I spent the better part of this afternoon packing up the rest of my room, so that after my parents come and pick it all up tomorow, all I'll have left here are enough clothes for three weeks, my bed (which I'm trying to sell online... no luck yet. wah!!), mini dresser and nightstand (which my roommate is buying from me), and... well... my computer I guess.

As I took apart my desk and my room started to really look emptier, I started to feel a bit sad. I honestly don't much remember moving in - it's been two years and it all had started to feel like home. Yet at the same time I can't believe this has been my home for two entire years.

I didn't elaborate on my resignation day - I guess I haven't yet been able to sort my thoughts out completely. It feels a bit surreal to be getting ready to say goodbye to my entire life in NYC in three short weeks. While I know I've grown considerably in the three years I've spent here, and have learned immeasurably valuable lessons, I am also leaving with a feeling of empty-handedness - like all of my endeavors here have ended without fruition. I've never been promoted in a job; they have all ended in some form of bitterness.

I don't like that.

And it's made me doubt my ability to succeed, both professionally and personally. Why haven't I been able to flourish in any of these environments? I think I'm smart, and capable, adaptable, proactive, motivated. Why haven't I been able to prove myself?

In the past month I've begun to wonder if I'm depressed. I've been depressed before and this doesn't feel like the past, but something about the general cloud over my head is leading me to question my overall happiness. My energy level is not up to par, and my enthusiasm for life seems... misdirected.

I'm sad to leave this chapter of my life. I'm not regretful, or reluctant - just wistful, and looking very much forward to big steps in this coming year.