family – Page 4 – Honest Lies

A day at the Welsh Mountain Zoo

Snow Leopard Female Sumatran Tiger Fallow Deer Przewalski's Wild Horse Snow Leopards Snow Leopard fur Snow Kitty Snow Kitty about to climb a tree Snow kitty climbing a tree Snow Kitty in a tree Red Panda Red Panda Cubs Margay Meercat Birds View of the nearby village and sea

The boxing day before last my sister, my father and I went to the welsh mountain zoo – primarily to see the snow leopards. A few months prior to that my sister had been to see the two new snow leopard cubs, and she wanted to see how they were getting on. My sister loves animals, and of them, cats are her favourite. She didn’t want to leave the zoo that time, because she was enjoying watching the snow leopard cubs so much! During that visit we saw that the zoo was raising money to refurbish the snow leopard enclosure, and I made a mental note of that.

Fast forward: last year, Christmas. I thought to adopt one of the leopards for my sister, as a donation and fabulous present. I was poking around the website though and discovered the animal encounters. For a small fee, you can meet the zoo keeper and get a little closer to an animal of your choice and feed them. For the snow leopards there would be a safety barrier of course- this wasn’t like the tiger centre my sister and I went to in Changmai, where the tigers were as tame and playful as domestic kitties (and the one we went to they were not drugged. We absolutely do not support that!) We were able to meet them and touch them and they loved…well tolerated, cats are cats are offish, it. These snow kitties were a little wilder. I still thought my sister would love it.

Fast forward further: this year, the 2nd of January. The encounter ticket allowed a third person to come but not take part. So my dad came alone to act as taxi driver and photographer. We were worried about the weather, but it was still and calm as we drove and we didn’t know it then, but it was going to remain that way- with an icy edge to the air that the snow leopards would love. We got to the zoo around 1pm and went to see the tigers first, then the paddocks with a a very out of place ostrich pair and some beautiful Przewalski’s wild horses and deer. The horses were very shy and the deer were very curious – the one deer had lost sight in its one eye though, the poor thing, so it was struggling to be curious: it was trying to look at me but you could tell it couldn’t focus. We then ended up getting a little lost and not seeing too much and having to rush to get to the office to meet the zoo keeper. Thankfully the zoo keeper was a little late, so there were no problems. He led us to the snow leopard enclosure and took us to a small part round the back, where there was just one fence separating us from the cats. He set down a bucket of meat, my sister and I put on gloves, and then we took turns feeding the kitties using very long, very strong metal prongs whilst chatting to the zoo keeper. Our dad was let round the back, but had to stand back and was not allowed to feed them. This made photographing easy for him.

The kitties were adorable. It was just the parents and the boy cub left- who wasn’t much of a cub any more! He was pretty huge. We found out from the zoo keeper that the leopards reject their children at about two years old, so they try to send them away before that. The sister/girl had been sent down south, and the brother/boy was 18 months old, and ready to go, but was being sent to Japan which would take a bit more time and paperwork! Of the three only the boy ate, he ate it all! The parents could have chased him off but they couldn’t be bothered.

Soon enough the food dwindled and disappeared. My sister and I de-gloved and sanitised our hands then we were allowed to stand for a moment to observe and talk more with the keeper. He has been with the snow leopards from the start, so he knew everything. It was really interesting. The snow kitties themselves were fairly active- washing and lazying and playing around. My sister took pics but I trusted in my dad, I just wanted to enjoy the moment …be more present…not see it from behind the lens?

Eventually it had to end, we parted with the cats and their keeper and then went to look around the zoo some more- I was pretty keen to see the red pandas! Unfortunatly one was curled up in its tree and completly passed out, but the other climbed down just as we got there, and led us straight to the two red panda cubs they have. They were tucked up in the private area of their enclosure, but we could just about see them from afar. At two months old, they seemed full grown! Then we meandered around some more, and eventually ended up at the Margay enclosure where we had our second lucky encounter of the day – the Margay was out! It was darting around so fast we only just saw it, and could hardly photograph it, but its a very shy, nocturnal creature so it was pretty exciting to get even a glimpse! I think I saw a similar cat at a night zoo in Asia, but it was something else to have it come out in the day.

Honestly, it was an amazing day out. There weren’t any crowds and all the animals were about, even the kitties and we even caught site of the brown bears… The zoo is lovely and small and always quiet in the winter, which makes for a very pleasant day out. I’m so happy with how thrilled my sister was with it all too. This Christmas was the first that I was working so I went all out with my presents, and I feel so happy to finally be able to give back to my family not only the wonderful things they have blessed me with, but the wonderful experiences.

