My depression has been at bay for some time. After a serious two-year
bout when I was on and off antidepressants and not able to get out of
bed, I’m happy to say I’m at a content place right now. I find – for
myself – that external factors seem to make my moods go up and down.
Being the perfectionist that I am (which I am working on), the external
factors, for the most part, have been to my advantage or liking. My
trouble comes when external factors are not to my liking – this is when
I will be tested.
    I am very fortunate. I am originally from
New York and now am a transplanted Pennsylvanian. (I don’t like to
think of myself that way because I am so much NY love.) Pennsylvania
and New York are very different, although I like to think of
Philadelphia as NY Jr. or NY lite. It is much bigger than the 3-mile
wide island called Manhattan and there is almost as much to do –
possibly more simply because of its size. However, the attitudes are
vastly different. Philly, the City of Brotherly Love, seems to have
little Brotherly Love of any kind. Philly fans do not hesitate to boo
their team when they are losing or do not hesitate to heckle any fan
wearing a Terrell Owens shirt who’s probably “not with it.” I’ve
learned a new way to order cheesesteaks. “With or without.” No mention
of cheese, though.
    I’ve learned to love the Main Line, which is
where I live. The towns are quaint, formed on either side of the SEPTA
(Southeastern Pennsylvania Transportation Authority) line. Many of them
boast antique shops and design centers. (I’m proud to boast that my
mother-in-law is a designer.) The Main Line is a quiet pocket of
activity and style that many people in New York seem to miss. The
prices can be comparable to or cheaper than New York and here’s a tip:
tax is cheaper.
    Wawas have comfortably enveloped my heart like a
good hoagie (7-11’s have now fallen out of favor with me.) and John’s
Pizza (630 Lancaster Ave. in Frazer, PA) have the best cheesesteaks
along the Main Line. If you’ve gone there, let me know.
    So I’m
handling this transplanted Philadelphian thing quite well. I lived in
Kentucky from September 2005-April 2006 and didn’t handle that
transition nearly as well. But for a plethora of reasons other than the
fact that it was Kentucky: worked a job when I never saw my husband,
didn’t have any friends, never had time for myself, rarely saw family,
etc. At one point, I ended up working 50-60 hours a week to get the job
done. For some people, this is a normal occurrence, but I am not
working in the medical or corporate field so that many hours were
completely unnecessary. It was an experience I needed to have to put my
life in perspective.

1 Comment

  1. Kua said,

    January 1, 2009 at 8:12 pm

    “My trouble comes when external factors are not to my liking – this is when I will be tested.”
    Gosh I can really relate to this. I’m afraid right now I’m failing the test and I feel utterly powerless to change these ‘factors’.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: