So, Ive been thinking a lot lately about why Im here in Australia. Why I left America. The process I went through. And from talking to other travelers and reading people’s travel blogs… I was a complete idiot, but totally fuckin’ awesome brave idiot.
So, I came here to Melbourne, Australia in September. I came with the intentions of somehow finding a way to stay here long term. Hopefully to start a new life. To find happiness and love, and brighter days. I came not knowing any person in this country, having no job, and no place to live. I have horrible problems with depression and never got along well with many people. I have a very selective and odd taste in friends and I NEED TO KNOW I can rely and trust in them. So obviously, I would never fit in the with backpacker community because they are a bunch of fickle, wandering, over-privileged, little cunts who just wanna get drunk and fuck in every country the go to.
Yes, backpackers… If you’re reading this right now…I said it, and I mean it. Fuck off.
So anyway, I came here and got cheap hotel for 4 nights. And I immediately got to work. I needed an apartment and job right away. I was fortunate enough to find an apartment in those four days, so I had a place to live and after job hunting nonstop for almost a month I found a stable job.
I struggled and struggled and struggled to find a friend. Any friend really, just someone who wasn’t a transient hipster who was only in Melbourne for a month before they went somewhere else. I felt there was no point in making friends (which is already an extremely hard and painful process for me) for them just to leave right after I finally got comfortable with them. So I managed to eventually pull together a rather ragtag group of people who I enjoyed spending time with. Friends for life? No. But, people to make a base to start a life from? certainly.
But soon the group started to fall apart. A couple broke up and stuff got weird, one of the girls left and went home, another kind of drifted, and so on.. and I just watched on the sidelines as this group of people I fought so hard to find just kind of fell apart. And i was seeing the loneliness of being and foreign country by myself start to creep up once more. Depression and anxiety started to get really bad again. Affecting work and my already crumbling social life until I basically had nothing again except my one friend here who I actually consider to be a really good friend.
But now… she’s leaving. She’s decided she wants to go travel and not settle down in Melbourne anymore. So here I am… ugh… l\
I literally can’t imagine starting over again. Having to form a whole new group. Making friends and getting along with people is such an intense struggle for me. It just seems like staying inside and being alone is easier.
HOWEVER that is the kind of thinking that bogs people down and makes them want to kill themselves so…
We will not be talking or thinking like that! In fact, that is the point of writing the entry. I came to this fucking country alone, with nothing. And this isn’t the first time. This is the third city I’ve moved to and tried to form a life.
Epic failure? Yes, very true. Raging bitch? I don’t think I am, but if you do, whatevs, your opinion.
But coward or weak? oh hell no.
I will make this work, and if it doesn’t, I will try somewhere new. But I don’t quit and I don’t give up and I know that I have the strength that a lot of other people don’t. And I’m sure that if you’re reading this and you feel like you’re life is shit, but you’re not giving up, you’re probably a lot stronger than others too.
Lets get happy. Lets get living. And lets rock shit out!
not proof-read, as always
~The Dark Horse