The Game Changer

….. the next instalment of my journal, chronicling a year of change…

22.1 6.25

I woke up really early this morning. It might be a small move, but it is a move nonetheless. It is my 8th move in six years. Moving to the UK after my law degree, moving within the UK a few times for work, moving back, moving out after my relationship ended, moving here and now moving to something that was going to be a bit more permanent and now it might not be. When I looked at my new apartment it felt really big. The furnished place I have been in has actually been sufficient. The amount of clothes I have had here has actually been sufficient. When you have to do with less space and less stuff, you realise that you can actually do with less space and less stuff. I have a box full of colourful clothes coming my way, and I haven’t even missed them.

Moving always digs up emotions, even if it is a relatively little move. When I left my flat in Australia I was so busy that I had almost no time to sit down and reflect. Or be sad. If I had taken time to think about it I would have realised what a big move it was, and that, even though I never felt that I really belonged, I had spent 30 years there, I was part of a dance community, I had rebuilt a life when I became single. I knew where everything was. All of that is catching up with me now, alone, heart broken and miserable in my job. I didn’t have a best friend, but I had more there than I have here.

I don’t miss the baking heat, but I miss sunshine.

Time to get up and wheel my cases through the streets.

22.1 22.37

In my new place and feeling awful. The cable of the TV is missing and the base of my lamp is broken into smithereens but it still works (go figure), but apart from that all went super well. The apartment is still light and airy, not in the basement and it has a balcony, and yet I feel awful.

The 8th move in six years, and I am unpacking less each time. I seem to stand forever in front of boxes that I have to unpack and work out where everything goes. Then there is all this stuff I have to get — a toaster, a kettle, bucket, a mop, cleaning products, a bin. Stuff like that. My dad and his wife came by today, super nice, and dropped off two baroque arm chairs, for the queen that I am, a base for my bed, as well as some pots and a folding table. They made suggestions about possible curtain and carpet options. The life planet I am on right now doesn’t even stock curtains. I have moved into a place when I have no wish to stay. And I feel really shitty. I can’t find the TV cable and feel like throwing the TV away. TV is shit here anyway. I have to buy all this stuff and don’t even want to stay. My place looks a bit like a student hovel, with the folding table and baroque arm chairs. And I don’t even wish to stay. At the same time the thought of moving again in just a few months is nauseating. I will probably feel better once I have my bookshelf up, with some belongings in it. A snow globe at least. Then this place will feel a little more like home, I can take breath and gather strength. There is so much to do, there are boxes everywhere, I can”t find a thing.

As a parting gift from my old place I was given a whopping fine for downloading ‘The Lego Movie’ while my game changer was here. My own fault, I know the law, and this stuff is taken seriously here. The irony is that I wasn’t strictly fined for downloading, but for not deleting it immediately, because that made me the provider. 380 Euros for having it on my hard drive for 30 minutes, that is some hourly rate.

Mostly I feel shitty because I feel really, really lonely right now. And I am really tired of people telling me it will take a while.

I would like to tell my game changer that I miss him, but I won’t. But I miss him anyway.

23.1 19.53

Had a nice chat with my former landlord when I handed my old key back. He mentioned his American friends who live here who say that when they go to other countries they miss the German intellect — the other day I overheard two young men discuss chemistry in the bouldering hall, something you absolutely would not find in Australia — but it is just impossible to get close to people here. So it is not just me. The people are super polite, everyone who passes you in the corridor says hello, my new landlord even dropped flowers off for me today, which is charming. But nobody laughs out loud, conversations hardly get past superficial pleasantries. It takes so much energy to keep the energy.

I pulled back muscle carrying stuff upstairs, so no bouldering tonight. Shit. And my internet surfstick isn’t working. Shit. I have become totally dependent on the internet, even a day without it seems unbearable. When I first moved here I went to an internet café where I was surrounded by men looking at porn. So lovely.

Everyone still tells me it takes time, but none of the people who say that have actually moved to a different country on their own.

I am just feeling pissy right now, but that could just be the wine, making me all emotional. I have put on weight, that is making me pissy as well.

I briefly considered telling my game changer that I can’t have him in my life, it’s just too hard. I just miss him too much. I am at a point where I want to call him every day, and have to stop myself from doing it. I don’t want to edit myself like that, I want to be who I am and call when I want to. But that means staying too attached. Never met a game changer before, this shit is hard.

