Personal update

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.