How many times can someone cry in their car on the way home from work before they realize they need to reassess what they’re doing with their life? September 2019 did its very best to find out.

Sure, I started this month with a mental breakdown. (And then had another. And another…) Breakdowns lead to clarity, and after months of cloudy hesitation and wavering goals, clarity is welcome – no matter the form, and definitely no matter how many people peer through the windows of their cars to stare at my wet face. (In hindsight, probably no one.)

I need growth, so bring on the tears.

This month, I turned 24. I booked a spontaneous solo trip to New York City. I created this blog. I found some focus in terms of future projects. I started forging a path to get where I want to go in life. And for the first time in probably 24 years, that path is an honest alignment of my own interests and my own personal expectations and goals, no one else’s.

But man, did I cry a lot. And as Septembers usually go, it was exactly what I needed.

The breakdowns, as many as they were, stemmed from the same thing: my career. I know I’m in a bad fit. I’ve known that since I interviewed. I’ve known that since my first internship in high school. So why cry so much now? I think it’s because, before, I didn’t have an alternative option. Why not get experience while I figure myself out?

What that really means is, why not continue to ignore what you actually want to do in favor of the societally-expected path?

One of these days I’ll be brave enough to put my foot down and stand up for myself and my instincts before I get dragged into doing whatever toxic thing everyone thinks is “best” for me. One of these days I’ll be able to adequately hold on to my own opinions of what I need to do, and one of these days, I’ll have the courage to pursue it without thinking about their opinions.

Because honestly, what I wanted to do then is the same as what I want to do now, except this time, I’ve let myself say it out loud. I’ve let myself view it as viable job option.

But now, it feels I’m stuck. I’m not, I know. Logically, I just put in a two weeks notice, don’t give them or their opinions a second thought. But how do I afford rent? How would I move all my stuff home? Would it even all fit in my childhood room? Would I be strong enough to continue wholeheartedly pursing what I love while I’m in an environment that doesn’t value it?

Will I be strong enough to place my own value on it regardless, and hold it closer to my chest than anything I ever have before?

I don’t know. I really don’t. Hence the breakdowns.

I will say though, nothing is more comforting than panic-crying for an hour before deciding to try out your new tarot deck, and then pulling out the Ace of Swords as your first ever tarot card.

Now, do I believe in tarot? Another “I don’t know.” I purchased the deck because the last time I felt I had my life together was during my Salem witch trials-obsessed phase – so why not try and spark that phase again by purchasing a tarot deck from Salem? (From a really cute, female-owned shop, too.)

But you know what I do believe in? Comfort. And nothing is more comforting than pulling a card that’s telling you you’re going to triumph. Especially after you’ve been hyperventilating your life isn’t going to go anywhere, and worrying over what will happen when you quit your job for the unknown.

And you know what? If the universe says I’m going to be successful, I’m not going to question it.

I mean, I did connect with a family member I’ve never met before who offered me a chance to maybe, possibly help out as a production assistant on one of her short films. And maybe, possibly is more promising than anything I’ve had in years.

It’s also the first time I’ve been genuinely excited thinking about a job.

And this month, I finished the first draft of my second ever screenplay. Sure, it’s just another short film, and after I edit it, I doubt it’ll be anything more than 13 pages. But I completed it. And it’s mine. And honestly, the production scope seems low enough that I could plausibly film it myself, given two strong actors and a proper microphone.

Continuing along the writing front, I also visited Barnes & Noble with the intention to pick up a nice, witchy, thrilling fall read for next month. And not only did they not have that, they didn’t seem to have any fall thrillers. Which is surprising, first of all, but second of all, led me to realize that the book I was searching for is literally the book I’ve been working on this year.

So, like, I gotta get on that.

No, seriously. I feel a renewed inspiration to finish St. Agatha’s. I feel like I stopped for a while because I wasn’t quite sure where the plot was going. Well, and also because sitting in a cubicle staring at a computer screen for 40 hours a day just drained all my energy and joy. But now I have to finish it – if only to have a book I can read in October!

Another birthday month gone and went. But this year, I really feel I know where I’m going for 24. More so than I ever did. And it only took half a dozen breakdowns to get to this state.

In the meantime, I’ll be over here panicking about the fellowship application (this is the last possible day before “by October” seems to pass?) and stressing about traveling alone. But hey, if those lead to a few more breakdowns, I won’t complain. I’ll be thankful.