the easy way out?

I suppose it's high time for an update, given the last time I had a heart-to-heart with myself. These past few months have taken quite a toll on me, though I remained oblivious until someone else had to point it out. That someone happened to be my parents, who made it painfully clear that the child they once knew, the happy, cheerful, and quick-witted version of me, had seemingly vanished. In her place, they saw only an overworked corporate drone, a shell of the person I used to be.

It didn't truly hit me just how dire the situation had become until my parents uttered those fateful words: "You need to leave." At first, I assumed they meant leave for work, but it wasn't just about employment. It was about losing my financial security, about struggling to pay rent, and ultimately, it meant returning to the place I thought I'd left behind when I embarked on my six-year journey into adulthood in the bustling city.

When the phrase "just quit" escaped my mother's lips, I felt an incredible weight lift off my shoulders, and my eyes welled up with tears of relief. No more financial responsibilities, no more monetary constraints, and no more agonizing over what meal I could afford without revisiting the same tired options I'd grown sick of. But then came the creeping realization: I was elated, yes, but was I truly prepared to abandon it all, to return to a place I no longer recognized as the home of my childhood?

Despite my reservations, I made the choice to go through with it. The more I contemplated, the more I feared I might lose the courage to follow through. People described me as "bold" when they learned I'd quit my job without a backup plan. So, since that moment, I've spent countless hours clicking the "apply" button on job websites, sending out resumes, and enduring endless rounds of "tell me about yourself" questions.

The city had been my home for six transformative years, and severing that connection felt like an immense sacrifice. I wasn't quite ready to bid it farewell, but I also didn't want to bear the heavy burden of adulthood, as they say.