As the fifth day in a row of temperatures below -30 degrees Celsius continues, cabin fever is real and hitting hard.
I don’t own a car. The idea of taking on that much debt terrifies me. As someone who has been on their own since they were 17, I don’t want to accumulate more than I can pay off. So, when it gets this cold, there’s not much more to do than stay in side, look for jobs online and watch a lot of Netflix.
Not owning a vehicle definitely makes getting around an interesting task when you’re 30 miles from the nearest town.
There’s a dog in this house named Bruiser, who quite literally leaves bruises on your body if you piss him off. And he’s a temperamental little bugger too, so it’s quite easy to piss him off. Never have I met a more aptly named pet in my life. Also, he snores. He’s on the couch across from me, four legs in the air, snoring like a full-fledged human man right now. Oh, Bruiser.
I long for the days when life is figured out. When I have a plan, a job and can effectively turn this passion project of mine into a full-fledged reality. The days when I can wander the world, taking beautiful photos and meeting beautiful strangers… and eating food even before I learn what it is. I long for the sunsets on new coasts and sunrises in new cities.
I am bound and determined to believe that December 31, 2018 will become the best thing that ever happened to me. That it will have been the day this all started. It was the day that all of the negativity in my life was cut out and the new, proper chapter began. What I need right now is to get through this literal and metaphorical cold snap confining my existence to this unemployment.
Life will get figured out. Hopefully it doesn’t come to robbing banks to get me to the sandy beaches of the Seychelles. (Small joke, I would never rob a bank) And hopefully that’ll just be my beginning.
Until then, still counting the days.
Today is not going well for me. My anxiety is skyrocketing to the point where I’m struggling to catch my breath. What’s triggering it? It would be nice to know. How is it February already? Where is the time going and why does it feel like it’s slipping away from me faster than sand running through my fingertips?
More questions. Every time I get anxious it seems as though all I am filled with is questions. Questions, questions, questions. It’d be nice to have some answers for a change.
I don’t tell people about my anxiety. I haven’t really ever. I’m not ashamed of it, I just don’t know how to explain it. Talking about anxiety to someone who doesn’t suffer from it really doesn’t understand. Trying to answer their questions just seems like an arduous feat I’m not capable of at this stage in my life.
We’re a month into the year and all I can feel is that I don’t have my shit together.
My mom starts chemotherapy on the 7th and though I know they caught her cancer early and I know they’re incredibly optimistic she will come out of this clear and healthy, I’m still scared.
The job hunt has become more frustrating by the day. Step 1 – Upload your resume. Step 2 – Rewrite everything that is listed on your resume in our form. Step 3 – Answer a bunch of questions that we should be asking you in an interview but don’t because we’re not going to interview you. Step 4 – Waste a lot of your time.
And, for the interviews that I have had, I’m now playing the waiting game. And the waiting game sucks. Everything feels unsettled. Everything feels out of place. It’s as though the world is off-kilter and I just can’t keep my feet firmly planted on the ground. Life happens.
Waiting for this to pass. Hoping it passes soon.
I really need to stop pouring my thoughts out to the internet.
I’ve been crying a lot lately. I can’t even tell you why.
That’s a lie. I can tell you why. I’m overwhelmed. Everything seems to be overwhelming me these days.
Being unemployed is weighing on my heart. I don’t know what to do. On the one hand I find myself feeling as though I am the problem. Am I the problem? Am I unqualified? With a university degree and nearly a decade of work experience under my belt, am I the problem? On the flip side, I can’t help but feel as though companies are going about the hiring process in all the wrong ways in 2019.
Needing to fill out a questionnaire that takes 40 minutes, simply to apply for a job at your organization, seems like overkill. Maybe I’m wrong but can you not save the questionnaires for the actual job interview? What do you actually ask candidates in your interviews if they’ve already told you everything about themselves during the application process?
So, after 28 days, as I get ready to walk into the unknown of being jobless and homeless, and to an extent, hopeless, I’m crying a lot. A lot more than I want to be. I hate crying. I want to have my life figured out. I want to know where I am going next. I want to have a plan. I feel like Phoebe Buffay in that episode of Friends when Monica asks “Phoebe, do you have a plan?” to which Phoebe responds “I don’t even have a PL…”
That’s about how I am feeling today.
I don’t even have a “PL”.
I really need to stop complaining on the internet.
The day that I was fired from my job I gave notice that I would be moving out of this apartment. At the time it seemed like the right thing to do. I didn’t want to be here, and if I wasn’t working, why should I stay? I was clearly way too over-confident in thinking that I would have everything sorted out in one-month’s time.
Here we are 27 days later and I don’t have any more answers now than I had the day I gave my notice. I’m packing my things, cleaning my apartment and getting ready to become a stow-away/couch surfer/mooch from everyone I know.