Kitty may have eaten too much…

Starry Starry Night

I’m sitting in my favourite armchair with my cat asleep on my lap, just as I envisioned. A perfect moment, if not for the stiffness in my body from sitting in one place for so long.

I’ve been home for a week now and I’m really getting into this hanging around the house doing nothing business, which is probably not a good thing. Soon it will be new years and back to the usual work sleep routine.

Christmas was nice this year. I came home on Christmas eve and so did my sister, and so for a few days the whole family was under the same roof. There was much bickering but also laughter, my sister and I ganging up to annoy our parents like we used to.

I expected to be dragged out of bed for Christmas day, but I was still in the work routine, and my cat was hungry, so I ended up waking/being woken early and sitting around waiting for everyone else. My cat kept me company, at least. Finally everyone woke up and the usual Christmas routine started- all of us sat around the tree, my sister handing out the presents, and only once they have been carefully divided and pile size compared does the opening begin. I got some lovely presents. As is now usual, most were very practical- a throw to cover my white armchair, kitchen items, a few bits of clothing and plenty of little bits to decorate my home in.

After that I helped my dad with lunch, we ate a ridiculous amount and then came the rather dull part of christmas- the part where you run out of celebrations, but its still Christmas!!, so you feel a bit dejected and bored and unsure what to do.

I guess I did feel uncomfortable at home those first few days, too. Still finding my footing, reacquainting myself with my old room and all my old things. Living at home has its advantages- free, unlimited food, my cat, my father’s tablet, the bread maker, no chores! But there is also having to deal with people all around you at all times, and the noise of them can be comforting, but then there’s the arguing and my mothers criticsm, her constant complaining and my father’s passive aggressive remarks and that sucks.

I have hardly left the house. Which may be why I’m feeling stifled. My parents have been sweet- they both went crazy buying my favourite foods for instance. I also enjoy doing nothing, but it worries me how much. I did venture out for a days shopping and the movies with my sister, where I nearly spent £100 on an item and still want to, and my dad and I went to the pet shop to get cat food and look at the little animals there.

Yep, its all very boring and lazy right now. I want to get back to my apartment and my own space. But I also want to stay in the safety and comfort of the nest. I do not want to leave my cat. I am nervous about work.

I really can’t believe how fast this year is coming to its end.

“There is a fire deep inside us, and nobody else can see when it burns out.”

The longer you step back from blogging, the harder it is to step back in. You want to write a casual entry, but it feels like you have to fill in the spaces between, and it becomes awkward. So here I am discussing this awkwardness to ease back in. There will be gaps, perhaps.

Let’s just pretend they aren’t there.

I have now finished work for 2015. I have until January the 4th to collect my thoughts before starting again. Starting work has not been easy. By November I was back at the doctor’s office to get stronger medication and a referral to counselling. I’ve had a lot of problems sleeping and getting out of bed in the morning: it was humiliating being told off by my boss for tardiness. This isn’t who I am. But it, sadly, is who I let myself become. I tried to start running. I envisioned those characters in books and movies running away from their sadness and their anger and frustration, and unfortunately the reality is not so swift and graceful or relieving. I stopped running. I did some more Yoga, but not really enough. I took the stronger medicine. I ate badly and relied on plenty of sugar to get me through the days. Well, that is what I have been doing. That is what I am still doing. Work is very difficult, very challenging. I love it, it’s everything, everything I have ever wanted but it’s also very new, very different, and did I mention hard? There is a steep adjustment curve coming fresh from university. I am trying, trying much harder, taking every day at a time and persevering. I want so badly for this to work. To become the person I envision in my mind, and not let this anxiety cripple me.