That’s the trouble when you can’t boulder or surf the net, you think too much.

I just need to find a snow globe and shake it a bit, that will lift the spirits.

24.1 12.48

Was up until three this morning setting up my bookshelf despite my sore back. That’s what wine and pain killers are for. I had to get the bookshelf up so I could put some books and snow globes on its shelves.

The thought of packing everything up again in a few months takes away all my enthusiasm. The thought of not packing up frightens the hell out of me. The thought of packing up also frightens the hell out of me. I feel completely adrift in my own life. Sometimes I am quite dumbfounded by this, I would have never thought this would happen. In certain weird and unaccountable seconds this feels good, because I feel like I might be able to do anything, but mostly it feels paralysing, because I am used to having some sort of anchor. The fear of freedom. I had dreamed of having nobody to answer to and nobody to be responsible for. But with that freedom comes the burden of choice. Whatever I do, it is on me.

While I feel very sad and isolated most of the time, the last few months have also released a lot of energy. Or created it. The circumstances have set the scene and I can follow down whatever spiral path to sound myself out. It’s a chance to get to know me. How I tick.

I don’t expect the result to be extraordinary, objectively speaking. I am not going to find the cure for cancer or do anything else remarkable as far as the world is concerned. But if I can take some sort of mini leap for me, do something I didn’t think I could, I would be happy with that.

25.1 11.06

I was invited to go dancing last night. It was the second uninitiated-by-me social thing for me in living memory. The first was an invitation to go to a games night by someone in my dance community back in Australia.

I had met this woman at bouldering and we started talking, as you do when you stand in front of a bouldering problem, catching your breath and getting your sore hands ready for another attempt. We might train together.

Last night she asked me whether I felt like going dancing. I didn’t ask any questions and instantly said yes. It was specifically an ‘over 30s’ event. Nothing wrong with that, but I am becoming really touchy about the whole age thing, in this country you are asked your age in relation to all sorts of random enquiries, it’s just bizarre. On the way to the event my friend told me about one event where there was one entrance for the people under 30, and one entrance for people over 30. She was there with two friends, one of whom was the ungodly age of 40. A young man walked up to her, and asked whether he could take her photo. Sounds good so far? He wanted to send it to his mother to show her that women at that age indeed still go out. I couldn’t believe I was hearing that. I had had it in my head that European men are a little more enlightened than this, but it seems not.

My friend told me about her husband’s comments. He is a self defence instructor and was discussing age ranges of the women he was going to teach. He preferred if they were no older than 18, 22 was too old for him. My friend seems to be a grounded and intelligent woman, not a ditz, and yet she is with someone who makes comments like that. He might be wonderful in all other respects, but really, comments like that cut right at the knees. My friend said she never used to be worried by that attitude, while she was still in that ‘desirable’ age bracket. She is leaving it behind now, so it is beginning to hit. I was never in the group of desirable females, so I am used to not be pursued, so for me the fall is not quite as hard. This husband has also categorically declared that a woman should never be older than a man, and he had actually asked her how old I am. He knows nothing about me, and that is the one thing he wanted to know. I have definitely become more invisible.

Use it as fuel. I shall continue to wear bright and fitted dresses (I wore hot pink last night, which stood out in a sea of black), and flowers in my hair. I am going to rock the burlesque photo shoot.

25.1 15.12

I just spent a few hours unpacking mementos, hair flowers, all my pretty dresses and books. Partly compensation shopping, partly purchases I made because I love to dance and read. Well, I used to love to read, be transported somewhere else by a book, something I can’t manage to do at the moment.

I need to practice the art of reading again.

All those dresses. At least they never just cluttered my wardrobe, I used to wear them, both to dance and to work. Bright colours, big jewellery. It used to give me joy. Now I will wear those dresses again to keep me ‘me’. When the day is really grey I will put a flower in my hair.

While I was unpacking this morning, I listened to the radio which the previous renter had left behind (thank you!!! TV is so appalling and anyway I still haven’t found the TV cable yet), and the station uncannily played all the songs that were played in the last couple of months back in Australia. I used to listen to them on my way to dance on Friday and Sunday nights. I loved that time, I was getting ready to start a new life.

It feels weird hearing those same songs again, when things haven’t quite worked out as planned. I miss the comfort and the tranquility from those last few months back in Australia. I just don’t want to be sad all the time.