In the truest, societal definition of the sense, I am not ‘homeless’. I won’t be on the streets. I won’t be in dire straights not knowing where my next meal will come from. Thankfully, I do have some extremely wonderful and loving people in my life whom I know will make sure I have a place to sleep during this awkward transition I seem to be going through. That being said, it’s going to be weird to be of no fixed address. To not have my things and my bed and say I am going home to my place at the end of each day. Maybe I’ll get used to that. Maybe I’ll even like that. It might be nice to have nothing to tie one’s-self down.
The one thought that has remained constant during the past 27 days is the desire to travel. I have the most intense, urgent desire to up and leave everything behind and see the world. I want to take beautiful photos, eat exhilarating foods and spend all of my savings just living. Truly living.
Perhaps I’m wrong. But then again we’re all allowed to make our own definitions of what it means to truly live. I can’t shake this feeling though that there’s got to be more out there for me than a cubicle with my name on it.
Maybe I don’t need a fixed address. Maybe what I need is out there… somewhere in this world that I have yet to travel.
Question of the day: where’s your ideal travel destination?
Staring at the ceiling at 2:30 in the morning with a lump in my throat and a football in my chest, my brain is overcome with thoughts of how unsettled every single thing in my life is at the moment.
What is it about anxiety that makes us so unwilling to tell anyone in our lives that we’re affected by it? Why is it that such a large portion of the population seems to suffer from it but we keep it to ourselves? We all just sort of… suffer in silence.
I have anxiety. It’s bad. It hasn’t been this bad since I was a teenager. Everything is bothering me right now. I don’t have a job, I don’t have a direction, in six days I won’t have a place to live. And, as I struggle to see beyond the large aspects of my life that are crumbling around me, I can’t help but be effected by the small things in life that my brain just won’t let go of. I burnt my breakfast this morning and I cried. I cried and crawled back into my bed for two hours because of it. I just can’t let things go.
I remember this feelings all too well. At sixteen I was a walking head-case and I had no idea what was wrong with me at the time. Everything affected my anxiety. I would go for weeks on end without sleeping and lived in fear that everything and everyone was going to hurt me, disappoint me or forget about me. My heart felt as though it was going to jump out of my chest and I had no idea why.
It’s been over a decade since I’ve felt anxiety to this extent. The difference between then and now is that I know what anxiety is this time around. At least I know what’s wrong. I don’t know how to fix it, but I do know what’s wrong. I’m not sleeping. I’m struggling to eat. I’m struggling to trust anyone. I just want some answers. I want these feelings to go away.
Actually, I want to talk about this. I want to tell people in my life. I want them to know what’s happening inside of my head. I want anxiety to be something that people aren’t afraid to talk about. I wish that people wouldn’t have to suffer in silence anymore. I wish for people to be able to converse about things that aren’t always happy.
Life is messy. Let’s be real about that.
You learn a lot about someone by seeing how they deal with the shit that life throws at them. They learn a lot about you when they see how you deal with the shit that life throws at them.
I’ve learned a lot about the people in my life the past few weeks. Who’s important to keep around and who I just need to let go of.
I hate 2019, so far. Hate it. There’s been nothing of note that’s been good for me, so far as I can see. And even though I am well aware I’m stuck in a negative headspace at the moment (so my views are definitely skewed), I still stand by what I say. 2019 is kicking my ass.
I’m learning a lot about myself, though. I’ve learned that even when I think it can’t get worse, it can. And I’m also learning that even as things seem to be getting worse by the day, I can deal. I can deal with it so far, at least. I think that’s the most I can hope for at this point in time.
Starting over is necessary at this point. The problem with starting over is that I don’t know where to go from here. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know which way to turn.
If the universe were paying attention, I’d love for a sign. A sign of where to go, or who to see, what to do or who to be. If the universe is litening…
Spiraling out of control seems to be the only thing I am capable of right now. And I have to believe that’s okay. It’s okay to not always be happy. It’s okay to not always have the answers. It has to be okay. Too many people live with preconceived notions that things must always be good. But life isn’t always like that. Life is messy. Things happen that you don’t want to deal with and sometimes it’s all you can do to get out of bed each day. That’s okay.
When you’re in a difficult headspace, sometimes getting out of bed each day is the best thing that you can do. I know that’s how I’ve felt lately.
Where am I going to live in two weeks? I don’t know. How am I going to move there? I don’t know. What should I do with my life? I don’t know.
I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.
I wish that I knew. I wish that I had the answers. I wish that I wasn’t being such an asshole to the people who care most about me. In addition to not being able to control my life, I can’t seem to be able to control my feelings or attitude either.
I screwed up. I’m continuing to screw up. Making things worse seems to be my talent right now. I wish I had answers. I wish I had a feeling that this was going to be okay.
GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER. STOP MAKING THINGS WORSE. YOU WILL GET THROUGH THIS. (Still trying to pep talk myself. Still hoping it’ll work)
Like sand through the hourglass… these are the days of our lives.