I don't care because I don't want to hurt their feelings, but I feel really suffocated by it all. When I'm 21 and living on my own I shouldn't feel as though I need to ask permission to go somewhere. I can let them know that I'm going somewhere, but I shouldn't have to ask if it's okay. I shouldn't feel guilty for getting together with someone that they wouldn't approve of. I shouldn't have to deal with the lectures of how I shouldn't let friends of mine know where I live because they aren't comfortable with my friendship with the person. I think a lot of this maybe adds to my problems. I'm not saying that I think that all of a sudden everything in my mind would be okay if they would just let go, but I think that it would take some stress off of my life. I keep hoping that as time goes by it'll get easier for them. The longer I'm away from home, the more used to it they will be getting. It seems like every week it gets worse though. Even when I become friends with someone new on facebook I get the third degree about it, how do I know this person, what are they like, where are they from and so on. I shouldn't have to explain everyone of my friends to my parents. I'm just really frusterated about all of this. Work is still tough. It's getting really hard to be doing the shift work, and it's not even shift work where it's the same thing for a week, it's shift work where I work until 7 a.m. one day and the next day start at 6 a.m. That's really starting to take a toll on me. I've talked to a few people about that over the past few days and I think I'm realizing that I really need some consistency in life. I need a job where I know that each week it will be the same hours, or at least close to the same hours. Where I can actually get a scheduled life. Where I can make plans and not have to worry about being called in to work, or worry that two days before the schedule is going to completely change. All I do is sleep and work. I don't really even eat much anymore. When I work a stretch of nights I quite literally don't eat. I will have maybe one meal a day, sometimes all I have in a day is a smoothie. Sometimes I wonder if it's my way of self harm. Rather than cutting or something, I starve myself. It's not like I don't have time to eat. I don't have time to eat three meals a day, but I could probably find time for two meals. For some reason though, I chose not to. In the end of November I had to go to the doctor and I was weighed there. The other week I was at my grandma's place and weighed myself there. I had lost around 15 pounds. I'm not the biggest person to begin with, so I don't think that's really a good thing. I don't know why I choose not to eat. I don't know if I'm punishing myself for some reason. Or if I just want to feel the pain of hunger. I really don't know but it does concern me. Even though I am aware that this is happening, I can't really change it. There is a lot of times that I don't have an appetite. One of my depression side effects is lack of appetite. There are many times though that I do feel hungry and I ignore that until it's either time for my one meal, or until the hunger subsides. Sometimes I will have a snack, most often just a fruit to go or something. This is a strange thing for me since I've always been such a junk food addicted. I just really don't know whats happening. I like to think that if I could find a different job, one that was more scheduled, that everything would get better, but I'm worried about the disappointment that it wouldn't. What if I did somehow get a more scheduled life and things were just as bad as they are now. What would I do then? Things are just so annoyingly messed up.