When I started teaching, we were chucked into the deep end and I was teaching lessons on day 2. If you know me, you'd know that this is something I fucking despise in life, being put on the spot or, given no time to mentally prepare for something totally out of my arena so to speak. I burnt out in the second week and cried in the bathroom with no one knowing, twice. In between lessons and during our lunch break. I was fucking dismantled that second weekend and I was ready to call it quits.
Then I realised I'd already done two weeks, and in the same way I submit to my feelings of depression and suicide, I decided to submit to the progression of life. Which is funny because individualist conversation we all know and love is very proactive and fabulously assertive. Somehow, I managed to get through the second half of training with no relapses, while others were having them in the 3rd/4th week.
I'm in no way bragging. I don't understand half of it, but this whole part of the trip called "finding myself" has really been in action if not anything else. I am now so familiar with my strengths—of which are few and far between, but quite reliable! And my weaknesses, which I don't term weakness as in this whole process I have found out, apologising for who you are is the worst thing you can do to yourself, and sets you up for a myriad of other stressful things waiting to happen.
I rewatched an old favourite film called "Mirrormask" and for me, I was mostly watching it with how it made me feel when I was younger in mind. But for D he saw it and gathered all sorts of insight. One being the scene with all the Sphinx house cats and they advised Helena and Valentine, "don't let them see your fear," which is basically how it is for everything in life.
In life, becoming independent and creating a life for yourself requires exactly that. And that is something I've not ever been able to achieve if not for this entire experience here. I've issues with bureaucracy and these unsolved obstacles they did not footnote in our disclosures and I'm only the same as everyone else but then I wonder, if I am the same then why am I the only one who wants to go back home?
I have never in my life experienced so much love and care from a group of people I have only known for a month. We've all left our homes to start new lives here and I don't think I could be luckier to have been put in this group. Absolute rockstars. And forget the politics for a second because this rainbow of people have taught me one thing: never abandon who you are.
I could have come out to a few of my new found friends that I had depressive tendencies and oh by the way if I disappear off the face of the earth for a while it's because I'm in a hole, don't take it personally. But chick, I couldn't bring myself to it they were all such legends. And even that one bum class i taught where I was basically in a hole, at school with incredulously bleak cognitive functioning, feeling so fucking alien because why am I the only one burnt out so early-even then, they smiled at me and encouraged me, "you'll be right."
Which is basically half of my internal dialogue now. I'm so foreign and so homesick and should be really grabbing teaching by the balls here, at least for a little bit, even without the bureaucracy sorted, but I've coasted. And I coasted and I've applied for positions back home that I would've never for the life of me thought I could do. And now I can. So I figure, ok there's that. And then I figure, if you are gonna stay here then at least do something.
I'm trying to turn my life into a series of meaningful, positive events that will build my character and person into a woman I can be proud of. And I've found out that post-trauma, post anxiety post all of that shit, I'm still one hell of a ride. And I've realised that it takes people who are well familiar with that (personally or through close ties), or people with real openness and huge minds, to get past my initial reservation.
In the entire training group I have met one real friend. And I've made loads of friends, but this guy and I have more in common than you'd probably expect. And I think there's a vibe to it. And I think we figured that out early. And I digress.
Point is, I'm so beyond knowing anything that I accept, I know nothing. Nothing is my everything. Am I certain about anything in my life? Hell no. Do I miss it? Hell yes. And you can argue nothing is ever certain in life but I will tell you that some people do not know what they have infront of them, and for someone like me, with nothing but forks in alien roads I will tell you, being certain about anything, and wisely certain about it too, is probably one of the most (strangely enough) liberating things you can experience. Because how fucking great is it to be able to see yourself in your environment, and in others. Honestly, it's not a show for narcissism, but familiarity and home is exactly what makes me feel complete. Can I be complete without it? Maybe. But as much of a gypsy I am in my heart, my mind needs to rest sometimes. I'm pretty old school in my head. Liberated old school. Wine and dine, then call me your little slut. This kind of thing.
I don't really understand how people become such experts in life. Then again, those are the kinds of people that get what they want. Society supports that! Maybe there's something to it. Maybe that's phase 3. How the hell did so much happen I feel like I'm going through some apocalypse of the old.
In any case, I've realised that my bravery is the equivalent of me not being so present in myself. Which sounds kind of deluded, but tossing my heart to the wind is the only way I find anything gets done in my life. Somehow, it always works out. Maybe I trust myself that much.