we talk every day. or at least we try to. time constraints. work. the rotation of the earth. these things are hurdles.
this is the first month out of the five where i've been working. thank goodness for staffing agencies and the large expanse of massachusetts that's been corporatized. the first three months were in a delightful little town. a town that has an old timey park complete with white gazebo and a plaque reading "a main street town". it's lovely.
small. quaint. village-esque. read: not much going on.
but that wasn't the main problem. i was depressed. i get that now. i didn't really feel depressed. i just. i was just not motivated. i wasn't interested in doing a whole heck of a lot. cleaning. laundry. cooking. looking for a job. filling in visa forms. none of it.
i think lots of reason are obvious. others maybe are a bit more deeply rooted. hidden by years of undergrowth and strangling figs. you'd have to hack with a machete just to reach the spot where they are buried. perhaps dig a little with your fingers. to find more explanation for the depression. regardless. i was unhappy.
it's a vicious cycle really. you're sad about something. so you stop doing other stuff. then you get sad about the things you stopped. then about how you have no money. then about how you're lazy and aren't "really" trying to find a job. and then it's all a giant katamari ball full of little clones of your insecurity. all legs and arms wriggling. screaming and wailing. as you push yourself farther and farther. gathering speed. and collecting more of your crazy. more of your "issues".
but i'm here now. i'm working. i'm motivated. despite this weekend playing video games, i'm getting myself out. i make plans. i see people. i've been blogging *waves hand to blogosphere*. i've been reading. i've even been eating healthier.
and yet. i'm still unhappy. don't get me wrong. all the above is great. but the daily chats. the talking long distance to someone who by all rights, should be next to me. it tears at my heart. you've got to think about it. four months. of me not working. of my debt still being there. of me being depressed and lazy. he's a saint. but i can hear the weariness. as we discuss yet another problem that came up. new tires for the car. my credit card being over the limit (!). the car stalling. the challenges of feeding ourselves for less than 20 bucks a week (10 gbp for him).
this situation blows. and not the good kind like through a party noisemaker or a bubble wand. this is the really crappy kind. like a warm breeze over the thawing shit, from the neighbors giant dog, which has been buried under the snow for the past three months. or the musty smell of day old vomit and urine which wafts off the homeless dude on the bench as he sits in the sun.
so even after we cashed in my pension plan from the old office. we're still short. we have to wait til he gets paid and i get paid this week. and then, fingers crossed, i can pay the application fee.
of course. then that leaves me the small problem of working up enough funds to fly home.