Turning Tables

I’d forgotten about that sad filled post from Rome, which says something! NOt sure exactly what…

I got all depressed again in Serbia, but I think that was because it was such a depressing place to be. All gray and dusty and concrete and abandoned buildings and pro Nazi grafitti. But I want to go back to see Belgrade properly.

At least I know I am currently in a much better mind frame than I was June 26!

Can’t Help Falling In Love (With You)

I am in the UK. I am not yet living in London. I will do that when I have a job lined up, as I want to live close to where I work. I am currently staying with family in a village outside Cambridge.

So much change and so much upheval. And I still don’t know whether I am happy or sad, cause there’s still almost extreme moments of both. Often in the same day.

So I get up and move to the other side of the world, and things stay similar. Not the same though.

I’ve fallen for an English boy 7 3/4 years my junior, who I met my first weekend out of Australia.

I’ve travelled around Italy, Croatia, Serbia and Montenegro alone and survived.

And now I desperately want a job so I can move to London and start the new chapter of my life. I love it here and appreciate my family’s generosity, but I need the stability of a permanent(ish) home.

Wish me luck for the job agency interview tomorrow please

Roam

When in Rome, do as the Romans do…

Well, I am sure there has to be at least one Roman citizen sitting in a room feeling so depressed they can’t leave it.

I’ve spent the last 3 nights staying at Sorrento, the night before that in Napoli. Flashes of this depression have surfaced over the last few days, but I am in tears now, I have to wash clothes as I can’t afford to buy more, but I cannot bring myself to walk to the Laundromat around the corner, even though I know it passes a few lovely restaurants, and I am craving a creamy pasta dish…

I want to go home, but right now, I don’t have one. I think that’s why I am feeling like this. I need a base. I feel like I need a partner so I don’t feel lonely.

And that may have been solved, sort of. On my first weekend in England, I met a lovely, kind, definitely not typical English lad. He’s 8 years my junior, but we’ve kept in touch everyday, and we’re meeting up in London on July 2. He’s never been there before, so I get to show him around.

My mood has lifted a tad since first opening the browser to write this. Partly because D (aforementioned you lad) messaged me. And partly because I got a lovely message from my ex S’s mum on facebook. She’s really a lovely lady and I am grateful that she sent it when she did- and emailed her to let her know how timely it was. How on earth did people travel before the internet was invented?

Now if only my own mum would join facebook so she can get these instant updates too!! Then we can work on getting my grandparents on it…

I’ve googlemapped the hostel and it turns out I am not far from the Collesum, I just can’t see it- I am going to check it out tomorrow.

And I might just head out to get clean clothes and some pasta now.

Going to a Town

Yes, so on June 5, I am leaving San FranBrisco for the UK. I have a two year working visa, but firstly I will backpack around Europe for about 5 weeks. Then it’s back to London to find a job, and discover many exciting things about the place.

But first there’s 30 years of life to pack up and stick in boxes. Or shed.

Tonight’s the farewell party. I am already dreading it- I have an awful pain in my stomach which can only be anxiety manifesting itself physically.

I will deal with this, and impending rapture, by drinking vodka. Or maybe gin.

Meanwhile, I need to specify why I am leaving a life behind, to try and find a better one for myself on the other side of the world.

I am going, because I haven’t been overseas before.
I am going, to get away from the almost constant thoughts and memories of a certain person.
I am going, to experience different cultures.
I am going, to do something different.
I am going to find a life partner.
I am going, to broarden my mind.

I need to get away from his manipulation.

Better Times

My how things turn around. Yes I still have depression and yes I am still on medication. I have finally come to terms with why I was treated awfully (some of it my fault, lots NOT my fault), and barely talk to any of my previous group of friends.

I always said I was more comfortable one on one with people, rather than in groups. Especially a group who specialised in looking down their noses at you.

I realised that I do have good friends, who I don’t need to see or speak to daily. I no longer have a best friend, or a group I am always with. Those of you who read my first blog would remember how I was a social butterfly, always doing something with one of my numerous friends…

Now, I no longer pretend to be an extrovert. I acknowledge the introvert I am and embrace it. I’ve watched so many series of TV shows. Read books, played scrabble with my Mum, gone to the beach by myself. And I would hate to count the hours of internet surfed…

But I’ve found the real me. I’ve discovered being happy isn’t being surrounded by false people who aren’t nice to you. Glee has helped, as has my wonderful psychologist, as has understanding the Emotional Deprivation Schema…

Good friends are those you don’t see in months, years even, but they are always kind and have a nice word to say.