My new city is still very different, and a little overwhelming. I have settled nicely into my new flat – I have my new marimo, I have been slowly increasing furniture, putting more pictures up, trying to keep up with the chores (there’s a rabbit hole you cannot fall down when you aren’t feeling mentally well: whatever happens, keep cleaning, keep showering, keep putting your best clothes on. Do not let your surroundings mirror your feelings, or they will consume you.) I have been into town a few times, and each time felt better and more proud of myself as the crowds make me feel just a little less shaky and nauseous. Somehow, I got my Christmas shopping done. I also invited my mother and my sister round to my flat for my mother’s birthday. My sister and I took our mother to see Girls, the musical based on the calendar girls. It was very British and very funny. My mother loved it. Before that, we took her out to a fancy supper. The place was loud and crowded and I hated it, but my mother thrived on the energy of all those people and being out. I was so happy to make her happy – this was my idea, and it had worked, I thought. The next day was not so great – my sister was grouchy, and my mother and I reacted to it, and it was pouring with rain, so a trip to the city centre to shop was not pleasant. We had to rush, too, which didn’t help. Then we went home. I felt sad and disappointed as to how things had turned out. We had a fancy lunch on Sunday, the whole family and my sister’s boyfriend, and I am embarrassed by how snappish and moody I was. I guess that childishly I wanted to get back at my sister. Her boyfriend was there – let me make her feel that same uncomfortableness I did on Saturday. Let her taste that bitter disappointment. That was my outing, and you ruined it. I can be a terrible person sometimes, especially when my anxiety isn’t stable. I can be so withdrawn and cruel when I am hurting. Its so easy to become self-absorbed when hurt. Pathetic, really. After lunch, my Dad took me home and the work/sleep cycle started again.

I will be going home for Christmas. Home again. I keep going home. Returning to the safety of the nest. I envision myself in a comfortable armchair, cat snuggled up on my lap, a warm and heavy weight slowly causing my legs to go numb, her claws slightly pressed into my thigh. A book, my kindle, browsing on my father’s tablet. The sound of the birds outside. The sound of my father and mother, inside, somewhere in the house. I want to be home.

And yes, it’s Christmas. I don’t feel particularly fazed, as ever. I never like this time of year. Its dark, the year is closing before I am ready for it to, and I want to go home to South Africa, and to what once was. Every year, the same heavy feeling of homesickness, but now, for the first time, it is rather the memory of it. I no longer have anything to long for, and the absence of those ties is perhaps worse than having them. I want to go back, fetch the rope and stretch it back out. Tie the knots a little tighter this time.

Next year I will be 24. I will have spent 18 years of my life in the UK. Some other dates, all around this time. My grandmother will be dead for three years. My cat, it is her 10th birthday on Christmas, which she nearly didn’t make – she had cancer, and maybe still has it. We are all ageing, moving slowly towards the inevitable end. I feel older. But also too young. I work every day feeling like I slipped into an alternate universe, or into another point of time, and am having to adjust despite my alienation and lack of understanding of this new, foreign culture. Next year, I will be working for the whole year. This is my life now. Its thrilling, but terrifying. Where will I be next year? Will I finally adjust? Will the counselling work out, third time a charm? Will I ever stop feeling embarrassed for every little thing I do or say?

The future and all the potentials it holds are enormous, it’s overwhelming, it’s amazing. Here’s to next year, here’s to this year. I survived it, in the end. Never thought I would, to be honest.

Post Title: a softer world

“But here we are in the weeds again, here we are in the bowels of the thing: your world doesn’t make sense.”

Sunday 27th September, on a train travelling North

Late on Friday night I texted my father “I want to come home.” It had started with my washing machine. The washing machine in my flat is unusable, so I’m going to switch it with my own, much better one. Unfortunately my dad and I can’t lift it ourselves, so we need my sister to help. She was on holiday, so it was supposed to be this weekend once she had come back that it would be moved. Unfortunately my sister got sick. So no washing machine. I felt frustrated and started to long for home comforts. I love my flat but it’s still not quite my home. I wanted clean washing and to see my cat, and just for a time, to be a child again. On Saturday morning I woke to a text from my father-“why don’t you [come home]?”. Why don’t I? I thought, and impulsively decided to go for it.

I had a doctor’s appointment at 2pm, so I booked an afternoon train. I spent the morning cleaning and organising the flat and packing, and so after the doctors I could pretty much grab my stuff and go. I arrived in the city centre without fuss, but the city was busy and I felt myself beginning to panic as I wove through the crowds. There were too many people. Too much noise. I managed to sort out tickets and get to the platform, which was also packed. The train before mine was nearly full to the point I wondered if the station crew were going to have to start pushing people to fit, like they do in Asia. I was feeling sick and shaky at this point, and burdened by my heavy bags. I began to wonder if it was stupid, this impulsive trip. All I wanted was to do my laundry, see my cat and be nurtured, and how childish it all was. My train came and I squeezed on. I had to stand the whole way but I got home all right. My dad picked me up from the station and I couldn’t stop rambling on as we drove home. We stopped at the supermarket and drove on. Still I was nattering away, so happy to be home and to be with my dad. I didn’t get home sick like this at university. Yet I had spent my Friday night looking at pictures of my family and my cat and feeling so very alone.

