My panic attack.

3

23/09/2010 by etiennefish

My forays into the world of adulthood and responsibility currently aren’t going so swimmingly. I’ve thought about trying to write about this and making it funny, or amusing, but I’m not quite at the ‘I’m so far beyond hope that I can’t help but laugh’ phase, which I  suppose is saying something. But things aren’t good. For instance, I’ve got one month before student loans are due (happy birthday to me!) and my job ends, and here I am, stuck in a foreign country, which absolutely no clue what to do, and no one’s going to sort it out for me. My permit will soon expire, I can’t afford to live here with the job I have, what’s going to happen when that goes away? To top it off, I am completely and utterly done with being poor in a country where no one else is. What am I supposed to be doing in this situation? Am I supposed to cross continents and a giant ocean with my two fuzzy cats and move in with my parents? Where else do I go? It’s just really hard getting rejection letters in my inbox everyday. I thought that things would be different after getting a master’s degree. Instead, I’m poorer than before and in massive debt besides (yay…). I was a firm believer that things always work themselves out in the end. It’s just that this time I’m not so sure that’s actually going to happen. Yep. I’m panicking. And nope. It’s not pretty. It’s all-consuming and self-absorbing (you know, more so than my usual), and if I’m boring myself with my rants, I can’t imagine what they’re doing to my friends. It’s a testament to their good will and fabulousness that they’re still (at least pretending) to listen. I’m really kicking myself for not applying to universities when I should have. Why didn’t I just do that!?!? I could be starting a new course right now, which is what I ultimately want to do eventually anyhow. I just got too complacent, too blasé about everything I guess, and I was worried about not being sure. Screw that. Is anyone really sure? I mean, I think there’s been like exactly 3 things in my life that I’ve ever been sure of, and I’ve cocked each of those things up royally, so I’m pretty sure that there’s not actually any benefit in being sure. At this point, though, it’s fairly likely that I’m getting close to the 3 digits, if I haven’t already reached it, in terms of the number of jobs I’ve applied to over the past few months. And to top it all off, no one’s exactly beating down the door. So far, the response has been a slow but steady trickle of form rejections. Awesome. Really makes you feel pretty stellar. I mean, I’m surprised that I haven’t been driven to steady diet of whiskey and uppers yet. So yes, I’ve had two interviews to jobs I’m not sure I can afford to take, in places far enough away that I’m not sure I can even get to them. I want to know what I’m going to do. I want some security that says I’ll be all right. I want to know where I’m going to be in a month and a half. I don’t want to feel like a failure. And most importantly, I don’t want to be a grown-up. I want to return to the days when everything is a possibility. When I get to be creative, and create, and enjoy my days instead of worrying about how to survive. I want to write, and read, and act, and dance, and photograph the world. I want to remember how it feels to know that it’s all going to all be okay in the end. From where I’m sitting, I don’t see any up side to growing up. Peter Pan I may not actually be, but I’m still searching for my Never Neverland.

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3 thoughts on “My panic attack.

  1. Raphaelle says:

    check your email

  2. […] even after months of job-hunting, this is where I’m still at: My panic attack. I like to think, though, after living in this state for so long that I have an outward veneer of […]

  3. […] will come my way… and still pretty much in exactly the same position as last time I had a panic attack. Well, except for that fact that now, my permit to live in this country runs out in about 3 weeks […]

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