Day 191

When you get lost, how do you know what direction to go?

Moving in any direction was better than where I was before.

After moving back to my hometown of Yonkers, I was severely downed. Years of friends, income, and familiarity was gone the minute I stepped foot in my new room, but I was still determined to push forward like the hospice patient I thought I was. Efforts to make new friends didn't compare to the friendships I made back then, I lasted a day at a new job, and my usual hobbies felt time-consuming. Nothing was working.

My only other friend at the time who lived in my hometown went AWOL. We went from friends that could talk for hours and never get bored of each other to strangers that you’d see next to you in a hospital bed. My only remedy was breaking curfew often to this spot by the riverside, where I'd ponder for hours hoping for a glimpse of hope in what felt like comatose.

One day, I was pondering going to a bowling arena with some family members. I was hesitant because of the ongoing struggle to find contentment in anything at the time, but ultimately decided to go despite believing I wouldn’t enjoy it. When we got there, we decided to end up going to the arcade nearby as the lines got too long. After stowing away, my family members invited me to try the Boxing machine.

My intuition took a sharp turn, telling me to put everything I had into this punch; I put every ounce of fiber into that hit.
It felt indescribably refreshing, almost like my dread the entire month was a big hibernation and I had just woken up. But the high didn't stop there. A long shot suggestion to head to NYC was thrown around and, not thinking much of it, I agreed. Some of the things I experienced along the way were one of a kind that only the city could provide - nightlife scenery, sublime food, and unforgettable memories. I went to bed on time and never went hungry with food at arms reach the day after that.