I got home and we ordered takeout. We went to pick up the food and the whole shop smelled like chargrilled meat, and it took me right back to when I was living in Malaysia. I used to be able to buy a stick of chargrilled, spicy chicken with a freshly made naan and garlic sauce for very little. I used to love it as a late night snack after studying in the library for hours. I could hardly stand sitting there waiting for my food, the smell was so strong and familiar. The food in the canteen in Malaysia wasn’t all amazing, yet it was cheap and convenient. I sometimes miss being able to walk down in 5 minutes and pick up a large meal or a snack, without having to worry about price.

Anyway, after a delicious supper, I spent some time with my dad looking at his most recent pics. Then he dragged out the old family videos, much to my embarrassment. My father loved it though. In a surprising twist, it is my father suffering from empty nest, whilst my mom is fine. My dad was so happy to have me back. And it’s clear he is amazed and emotional over the fact that his little girls have grown up. He is so proud of my sister and me, but I think there is an element of sadness that we aren’t young and cute and fully dependent anymore. My father is protective, and you can tell he doesn’t quite want to let go (even if he is, this isn’t that kind of story). Look, he said, at the one video. That one (my cousin) is a vet, that one (my sister) is a chemist and that one (me) is an engineer. Who could tell at that time? He said. Which is, of course, true. I don’t think my parents really had a plan, or guidelines, they followed when raising us. They must be feeling quite relived it all turned out all right ;) My sister and I definitely surprised them at times. We both have elements of our parents in us, but I think we must have surprised our parents sometimes in just what their parenting was turning out (I believe in both Nature and Nurture.) Take that both ways – my sister and I both went through some rough phases. And of course, my father got very gooey over how cute my sister and I were, to my embarrassment and mock annoyance (“what do you mean by were?”)

Tuesday 29th September, a hotel room near London Heathrow

The next day my sister came round. Well, we picked her up and brought her home, as she was too sick to drive. She was pale and a little irritable, but otherwise good company for a sick person. Me, my dad and my sister squished onto the couch to watch some of her pics. The rest of the day followed as a quiet one spent with family and my cat, just as I had wanted. I was glad to go home after all. I needed it. I was a little sad to return to my new city, but at least the journey back was less crowded (I could sit!) and even getting from the train station to my flat turned out to be fairly painless.

Wednesday 30th September, a restaurant in London Heathrow

On Monday I went in to work, but only for a short time as I had a graduate Induction event on Tuesday and Wednesday which I was flying down to London Heathrow on Monday for. My flight was at 9pm so I didn’t feel too worried about missing it…at first. Monday was one of those days where everything, no matter how you plan it, everything goes just a little wrong. I was just a little late for the bus I wanted in the morning, so I had to wait 40 minutes until the next, and was subsequently late to work. I got home again OK, and I packed and left the house OK, but just didn’t make it to the bus stop in time and had to watch the bus I wanted pass me by. That bus was just a little early. The next was, of course, just a little late. I got on, got off, and then found myself stranded in the middle of the countryside waiting for my connection. By this point it was about 7pm. The bus was at 7.30pm. I waited, and waited and fretted if it would or would not come. But it did, and I got to the airport on time. I checked in and waited around then got my flight. The airport was so small that it was all extremely quick and easy. It was a short and relatively painless flight too and I got to London, where I exited terminal 5 and watched as the bus I wanted pulled away. Once again, I was just a little late.

Friday 2nd October, Home

I added dates and locations to this entry, to show how it’s come together. To show how hectic these past days have been, to the point I’m squeezing in quiet down time wherever I can.

Anyway, back to Monday. I waited at London Heathrow outside terminal 5 and eventually the bus came, and eventually I got to the hotel. The hotel was a lot fancier than I expected and I was a bit shocked at the room the company had let me have. It was no tiny, functional room like a Japanese business hotel. Unfortunately there was no free food, which I was really hankering for. I salivated over the room service menu then did the right then and went to take a shower and get ready for bed. I wished I hadn’t got in so late. I had to wake early the next morning, and when my alarm went off all I wanted to do was lie in the glorious hotel king size bed and continue to doze the day away. I dragged myself out with the thought of croissants and bacon and fresh fruit for breakfast at the hotel buffet, which is what did end up happening. It’s my typical hotel buffet treat…though usually I try adding more pastries.

