Day 22: My Anxiety Arrived in Australia
I’ve been struggling with my anxiety since I moved to Sydney. I’ve been spending a lot of time alone, a notion that had felt initially exhilarating and amazing. I had spent hours imagining myself galavanting around the beaches or in the CBD wandering around looking for bookstores and novel little cafes. I’d never lived in another country before, where I knew virtually no one and had the opportunity to do whatever I pleased.
After the first two weeks the novelty wore off and I watched my friends social media feeds as they moved on with their lives, without me. They are having fun, I thought, and I’m not. It only took two weeks to experience my first bout of FOMO. With no job and no other connections besides my girlfriend, I did not have many outlets in which to meet people.
The anxiety of wanting to have connection and the fear of never finding it became palpable. It gripped me, putting pressure on my muscles and sending my mind into a torrent of self-doubt. A negative feedback loop of ‘what ifs’. This happened every time I stepped out of the house to run errands or grab a coffee. Initially I could feel my usual confidence, excited at the idea of getting outside even for the smallest of adventures. When I arrived at my destination, I would feel suddenly out of my element.
What if the barista didn’t understand my accent? What if I used the incorrect terminology? How many times can I ask someone to repeat themselves before it becomes annoying?
I felt my foreign-ness everywhere I went, trying to cover up my American like it didn’t live in my voice. My mind assumed that anyone I came into contact with would immediately think, look at this dumb American making a complete ass of herself. An idea that never bothered me before. Logically, no one was probably thinking in these terms. As humans, we tend to get caught up in our own thoughts and rarely take into consideration someone else’s personal dialogue. Especially in quick daily interactions, like buying a coffee.
In an international city like Sydney, foreigners are a dime a dozen. Australia is like the United States of the southern hemisphere, a lot of immigrants and travelers come here for the endless opportunities. Despite rational reasoning, I could not shake the idea that everyone I encountered would think of me as an outsider. The thought alone was enough to keep me inside my apartment, focusing on decorating, organizing, and making a home for us. Anything that was within my control.
When I did venture outside, I kept to myself taking walks with my headphones in or laying out on the beach. One day, when I mentioned this to Lauren she asked, “you don’t think you could go up to someone and just strike up a conversation?”
Of course, I could. I knew I had the capacity to begin a conversation with a perfect stranger. In my head I imagined the awkwardness and vulnerability of putting myself out there only to be rejected. The most likely chance of striking up a random conversation was reserved for life’s universal annoyances, like being forced together on a crowded train or just missing the elevator and watching the doors close. No, I was rarely one to make friends out of thin air.
I’d never had trouble spending time alone. Solitude has always been a necessary part of my self-care. I used to love shopping on my own, running errands without the added distraction of someone else’s whims. I would hike by myself and take myself out on movie dates. It felt as though that independent part of me had not crossed the international date line, leaving my anxiety the space to take over the driver’s seat.
The more anxious I became the harsher I treated myself. You’re capable of doing this, I’d think, just do it! This is a time to enjoy yourself, stop overthinking. You should be happy.
I am happy. I’m living with my girlfriend in another city that people dream of and only a 15 minute walk from the beach. I was also sad. I missed California. I missed being able to walk up the hill to my friends apartment or meeting them for a day at the lake. I miss having a job. I know, I’ve got the perfect set up, funemployed in Sydney. However, not having a daily purpose and too much time to think can really change a woman.
Still, I was craving old comforts.
I had been riding high on the idea of change for so long, that I had overlooked the reality on the other side. I was certain that everything would be all right, because life always manages to work itself out. What I had not thought of, in those giddy months leading up to my move, was the level of work required to meet “all right” half way. I don’t make friends easily, so I have to set my social anxiety and fears aside and put myself out there. I don’t have a job, so I have to network and upskill myself until I find the company willing to give me an opportunity. I don’t know everything I want out of my life, so I have to sit with myself until I know.
Now that I stood firmly in reality, I realized that I was standing at the base of a great mountain. There is no where to go but up.
