13 August 2019, Will Rogers Park, 12:40pm

Times of immense anxiety and stress have brought me to this perfect place.

This is a place of my childhood; family gatherings before holiday feasts, celebrating a beautiful sunshine-filled day, or simply getting some fresh air. This is the place where I’ve found solidarity and freedom after days, weeks, or even months that were riddled with self-doubt.

Where I live in this mad city has been dubbed a “Bubble.” Comfortable to a fault; predictable, stagnant. Unless you’re a family of 2.5 children with a beachfront property, a newly-wed, straight out of grad school, or a hopeless romantic with the intentions of finding the “one,” the Bubble isn’t the place for a blunt yet spontaneously spunky 23 year old like myself.

There are times I find it difficult to escape, mentally and physically. I get so wrapped up in my own psyche that half the time I’m scaring myself into a full blown meltdown. Where is the sanity in that? Why do I self-inflict? Why do I allow fear to envelope me?

I’ve found that these days of pride and confidence follow the lowest of days; the days of self-deprecation and troubling thoughts where I feel incredibly isolated. It prompts me to pack up my Jetta and get out of dodge. The goal was to ultimately leave the world behind me and start over; find a place where no one knows my name, but I know that won’t solve anything.

Whenever this is the case, I’ve found that I need to be aware of whenever I get myself into these states. I need to be able to get the hell out of my head. Whatever “I am” will follow me wherever I go. Whatever I allow will embody itself. Whatever I choose to believe will be the reality I seek.