Well, I guess the graduate Induction event was OK. I didn’t enjoy it, I found if far too stressful as a shy, anxious introvert- there were too many people there and what they were selling us was the extroverts ideal career path. But some of the talks were interesting. I also ate a lot of very good food, including over indulging in one too many fancy desserts (5 or 6 little rich morsels a meal…what), which made up for the sheer terror of it all. I did feel my confidence dip though. I had started to feel like I was beginning to settle in to my team at work, but the Induction event brought me right back to my first day- nervous, uncertain and utterly convinced that they’d made some kind of error, that it had been a mistake I was hired. It was a fairly depressing journey back, even if it was more straightforward.

I left the hotel and made the bus I wanted. I got to the airport nice and on time, and dropped my bags and went through security quick enough that I had some time to chill. I went to one of the restaurants and ordered one of the healthy looking meals to make up for all those desserts. I’m not one for salads usually, but sometimes you have to force that rabbit food down. The waiter was really sweet, and I feel bad for messing up the gratuity, even if I have a good excuse of it being my first time giving it. Now I have a salary I know it’s the proper thing to do, but I’ve not quite yet grasped it. Yes, my salary came through on Wednesday, and it wasn’t as much as I was expecting, but it was still more money than I have ever actually owned. Pretty cool.

After my meal I meandered around the duty free before boarding. It was a pleasant enough flight. The staff on my incoming flight were lovely, and then on the outgoing flight they were also really friendly and cheerful. I got back OK, and got a bus, followed swiftly by another, and got back home quickly. Much quicker than the outgoing, thats for sure.

But I was tired, and I did not really want to go in to work yesterday. I wanted to curl up in bed and stay there. I had had enough of dealing with the world to last a good while…but I went into work, and today too, and I did my best to work hard, even if I felt distracted, and demotivated, and negative. I feel a bit embarrassed about that latter one especially.

I’m glad it’s the weekend. I’m going to recharge my batteries so that next week I’ll be ready to throw myself back into work. And be more positive. I don’t hate my job, I am just living with the daily fear I’m not doing it properly, that I’m not good enough…that I’ll never be good enough. The anxious mind, that little traitorous part of my mind, is a little cow. And I found myself listening to it too much, as I retreated into myself to get through the Induction event. I need to rest and recover, as if with a wound to let heal. It will be OK though, of course. It has to be.

Saturday 3rd October, Home

Post title is Richard Siken again. During my foundation year I’d read through Crush on the train journey, again and again, and it soon became an embodiment of my fear and anxiety of that time. That book got me through that difficult year, where nothing was certain, and I was terrified for my future. And now once again I find myself on public transport, a bus this time, holding back tears as I read through those now familiar words. Once again, I find myself feeling those conflicted feelings – grateful to have been given a chance, pleased with my progress, but terrified of what comes next, of stumbling and ruining it all. A certain desperation, moving forward bravely, trying to find something, a clarity perhaps, or perhaps just a freedom from this constant anxiety and self-doubt. It’s funny how certain things come to represent certain other things and this is it with Crush.

I try to read through War of the Foxes the same way but it lacks the intensity, the raw grief, desperation, and let’s face it, misery of Crush. It’s still beautiful, with moments where the darkness of Crush shines through, but its themes are different and I can’t quite sink into it the same way I sunk into Crush. In the beautiful foreword to Crush by Louise Gluck, which I always read first before re-reading the book, she talks about the ferocity of Crush, the way it sinks its teeth into you. War of the Foxes sadly hasn’t done that for me. That didn’t stop me from purchasing the limited edition of it, but that was more to support Richard Siken and his agency, to give back something for what Crush has given me. It didn’t stop me from wishing there was a limited edition of Crush though, with the original, unedited poems (how I wish there was an unedited collection of the works that made it into crush!)

Post Title: Richard Siken - Boot Theory

Forwards

It’s been a while since I blogged, hasn’t it? Typical that I would go on an unintentional blogging hiatus after splashing the front page with my cooking disasters. Typical, and a little embarassing.

