Saturday, July 28, 2007

Message from the depths of self-pity

Wow, this week has been hard.

On the up-side, I finally found a new home, sharing with a lovely girl in North London (my allegiance to the North is complete), about half as close to work as I am now.

But, ohhh my stars, this week. Almost as soon as I had agreed to take the new place, I started to have doubts; and those doubts soon spun themselves into a full blown stress attack. It all hit me quite hard that I am going to be on my own. Again. My dreams in tatters. Starting over, for what feels like the hundredth time. Cue: near-fainting episode on the tube, a million commuters brushing by my huddled body. A guardian angel appears, whose kindness and concern provoke a flood-burst of tears. A colleague is called. I am given tea and put on a bus home once I feel well enough to stand and walk.

Thank god for the kindness of strangers (and workmates).

I am trying to work on my gratitude. I too easily fall into a state of self-pity and anxiety. I need to work out how to be thankful for what I have, and for those people around me who care and are helping me. Me, the lone wolf that I sometimes feel, proud of my independence but scared to let people see me as I really am. Which, right now, is a vulnerable mess. Putting on a brave face, because what else can I do but continue to function?

Me oh my.

Next week will be better.

Thursday, July 19, 2007

Finding the spacious, bright, leafy and private needle in the big, stinky, overcrowded haystack

House-hunting. I must be some kind of masochist, becacuse I kind of enjoy it, in a guilty sort of way. Not that I'm looking forward to leaving my beautiful, private flat with the magnificent green view and (almost) private woodland paradise just around the corner. Or being on my own again after 4 years of cosy cohabitation. Or sharing with strangers.

But I do find it fascinating getting to peek into other people's lives; to see what sort of taste they have, whether they use their kitchen, how scrupulously clean or comfortably messy their home is, what posters they have up, the proliferation or conspicuous absence of books. And of course, I judge them accordingly.

The anal obsessive whose flat looks like a magazine spread.

The scruffy hippies who are mildly bewildered by my lame establishment job.

The young, irresponsible gits who think cocaine is like, the best thing EVER!

The guy with two overweight labradors in a tiny Hampstead flat.

The ones who watch Big Brother. Daily.

The goth girls who keep rats in a cage in the living room.

The naturist who believes in the "freedom, spirituality and exhiliration" of being nude at home (I didn't go to see that one).

The girls who work in "fashion", and have not a brain cell between them (obviously no books there).

It is entertaining. I am also enjoying seeing other parts of London and discovering new villages, which is kind of fun. I have been living in rather a posh area of North London, so it is good to know that there are nice, reasonably green areas that are a little more...diverse. And a little grungier. But that's ok. The people are (mostly) lovely.

* * *

Also: I think I saw Tori Amos on the tube the other weekend. Could that even be possible? Tori Amos takes the tube when she's in London? I know she lives in deepest Cornwall somewhere, so it is possible that she was on a day trip to the capital. Then again, maybe the lack of sleep is finally causing me to hallucinate.

In case you are wondering, I was too scared/awed to approach her. And I would have felt a total dick if it wasn't her.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Breaking up

Confession time. I am determined to be as honest as I can be about this experience. Maybe someone out there will take some comfort from my words. In any case, it might help me on this very bumpy ride.

Things I am scared about:

- Being on my own again.
- Not having anyone to hug.
- Being lonely.
- Feeling unlovable (ie. my emotional messiness).
- Living with people who turn out to be nightmares.
- Not feeling comfortable in my new home - wherever it may be.
- Not knowing where my life is going.
- Not having my family nearby for support.
- Falling apart.
- Having to go home in a state of failure rather than of.. triumph? No. Glory? No. Success? Well, in a sense. That will have to do. A small scale success, as in: I survived London on my own and made a small life here for a while.

Things I am OK about:

- Getting more time to do things I want to do for myself. Or perhaps I should say, being pushed into doing more things I want to do by this experience.
- Spending some time looking inwards and finding out what makes me happy/contented/at peace.
- House-hunting. I haven't come across any real weirdos yet - just slightly too small, slightly too dark, or slightly too noisy rooms, but the people have generally been nice (which is reassuring).
- That the struggling has taken a back seat (for now).

Things I am happy about:

Ummmm...that it's Summer?

Sunday, July 08, 2007

Flat hunting between tears

Lordy, lordy, lord. My oh my, I forgot what a stressful business it is being on your own after 4 years of unhealthy co-dependency. Oh wait, I have never been in quite this situation before. Mamma mia.

Sometimes I imagine a particular yoga teacher's voice in my head, telling me in her beautiful, elongated, soothing voice: "breathe innnnto the heart chakra and oooout through the belly chakra". And vice versa.

I am not sure if I even believe in chakras, but at this point, whatever helps me get through this, y'know?

Also, I have lost my appetite, pretty much completely. This has never ever happened before. I find it bewildering and disturbing. If there was one thing I thought I could count on in this world - besides the love and concern of my parents - it was that my passion for food in general and chocolate in particular would never wane.

* * * *

I went to a quiz night last week - a colleague is raising funds for Oxfam (hi Bix!). One of the questions in the Literature round was: "Name the book which begins with the words, "Call me Ishmael". I knew immediately that it was Moby Dick.

I do love reading, but I never got around to Moby Dick.

Also, I have a pretty bad memory for books/history/geography. Unless, that is, it happens to have been referenced in a comic, a format for which I seem to have total recall.

Monday, July 02, 2007

The struggle

God speaks to each of us as he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night.

These are words we dimly hear:

You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.

Flare up like flame
and make big shadows I can move in.

Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.

Don't let yourself lose me.

Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousnes.

Give me your hand.

~ Rainer Maria Rilke ~

(Rilke’s Book of Hours: Love Poems to God, translated by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy)

These words are comforting me as my world tumbles in.
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...