So many new thoughts have entered my overactive mind in the last few weeks. While I love my adventurous side (and still have a dozen more countries that I would like to see), I have this need to settle down. No, I don’t necessarily mean having kids, getting married, buying a house and investing in things. I mean, I want to find a place that I can call home. This has been all too difficult for the past few years because I’ve had to move apartments, countries and cities every 2-4 months for work or because of a lease that has ended. It’s left me somewhat bitter in that I have to pack up everything I own once again and try to make a new place “homey”. So once again, it’s been a total of 6 weeks in this new place and I have to move out. Just lovely.
When I heard the news 3 weeks ago, I frantically searched real estate websites in Barcelona and even went as far as looking at places in Cape Town and Berlin. I also thought perhaps I’d do a month-long travel through Europe. But moving cities and moving countries means yet again getting used to the area, learning the language and so on and so forth. While that is exciting, I am just not in the place right now.
I’ve been living in Barcelona now for 5 months… and I love it. I am quite sure that I am not convincing myself that I love it because I don’t feel like making a big move. When I think back on the places I have lived throughout my adult life, none feel like home… besides Barcelona. Just my luck though, that places available for March are either utterly shit or too expensive. So, in an attempt to get my ducks in a row, I’ve bought a return ticket to go home for 2 months. In this time, I hope to save my money, come back in May and get a one bedroom place. There’s just one problem with all of this…
Having broken away from life in my home country, people move on – much as the same as I have too. They’re different, I am different. And suddenly, I get the feeling as though they really couldn’t care less that I am coming home. Family and friends probably see me as a burden as I need to crash at their place and rely on them (or public transport) to get around. I hate been reverted back to the state where I rely on others. I’ve recently learned that this is the reason why I love living in a different country. I don’t want nor need the help of others. Additionally, I realised that I don’t really have any one in this entire world that gives a fuck where I am or what I am doing. Sad, but sort of freeing.
So while I will only be spending two months at home, it almost feels wrong. It feels like I’ve bought a one-way ticket to a place where I am “the baby” again, asking for help. I really should be excited but I’m just not.
I’ve been avoiding writing anything that sounds like a diary entry for a while now (I hate the sound of it).
Everyone thinks that I am having the best time of my life. I am happier than Korea, yes. I persist to call Korea The Hole. I am happy… I’m just… not? What would the adjective be for someone that feels happier and looks happier and sounds happier, doesn’t feel sad or depressed but is? What do you call someone who has been put right in the centre of their ultimate fear? Every day, I am surrounded by people. People are moving fast, they aren’t stopping, they aren’t talking. They’re moving, in large groups and in small spaces, from A to B. I have to close my eyes or avoid looking at faces as not to hyperventilate and to try and meander my way onto a train that is so crowded that I have to wait for two or three more to come by in order to get on.
I still believe that life is punishing me for never taking transport to visit my friends in Korea merely because the planning of it all made me too anxious.
Where do all of these people come from?
I haven’t gotten black-out drunk since I’ve arrived in England. I haven’t used sex as a tool to be wanted since I arrived in England. The two things that cause my happiness and depression. Is that why I feel neither?
I am considering AA, not because I am addicted to alcohol but I am addicted to the stamina and ability it gives me to get affection and love in any form. Is that the same thing? Am I then addicted to alcohol?
I’m counting the weeks – 1,2,3,4 until I can get away from here. I sat down on the black and white checked bathroom floor ten minutes after I should have left for work and I cried and breathed deeply and quickly. The day prior, tears were starting to form whilst being pushed up against the side of a subway door. Why do I think that I am the only person who is struggling in this fast-paced human infested small space? I don’t feel normal.
I am utterly exhausted today. Mentally and emotionally. I spent one to two hours crying so hard, that I’m embarressed to see my neighbour. I know that this space is for my rantings, but I just don’t feel like going into the details of last night. In short, I had a massive fight with a friend that almost ended our friendship followed by an intense talk. Feelings of guilt regarding me not being able to attend my best friend of almost 20 years’ wedding (it is in South Africa, and I do not have holiday at that time), and then some words which I took to heart, even though they were only said with the best intentions. I just felt overwhelmed yesterday.
My future scares me a lot and it’s coming to the time where I need to make a big decision. It’s making me petrified and anxious. It’s so easy when people tell you that you’ll make the right decision. I know I need to sit down and make a pros and cons list. I feel like my head is so cloudy right now. I feel like I don’t ever get that moment of absolute calm and clarity where I can breathe and write.
Tomorrow is a holiday, and honestly it could not have come at a better time. After last night, I need some rest.
I wish I didn’t constantly obsess about my weight and the way I look.
I wish I would stop imagining what people were thinking about how I look.
I wish my mind would rest when it comes to planning and organizing.
I wish I wouldn’t obsess about house work.