Hello, from Barcelona.
I’ve moved once again and before I go on an enormous rant about how I move cities/countries and/or jobs every one to six months, I’m going to stop myself. Yes, I feel like a flake and somewhat of a loser, but in my defence I am trying to find myself. I’ve experienced a job I love in a city I hate, and a job I hate in a city I love. Now, I’m finding the perfect fit so that I can continue to be inspired.
While I feel somewhat inspired right now (Barcelona is fucking fantastic. I look up at the architecture every day and feel utterly speechless at the beauty), I know that I haven’t found what I am looking for. It often leaves me feeling uneasy, incomplete, lonely, and or sad.
I went home to South Africa about a month ago and it was weird. I wasn’t bright eyed, I wasn’t like a tourist in my own city. In fact, I barely felt a thing… until I stood at the boarding gate with my brother. He could see something was missing. He felt something that I hide from the world.
What is it though?
I felt that feeling in the upper half of my chest that I get when men break up with me. I would say it was my heart that was aching, but we all know that isn’t literally it. The feeling can only be described as a physical cry out for help, from the inside out. It’s a selfish feeling for it will not allow you not to cry – regardless of circumstances, where you are or who you are with. That feeling doesn’t care about you.
I sat in the chair on the left, as naturally it’s been determined that people of a powerful stature sit on the right, not expecting to feel that ache again. Breathing does not help it, walking does not help it. Crying extensively just does not help it. Time helps, but time is a fickle thing. It “doesn’t have the time to give you all the answers to the never-ending ‘why?‘”. Why am I special that I get to complain about my rejection? My doctor has me on anti-depressants. I am depressed, so thus I am allowed to complain. I am allowed to justify that I feel things a lot more than what you do merely because I am “depressed”[this is utter bullshit].
Before I end my ridiculous rant that is illegible, I pose you these questions: What is life to you? Do you move cities and countries in hope to find your happy ending? Do you feel as though you’re constantly running at warp speed trying to find something? Is that a normal feeling? Is it normal to feel as though you’re being kicked in your phantom balls nearly every single day because you clearly are not good enough to compete with the rest of them? Maybe I’ve lied to myself so much that I actually believe the running is good. I don’t need anyone, I was born alone and I will most certainly die that way.
I won’t lie – the OCD in me makes sure that I post on this blog at least once a month so that I can keep up my months in the archive list. I have missed one month, somewhere along the line, but I’m just pretending that didn’t happen.
It’s February! And after much uncertainty, I am still at my writing job in London and I am still absolutely thriving and loving it. It makes such a difference to your life when you love what you do.
I really do love that people are still reaching out to me about their worries and or concerns about moving to Korea in terms of their weight, and I am always happy to help out when possible – so keep the messages coming.
Things really are just great at the moment. I have nothing to complain about and if you know me, you’ll know that’s rare. It’s liberating to not be angry, annoyed or upset every day.
I still sometimes pinch myself to see if this is all a dream, but it’s not. I’ve made it. I couldn’t be happier with my life.
Before January gets away from me – I wanted to express the weird feeling that I have right now – it’s happiness. This is so strange for me – for the first time in my life I absolutely love my job and it’s made the world of different to my life.
After teaching in the UK for four months – and being utterly miserable the entire time, I thought maybe I was stuck in this career. I took a shot and have now got a new job as a writer in London. This is what I have always wanted!
This is such a great feeling.
After almost three weeks, I am finally in a place that I can call ‘home’ … until July 6th.
I moved to England on June, 1st and it’s been one hell of a rollercoaster. It’s the hardest career/life move that I have ever had to do. Some might argue how that could possibly be – in Korea, everything is handed to you. Yes, you don’t understand the language or the culture but you arrive there with a job and an apartment (that your school pays for) and you earn a cushy salary.
The first job I had here lasted all but five days! After that, I had no where to live, no job and really not a lot of money. I moved from city to city to sleep on friend’s couches etc and managed to meet a guy who, apparently, is taking me to Prague or Barcelona in two weeks! Life has been nothing short of exciting.
I am now working as a TEFL teacher for adult Europeans and South Americans and it really is lots of fun. The commuting is a bitch and my feet throb every day, but – it’s all a change. I have interviews coming up for full time teaching in the Fall!
Regardless of circumstances, I have no anxiety and I don’t dread every day. It feels good to be out of that hole.
I felt weird last night. It happened around 5:30pm and it felt as though I was high or out of it. I went home and had no energy to do small tasks. I got in bed around 7 o’ clock and felt completely out of it throughout the night, too. I woke up feeling OK but down. I went to work and as soon as I got there, it was as if I was about to implode or have a panic attack. The office made me feel claustrophobic like the people, movement and walls were just overwhelming me. I moved to a quiet place and breathed deep and fast. I was waiting for a massive panic attack but it didn’t come, only something that felt like a mini attack. I cried a little and felt embarrassed that my co worker had seen me so vulnerable. I’ve never had a panic attack or feelings of that nature in public (for that I am grateful), but today – it was as if this disease hindered my ability to work and participate in every day life. It was crippling. I didn’t want to go home, I wanted to feel OK and carry on with my work. I couldn’t be there a second longer, though. I went home early. I feel ashamed and angry at myself about this. I feel flat now.
“So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I’m still trying to figure out how that could be.” – Perks of Being a Wallflower.
This quote oddly sums up how I’ve been feeling my entire life.
I haven’t been on here for a while. Things at work are so much better. I’m feeling so good about the fact that I could have that awkward talk with a co worker, which, ultimately, changed the entire course of my job. Feeling productive at work has really transcended into my personal and social life.
I’ve finally started writing more of my book and I’m super amped about the new direction that it’s taking. My new medication has eliminated every ounce of anxiety from my life and it feels amazing. It still, somehow, feels exhausting being me.