I’m Only Happy When it Rains

I’ve been happy for a few weeks now. Even when I didn’t have a job lined up, therefore no source of income guaranteed, I was still happy.

I found out on 5 minutes past 5pm on the day I was due to finish the job, that my contract was being renewed, because, for the month after I was told I was no longer wanted, I still showed up with a smile, did my work, plus more and did a damn fantastic job at that.

The last minute thing wasn’t good for my immune system, but it all worked out in the end…

Why was I happy? I’d been told the same things by many people, over and over. But this time I feel different. Like i meant something. My heart and shoulders feel lighter. I feel like when I smile, I mean it, it’s not a mask.

This newfound happiness/ inner peace/ whatever, is great. I can deal with anything. I’m dealing with his shit, and I am calling him out on him being a shit. And he doesn’t like it. So much so that he halted our arrangement. He didn’t consult me, as he has never consulted me on anything. But I am strong enough to stick with it, I hope.

He really isn’t as nice as he thinks he is. I still feel sadness. But not directed at me. That is a change for the better. I know it’s not my fault he is the way he is. He is this way because he chooses to be.

But my floaty heart still wishes his heart would realise that it’s me that is what it wants.  My life would be sublime were that to happen. But I do not deserve his bullshit. I shall find someone whose intellect betters his. Whose humour is much more in synch with mine than his could ever be.

Red Eyes and Tears

And not much has changed…

I am gainfully employed, but that’s soon to end. Because of the Depression and spaced out 3 weeks while changing medication. The ex is still around. Because I let him. He wants to be friends. I want more. There’s still attraction there from both sides, but we can’t be together because he says so. Because he is the stronger one, everything goes his way.

And I am just the puppet.

But the real me, the one who knows how much he’s destroying me is in there somewhere. She fights back, but not enough to get him away.

I want to be the one in control, but the anxiety still is. It’s lost me many friends. Not acquaintences, but FRIENDS. But I don’t even care that most of those think I am a nutcase.

But for him.

And I hate him for it, but hate me more.

Little Lion Man

I’ve loved the Hottest 100 ever since my high schoool boyfriend introduced me to JJJ in 1996, and on Australia Day 1997, we sat in his room, listening to some sort of giant radio thing that everyone had in the 90′s, with our exercise book and trusty bic, writing down all the songs from 100 to 1.

Ahh, days without the internet being so popular, kids these days do not know HOW lucky they have it with a real time countdown happening on the website, on twitter, probably on facebook (I’m still deactivated so I didn’t see).

Anyways, I digress.

This Australia Day just gone was the most unAustralian one I’ve had. I’m normally the one making the damper and pavlova, buying the lamingtons and making vegemite sandwiches.

On Tuesday I awoke at 11am from a hangover, having unknowingly consumed half a bottle of my flatmate’s gin. JJJ went straight on and I was happy to hear a few of the songs I voted for.

I wore my OZ Day Tshirt purchased from Supre last year, an Aussie Cricket cap, bought from a One Dayer at the Gabba about 4 or 5 years ago, and draped the table with a cheap nylon flag bought eons ago from a $2 shop.

And sat down on the front veranda with my stereo and listened to it alone. After a while a friend came over and we had a few beers. He left and I continued to listen to it alone. Just before the top 20, I returned the stereo to my room and sat upon my bed, by myself, listening to the rest.

I’m older, a little bit wiser and a hell of a lot lonlier.

Thank you

I can not say it directly to you because it still hurts when you are nasty to me.  But thank you for following my instructions and returning my book to my letterbox, in a plastic bag, with my name on it.

Why did you take your time? Why could you not return it when I asked?

I am over you, yet you haunt my dreams most nights. You are always the revered in them, and I am left unwanted and unloved by everyone.

Much how I am feeling today. Bad day, I’m going to hide.

Cotton

I should let them all go, but I can’t.

I’m someone who doesn’t hold a grudge.  Maggie told me that, way back when I was 15. I’ve tried over the years and failed mostly.  I shall believe in my convictions, not be talked out of them by those more powerful than me at the art of debating.

My back and neck are cracking from the exercise. Second day in. I don’t do much at a time but together it’s more than what’s been done in the last Buddah knows how long.  My left calf muscle is tight, I can breathe clearer through my nose and my chest feels that feeling it hasn’t felt, in well, Buddah only knows that too.

It must continue like this, slowly increasing every one of the seven days in a week, so my mind can be as lucid as this all the time, and I can feel this Zen without having to actively try.

It is Friday night tomorrow and I wish for someone to play with. Scrabble, Scattegories, Rummy-O or Trivial Pursuit, that is!