Since my terrible no-good weekend (see the last post), I’ve been hiding from a glaringly obvious truth. I’ve been putting on the game face and being all FINE and GOOD and SUNSHINE as much as possible. Because to do anything else would be admitting it and if I admit it, it’s true and if it’s true, then I have to face it.
Last night I faced it.
The black hole. The sucky annoying black hole.
Let’s face it together, shall we?
It’s been 4 months since I left Canada. Almost four months since I moved here, to a place where I have no friends, no work colleagues. I have The Boy and his family (lovely) and his friends but he’s not a hugely social being so there aren’t a ton of friends to talk about there. And they’re not my friends yet really, except for one or two. I work alone in my rented office and I can go through entire days not talking to anyone (and here I don’t count myself. I talk to myself all.the.time). The other day I was in a store where the salesgirl was Canadian and she commented on my very Canadian pendant. I was so excited to chat to her but eventually I had to leave, as it was getting embarrassing.
My mother called me while I was walking (my mother has a sixth sense) and I started bawling. But still, I couldn’t face it.
I’m lonely. I’m struggling to make friends, to be social, to feel settled. I feel fine when The Boy is around but as soon as he goes off to work, I feel all at sea. The knot in my stomach tightens, the tears well and I have to fight to stay afloat. It’s been worse this week and it’s already getting easier (no crying today as yet) but it’s hard.
And I knew it would be but I don’t think I allowed myself to really know, you know? My exercise has been awful because while I know it always makes me feel better, I can’t get the energy or motivation to actually do it. Chocolate has been awesome if by awesome I mean I’m eating it everyday.
But hey, the first step is admitting you have a problem, right? So here goes: I’m falling into the hole but I’m pulling myself out at the same time. I’ll try not to be all whiny all the time but it’s hard. And I’m doing stuff to get myself out. I have bookclub tonight. I have a cooking class next week when The Boy is away for the whole week (you may need to be there for me next week) and I’m breathing.
That’s a start, right?