I briefly considered throwing everything away. The dresses, the books, even the trinkets. But it’s too soon for that, too soon for contempt of the things that have marked my journey. I am just angry now, angry and sad, and I want to lash out at something. Break something. Maybe punish myself for something.

I had a candle I couldn’t even remember I had and lit it. Candle light is beautiful.

Once more into the fray.

26.01 15.54

Unsettled, unsettled, unsettled

I have signed up to all sorts of websites that advocate the possibility of doing something different, of making massive changes to your life. Trying to find something that will help me decide what I want to do. Without going on an expensive discovery weekend though.

One attendant of such a weekend posted a picture of a piece of butcher’s paper that shows the results of hours of brainstorming. It shows writing in different colours, which lists the things the participants like, dislike, what they feel motivated by etc. One quick glance shows the same thing over and over. It’s a little disappointing in the end. People long for more creativity and fewer corporate constraints. They want to be valued and given freedom to use initiative. They want to use their people skills. They don’t want to be stuck in an office.

It’s what we all want. It’s all vague. The workshops are designed to give you a momentary buzz and fill you with the sense of what is possible. Then you have to go home and actually find this new and amazing job in order to pay the bills. And that’s when it all falls over. If I applied for one of the jobs advertised on one of those sites with my desire for something more creative I would probably only hear the sounds of crickets as a response.

When people tell me that they miss my nice energy I feel a little embarrassed, almost like an impostor, because I don’t even remember her.

Shit.

27.1 10.32

My game changer artefacts have somehow mingled with my other stuff. It stings looking at them, but I don’t cry. The intensity of my sadness is no longer the same. And sometimes I feel a little ridiculous that the heartbreak was quite as intense as it was. I had only known him for such a short while. My wingwoman’s mother died suddenly a while ago, and at times I almost feel like I had no right to feel so sad, and mention this sadness in the same conversation when she mentioned hers. Nobody I had loved dearly had died, I hadn’t lost someone I had known all my life. My loss seemed pitiful in comparison. And yet I felt it. And I have cried a lot over it.

I feel grateful that he hasn’t discarded me. Few things hurt as much as being discarded.

The sensible voice tells me to throw that stuff in the bin and that I would be better off spending all my energy on me, rather than him (whom I am still crazy about).

The cynical voice tells me of course he is not discarding me right now, he is stuck in the middle of nowhere, cleaning and renovating his mother’s house.

Neither voice is winning.

My pulled back muscle still hurts, my calves still hurt.

But I finally started eating some of the chocolates I had bought for his visit, that is the longest chocolates have ever, ever lasted with me.

27.1 22.19

Still the same, checking constantly who is online, nearly crying when someone say something nice, nearly crying for almost no reason at all, wondering who the person with the positive energy is they are talking about.

I didn’t expect to be lonely like this, sad like this, heartbroken like this. I wasn’t ready. I am going around in circles in my head. All the time. It’s so tiring. It’s boring me and wearing me out. I have choices, I am healthy and I don’t have to go hungry. I am lucky.

I feel guilty because I don’t feel grateful.

But my pain is my pain, my tears are my tears, and to me my emotions are powerful, all encompassing, frightening, bewildering, disempowering utterly overwhelming.

I didn’t expect it, but there it is. And I will try and use it as fuel.

28.1 21.37

I had a real belly laugh today, the second one since I got here. It was caused by some dry comments by colleagues in the kitchen about the coffee machine that was making weird noises. That German humour is there, you just have to find it. I doubled over with laughter, it was such a release, my jaw and stomach hurt. When I got back to my desk I nearly cried. I miss belly laughs so much, I miss spontaneity so much. I just don’t know how to make it happen, I just don’t know.

They are still stuck on the same playlist on the radio, the songs I listened to in Australia just before I left. They evoke really good memories and pull me back from shitty places.

I turn up the volume and either sit and reflect, or I dance. Not having much furniture has its advantages, there is room to move.

Someone suggested to me I could use my positive energy to turn things around in the office. I would have to actually sit near people for that, which I don’t. She said to me that ‘it’s all just a matter of your own attitude’, but also wouldn’t even go and see a movie on her own because, well, she would just feel awkward. That just pissed me off.

Skyped my game changer again, I still feel wonderful when I talk to him, I still want to tell him first and I still consider ending it all, this friendship-thing we have.

Of course I won’t end the friendship-thing.

Too much thinking, too many choices. I am thinking myself out of making a decision. About anything.