The One About Celine Dion and the YMCA.

One summer when Martha and I were very young, my mom signed us up for a week of day camp at the YMCA in Waxahachie, Texas. (This camp was also where I learned what a "Christian" was and that I actually am one, if that gives you any inkling of how young I really was.) We'd never been to anything like it before and really had no idea what to expect... except that it was going to be "so fun," Mom said.

We got official camp t-shirts, new shorts and shoes, and Mom packed our lunches. The night before the camp started, I remember Martha and I twiddling our thumbs all night long. We were so looking forward to YMCA Summer Day Camp. We were going to make new friends and play games and swim and learn new things and eat Lunchables (this was a luxury to us). We were up all night long because we could hardly handle the excitement. I even remember Mom waking up and realizing we were awake as well. She laughed and said, "Did you girls sleep at all?"

That's one of the two times I ever remember that happening.

The only other time was Christmas Eve 1999 when I knew I was going to get Celine Dion's "All the Way... a Decade of Song" CD (Martha spoiled the surprise - sorry, Mom). I had watched Celine's concert featuring the songs on the CD in November and was highly anticipating holding that disc in my hands come Christmas Day. It seemed like ages before the sun rose with enough excuse to wake Roy, Martha, Mom and Dad up. I lived for what the morning held. I needed those late-90's jams.

Of course I tore away the festive paper and there she was. Celine did not disappoint (she never did). The agony of those eight hours waiting for everyone to wake up was totally worth it.

Today, I have officially been in the city for two months. These two months have been a roller coaster of feelings, the highest highs and the lowest lows. And I know I ain't seen nothin' yet.

WARNING: You are about to enter into the Red Zone. The Red Zone isn't happy-go-lucky or even optimistic. I'm not holding anything back. Sometimes hard things happen, and I feel safe sharing it here. But at the end of the Red Zone is optimism. I promise.

A week ago Thursday, I was in the dumps. I feel like, before that day, I'd been able to look at things and keep a fire burning in me because "trials make us stronger" and that "it's all part of the process." But I was so sad, so lonely, so over it. That day, my friend Dalton and I had a short conversation over text. He asked, "How are you?" I said, "I'm in a mood." He said, "Can I call you later?" I said, "Sure."

Just an hour or two later, he did call, but I missed it. (And part of me thinks I was supposed to miss it, because now I have this voicemail saved on my phone that I won't be deleting.) In short, he said this: "I don't want you to be bummed. And maybe this has nothing to do with it, but I feel like I should just remind you about patience... I know you're away from your friends and you miss them, but you have people that love you, and the things that you're starting here, in even just a few months... you're going to look back and be like, 'this happened so fast.' It's gonna be great. Just keep observing and learning on your way there." I listened to it again tonight to quote it, and I grinned because I have one hell of a friend.

I went to sleep late that night and woke up after an hour or so feeling horribly sick. I had cold sweats and was throwing up. So... I was sad, lonely, over it, and sick as a dog. I spent the entire following day in bed, only getting up to use the restroom or force down some crackers and water. I read a little bit. I watched a movie. But most of the day I just sat on my thoughts.

I laid in bed and nitpicked every audition I'd gone to and reasoned with myself why I wasn't called back. I made it all personal. I laid in bed and asked myself if I'm crazy for being here. I laid there and cried. I told myself I wasn't pretty enough or skinny enough or charming enough or talented enough or lucky enough or empowering enough or perky enough or nice enough. I told myself I just wasn't enough and that I didn't deserve it. And I let that idea trickle into every other aspect of my life, too: friendships and relationships, spirituality, dating, you name it.

I also came to the sad conclusion that things weren't exciting me in my life. I wasn't letting myself get excited about auditions anymore because I would either be turned away from the audition entirely or nothing would come of it. I wasn't excited about dating. I wasn't excited to see my friends because my closest friends aren't here. I wasn't excited about work. I wasn't excited about singing because my voice was killing me.

I. Wasn't. Excited. And I have always had something to be excited about. But suddenly, in a day's time, I was indifferent about life.

The truth? It was an absolutely toxic day in the life of Angela Jeffries. The last time I'd had a day like that, truly, was over seven years ago. I've had hard days, sure, but not wallowing days. Not toxic ones.

It's always hard to bounce back from being sick, everyone knows that. This was no exception. Come Saturday, I wasn't throwing up anymore, but I was exhausted, negative, sad, lonely, and still over it. And I still wasn't enough. For anyone or anything.

I remember thinking before I came out here that there might come a time when I would hit a wall. Well, it happened. And I took a few days of beating my head against said wall, but then I was desperate to climb over it.

Last Friday was damaging, but not irreparable. I wallowed for several days. Yesterday, though, I made a conscious decision to smile more, to be more positive, to look up at the buildings, to just be okay with just being, and to cut myself some slack. I also made a very conscious decision to say to myself, corny as this may sound, "You are enough. You will always be enough."

And then the most amazing thing happened: I woke up this morning with a pep in my step that I haven't had since the first day I arrived in New York when I got off that plane. I woke up wanting to seek out every audition I could. I woke up wanting to connect with my friends here. I woke up wanting to explore more. When I woke up this morning, I was better. I am better. I AM EXCITED.

Things here are hard; I've emphasized that before. But I know that there is something just around the corner, though the corner may be months or years or decades or worlds away. I don't know when or what; I can't know... but I am going to just seize the day and stop worrying about it. (I am SUCH a feeler, and I recognize that all of this could just be viewed as cliche hoopla to some... but I'm really not going to worry about that, either.)

Just like those sleepless nights I had when I was younger with day camp and Celine Dion, I am awake in the middle of the night DYING to reach morning and the gift or the fun that is there. It's so close I can taste it, but I have to be patient. My agonizing over the hours spent waiting won't make things move along any faster. In fact, the agonizing might even slow things down.

I'll know that I am enough. I'll take the hard things as they come and relish in what I might learn from them, just like Dalton said. I will allow them to excite me, because whatever "morning" is, (and I expect to experience "morning" and "Celine Dion" and "day camp" over and over again in more things than just performing; I expect it in love, in friendships, in spirituality, in family, in every little thing), I know that the time it takes to get there will be totally worth it.