Why I accepted the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge

It's everywhere. Video after video being posted on social media, highlighted on television and discussed daily. After a few days of seeing the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge videos, I was over it. Maybe it's the fast-paced 20-something in me that constantly needs something new, but the videos were more annoying than anything after a week. Then I got nominated; I really dug in my heals.

As I saw more and more of my friends excepting the challenge, I decided to learn more about this disease that had everyone dumping water on their head. I learned that ALS does not discriminate. It does not know age, race, gender. The hard part is that doctors don't know what causes it; it is a mystery. Those affected by ALS have a hard road ahead. Their life expectancy is two to five years, in which time their body slowly deteriorates until they have to eat through a feeding tube, are confined to a wheelchair, and have to rely on others to use the restroom, sit up and breathe.

The idea of not being able to run, stand up in the kitchen to bake, and walk around to take photos. It's a terrifying and heart-wrenching prospect. I feel so, so blessed to have my health in tact. As if the research didn't have convinced to douse myself with ice water, I then watched the following two videos and my mind was made up. I was accepting the challenge.

Video 1: http://aplus.com/a/anthony-carbajal-ice-bucket-challenge-emotional-video

Video 2: http://espn.go.com/boston/story/_/id/11366772/in-als-fight-pete-frates-message-loud-clear-ice-bucket-challenge

Why moving home after college feels like a failure

I had two major life goals: have a job (or a serious lead) by the time I graduated college and not move home after college. I failed at both. I can't say that I haven't been trying to find a job; I've sent out resumes, follow ups, and reached out to friends and professional. I'm trying, but this is a topic for another time. I want to talk about the latter: moving in with my parents. I've lived at home for 10 days now and seven of those days have been spent on vacation with my parents. 

There's been a strain on my relationship with my parents since I've moved home. Now, I love my parents. My mom and dad are the two most kind-hearted, giving, loving and all-around wonderful people. You can say I'm bias, but, for anyone who has met my parents, you know that they're truly an amazing dynamic duo. I have heard some horror stories about families and I know how blessed I am for my parents to be celebrating their 28th wedding anniversary today (happy anniversary, guys!) and still be as in love as they were on their wedding day. As rockin' as my parents are, any college grad who has moved home after college knows that it's an adjustment. 

I've been "on my own" for four years. Yes, my parents supported me financially, I lived with roommates, and I respected the rules of my dorm, sorority house and apartment complexes, but I haven't had supervision or someone trying to kiss me on the cheek before I go to sleep in four years. I would drive the hour and a half home fairly often and my parents would come visit me at school, and I was always so excited to see them. However, I knew that I'd be back on my own in 48-72 hours. I could deal. 

At this point you might think I soundslike a spoiled brat and I kind of feel like one, but hear me out. After college, where I've just spent four years maturing, growing, and figuring things out on my own, it's hard to establish the line with my parents between my new adulthood and feeling like a little girl having to rely on them for food and shelter because I failed on my first life goal. I'm struggling with feeling like a failure for not being able to find a job (although I admit I'm being picky) and therefore unable to fund my own living arrangements, guilty for having to impose on my parents during their empty-nester excitement/travel phase of life, and embarroussed when people ask me what I'm doing now and I don't really have anything to tell them. It stinks. 

It's been hard for my parents to adjust too. My parents let my brother move home after college and even his fiancé lived at my parents house before they bought a place of their own. Again, we're blessed that my parents gave us the option to move home and live free of rent. They've experienced having a child home again. Somehow though, the situation seems to infuriate me more.... Which makes me feel like even more of a child stomping her feet having a temper tantrum, making me more upset with myself in the end. Cue the failure, guilt and embarrassment feelings round two.

So now that I'm feeling awesome about myself, I want to escape. I want to go back to "my place," but one look at my room, the basement and the bonus room cramped with my stuff and I'm reminded that I don't have that escape anymore. I can outrun my frustration with my parents for a little while, but I always ending my saying something or snapping at the two people who have loved me and supported me every day of my life. Okay, now I really do feel like an ungrateful brat. I hope I've conveyed my love and gratefulness to my parents. Half of the reason I've worked so hard to maintain good grades and give back through philanthropies is to make my parents proud. Through their example and their high standards (athough they've never made me feel pressured to achieve so much), I've accomplished a lot in my 22 years. Yet, when it comes to the big life goals, I've failed not only myself, but my parents as well. I know that my mix of emotions will remain until I can prove to myself, my parents and my friends that I can make it in the real world and I've somehow repaid my parents for all they have given me. Until a land a job with a company I'm passionate about and get back on the life track that I've always strived for, I'm going to be dealing with this life-size sense of failure and working on some breathing exercises or something.