There always just has to be a snake in my paradise, doesn't there?
And that snake could most accurately be called my restlessness and thoughts that I would much rather not have. But it just so seems, that instead of counting my blessings, settling down and being content I always end up wanting more, something different.
And the worst of it is, that I don't know whether it's an instinct I should actually listen or tell it to shut up. I don't know if it's an egoistic illusion of needing something greater I will never achieve in the end and will waste years searching.
I really wish my head would calm down. I wish I didn't have so much time to think. I wish the fever of the South would let me go.
It's November. It's dark and rainy and miserable. There is very little light at the end of my career abyss and I feel exhausted pretty much all the time as my head would very much like to have it's 03-12 sleeping rhythm.
But you know what? I don't feel bad. I really don't. I have worse days, sure and I get annoyed because I'm tired, but I don't feel the all swallowing, crippling darkness that has plagued me in November as long as I can remember. Strange.
It might be A. It might be that for the first time in years I'm actually healthy and relatively balanced. It maybe the two intertwined. Which ever has more effect, I'm still in awe about my general well being almost daily. And it makes me feel happy and safe.
"No creo que nadie me ha amado como tu en todo mi vida.".
One of my old class mate who I have't seen since secondary just walked in. A guy. Who's initials are A.D (Sherlock that kenttineito). It was actually pretty awful. 1, I got totally tongue tied. I knew who he was in the same second he walked in, but didn't want to say anything unless he did. He did. And then, 2, Fuck I felt embarrassed. I hated being in the position to serve him coffee. I suppose I'm properly over thinking this, but I don't want any of those people who made me feel bad even for a second to see me doing a job like this.
Don't get me wrong, waitressing and cashier work is a job like any other. But it's just that I left. I went away and living and studying abroad gave me the feeling I had achieved more than any of them bastards ever thought I would. I was going to be something great and show them all how wrong they were. You know, the usual story. And now I'm serving coffee in Vuosaari.
I know that what's really making me feel bad are my own high standards, but still... I'm sick of this already. I hate hating what I do and the worst thing is that I feel so fucking superior all the time. Like this work was beneath me. I know it's not, I should count myself lucky to have a job in the first place. But I can't shake the feeling that I achieved nothing during all these years. Like I was back to exactly where I was when I left. Like I had something to prove and have lost everything that gave me value.
Retarded, right? Then, how do I get rid of this feeling? Someone tell me please.
I just made various phone calls to various people about some marriage and paper issues.
And right now, I love Hyvinkää. Why? Because a very friendly woman from their magistrate told me they would have no problem getting us married with the papers we have. Which would mean, that A could get his residency in Finland in about 6 months.
There is still some issues we have to take care of regarding this, but it definitely feels like a shimmering light at the end of the tunnel that has been so long and dark. And just maybe this one doesn't turn out to be a train in the end.
Happiness and relief. Wish us luck and lets hope this time it all works out. For us to get our fair chance.
I think I feel better. A couple of days off spent doing nothing special but enjoying the time together with my nene and the world seems a brighter place.
I think I got caught up in the frustration of waiting for a million things to happen. Fighting against the windmills. After a few days of drama and temper tantrums I got it all out of my system and just had to accept - once again - that everything comes in its own time. No amount of stress and anxiety is going to change that, so why bother.
Meanwhile I've also come to realise I'm very very frustrated with my job. It doesn't click any intelligently challenging or even fun boxes, and I hate working just for the money. But, equally, I just had to bear it until something better comes along.
New starts are always hard. But thank gods I get to do this one with a good man by my side.
At work, doing what I've been doing since I was 17...
Since I got sick I've had an enormous feeling of being out of place and stuck. However, it has to be said that the ONLY time I don't feel like that is when I'm at home with A. I said months ago that he would be like my safety haven, and that's definitely what's happened.
Anywhere else and with anyone else I feel tense and slightly irritated. When I'm alone I feel quite low and feel like I'm going crazy. I can't stop thinking about France and Spain. Paris and Sevilla. It's like an itch inside my skull I can't scratch and I'm not sure if it's going to pass or keeps getting worse by the day.
I know it's just a culture shock, I've had it before. But still... It sucks. I wish I could find something to ground me to Finland; a job I enjoy and feel challenged in, a school...
And I can tell you, for someone who has severe needle fobia that's pretty fucking bad. Actually, it's worse than bad. It's absolute torture. The first one on Thursday went ok; I didn't really know it was coming, so I didn't have time to get stressed about it. More over, my arm was unharmed and fresh and my vein all full of testable blood. Good times.
On Saturday then, I was exhausted, knew it was coming and felt nauseous for third day in the row. They had to pump three massive bottles of blood off me to get to the bottom of things and during this procedure I cried, felt like vomiting and fainting and very nearly had a panic attack. The whole thing was not helped by the fact that they had to use the same arm than the last time, as the veins on my left arm are utterly crap. The pain, the horror, the absolute panic.
Then, today. Oh, today... I went to get my (hopefully) last tests taken today. I was scared to begin with and when the nurse just as much as touched my arm I flinched. In the end, after much struggle we got the needle in, to the same arm, and the blood just refused to come out. When she started talking about getting the test taken from the lower part of my arm, I had a minor fit and had to beg her to stop the whole thing. I was going to have a proper breakdown. After fetching A to hold my hand and distract me, the nurse somehow managed to wiggle the sample from my left arm. Thank gods.
So now my needle fobia is even worse. I literally don't know how I will ever cope with another blood test again. Today was borderline "I just can't do this, I don't care if I die of this infection" already... Hope I never, ever get ill again... At least I'm feeling better already. Thank gods for that too. Because I couldn't take this pricking any more...
The big Move is finally on the way, it feels like.
After dragging... about 60kg (?) of stuff to charity, I'm almost left with just all the things I will keep. I am suspecting I'll end up dropping another load to the charity shop closer by, because I still have dishes, curtains etc. that I really don't need. Also, it feels good to give. Or something. In the end I decided to donate the whopping £22 I would have gotten from my CD:s to charity as well... I think it'll be good for me on my path to Lesser Things in my life. Snufkin was once again right, as I always seem to remember when packing my life into suitcase.
This time it's not just a suit case though. It's 50kg of luggage to the plane and two massive 30kg boxes of household goods waiting to be collected by a delivery company tomorrow. After I get rid of those, the insane scrubbing will commence. I suspect I'll be spending pretty much whole tomorrow scrubbing clean every inch of my flat. I'm also dreading the work load I have to do on my own.
Aaaargh, such hard work this. I wish I could hire someone to do it for me. To be a rich girl... Although, it'll all be worth it in the end.
cheerful
anxious
confused