…but I get lost.
I get lost a lot lately. Lost in what I thought I was, lost in what I learn I am, and lost in what I communicate to the world. Might be lost in some kind of existential crisis actually. I realize I have provoked its arrival on my own, coming home, changing my surroundings, the language, the mentality and basically everything. I thought I came prepared but boy… has it been hard.
I write *has been* but it still is. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and my long blog-silence is due to this crisis. That light is why I am writing again. I get annoyed with myself when I bail out (blog-wise) and stop writing when things get too tough, but I just haven’t been able to see myself out of this crisis. I write crisis in lack of a better word. Actually I have been so close to falling into a depression as I ever was. This might not seem like much, the best part of the people close to me has had a depression, I know that it is not so rare. *I* have just never woken up in the mornings, not knowing why to get up, what to do with my time, not caring for showers, food, music, wine or anything else. And it was shocking to realize “hey, I have all the symptoms of a depression”. Shocking to hear myself say to my dad “Jeg kan ikke mere”.
I can (and could) not say it any clearer.
“Jeg kan ikke mere.”
I was not drained for energy, i was just… apathetic. Uncaring. It was one of the most scaring things I have ever lived. And it made me feel …. fragile. I have never felt fragile. Vulnerable yes, soft, sweet and open. All feelings that are reversible. A control I might let go of, something that I could take back when it wasn’t appropriate. I never felt fragile, like something that might break and not be fixable.
I am too wellread to believe a depression has to have a reason. Things were peachy. Not perfect but I have lived a challenging life in circumstances most people might not be comfortable in. Nothing outrageous, but much work, changing hours, much material insecurity, much chaos, much temper. I felt I could handle it. But I pushed myself too far and I didn’t have my usual outlets, my creative stuff, my friends.
I simply ran out of mojo. And when I thought logically about it, I realized I had been fighting for 4 months, ever since I came home. Fighting to get the job, the apartment, the boyfriend (whom I left and got back to around christmas), all the while fighting with a new language, new challenges work-wise, a new mentality, a new climate etcetera, etcetera.
Small wonder I felt tired.
I am taking care of myself now. I lost my boyfriend in the process (and that’s another story. He did what *he* could) but I know I’m worth loving again. I miss my friends a lot but I talk to them and I slowly start seeing people here that might be friend-material. I live in a place that I love and where I can stay for as long as I want to. I rock workwise and have been asked to come along now we’re opening the second restaurant in the center, to help shape the place from the start. I have started cooking again and I want to go out dancing soon.
So I am getting there.
I can’t believe how fragile I felt. I still have bad moments, but joy and beauty touches me again. I missed that.
A very dear friend i once had, used to describe me as a monster. He said it in an affectionate and half-admiring way, explaining that monsters of the fairytales always are beautiful, incredible, unique, bestowed with superpowers and one-of-a-kind. But a monster non the less. He said it in reference to the way I handle my emotions. And a part of me felt he was right, I have always had incredible control over *what I do* with my feelings, I have always been able to do what was good for me. This time I lost it, and I feel so very much more human for it.
I called him today just to hear his voice but I put down the phone without speaking; all of a sudden I didn’t know what to say. I haven’t spoken to him in quite some years now, but it was a comfort just to hear his voice, though I felt weak doing it, not monsterlike and invincible at all. Sweet irony. He would have loved to hear it if I had spoken.
And to think it took me all this time to get here.
I think coming back to Denmark might yet be the biggest adventure of all.