I’ve since made another Spicery meal which turned out much better but I haven’t had time to do a write up since starting work. Yep, I’ve now been a graduate electrical engineer for two weeks. It’s been scary and overwhelming and I could go on, but we’ve all been there, starting work for the first time, so I’m sure you’ll understand. Besides, I know I can’t talk about work here. And mostly, I don’t want to write yet another whiny entry complaining about things. In many ways I’m liking my job, I’m amazed and grateful to have it, and I’m learning so much, about things that interest me. And there has been a bunch of other good stuff happening. So I’m going to make this entry a list of positives from these past couple of weeks.

(And hopefully stop writing like this is a report , too)

→ Just before I started work, my parents came round. My mom fell hard for my new place, and whilst me and my dad went off to get lost in a massive ASDA superstore, my mom sat at home in the sun streaming through the living room windows with a magazine. Ok, so she was pretty awesome and cleaned my bathroom too. Once my dad and I got back we set about building some more furniture, then I made food whilst my dad put the finishing touches. It was a nice day, and so much better than sitting around fretting about work. I am so grateful for my family right now. My dad texts or phones me everyday to ask how my day was, and it makes me feel so happy and motivated to hear the pride in his voice. My mom too often calls and reassures me that it’s all going to be OK, and I don’t quite believe her, but I need to hear it anyway.

→ I am in love with my new apartment. I have discovered its bad secret- the bathroom. The shower isn’t electric, and the piping isn’t flush, leaving dark crevices to feed the imagination. The first time I used my shower the water wouldn’t go hot and then a huge spider crawled up from somewhere, and this has marred further experiences. The shower is cramped, and there are mould issues, and I keep waiting for something to crawl out at me. Besides that, I still have massive amounts of space, I have proper, timed, central heating for the first time in 4 years and it is glorious (so cozy). My dad built me a massive bookshelf that day and my lounge looks so homey now, my kitchen is lovely to cook in, I have a vanity table of sorts in my bedroom and it feels real fancy to sit down to do my skin, and my study is great too. The neighbour can play his TV on loud for hours. The bathroom is creepy. But otherwise I’m in love. I feel so relieved and safe when I come home after a long, tiring day. I can shut the door to the world and be alone in my own place. My little retreat against outside, just like I wanted.

→ I’ve still not adjusted to my new city, forever annoyed at its public transport, but starting to settle in. I think I like it here, and I’ve not found myself missing home too much.

→ I do miss my cat though. I was really worried about her but now I can safely say- my cat is well! Context: I mentioned she was underweight and had fleas, so my parents took her back to the vet to check on both issues. She still had fleas, but less. What was really concerning is that she had lost even more weight. Poor kitty had to undergo a blood test to check for bad things. Thankfully the results came back just fine. It may be the fleas distressing her, and the medication we were using to treat them is being changed. Apart from that she’s fine. My dad decided to put her on senior cat food though and this makes me a bit sad. My little kitty is now a senior kitty. She’s still lively but she’s vulnerable now. I just try to reassure myself that she’s well now, and not to think of the future too much. I’m sure she will live until she’s 15+.

→ Last Friday I totally messed up my commute and long story short I ended up talking to a fellow commuter. It was a wierd, messed up evening but for the first time, I realised how lonely I was. I found myself chatting away to this person, talking and laughing and spilling out things I maybe shouldn’t. Be he was interested. And he himself was interesting. And he helped me to get home, and before we parted he gave me his number and now I don’t know what to do. It was a lovely, if surreal, evening and I don’t want it to be ruined by an awkward second meeting. But I want to make friends. I need to figure out a way to make this into something. I will.

→ I have been eating well. I think actually I’ve been doing an OK job looking after myself in general. I’ve been struggling to adjust to work, that 9-5 structure, but I’ve been trying to go to bed early so I can wake up early. Not always succeeded, to embarassing results. And I’m still tired from the long commute and from well, hard work, but I’ve mostly been doing OK. And I’ve been sticking to my goal to one decent meal a day. Been comfort eating a little, but I try and schedule it to Friday nights and Saturday, and then the rest of the week I am reasonably disciplined. I’ve been relying on ready meals and short cuts so I do hope I can get more home cooked food into me. Once I’m more settled though. I try to accept now isn’t the time to put too much pressure on myself to fully recover from my disordered eating habits. And I’m trying to focus on how much better I am compared to before, compared to focusing on how much further I have to go.

→ Talking about discipline, I’ve been super careful with my money lately. No impulse purchases. No excessive spending on comfort food. (My two weaknesses.) hopefully I can keep it up!

→ On Wednesday I went to the open day for language evening courses at a local university. I was super nervous and could barely even speak English to the tutor, let alone Japanese, so I was shocked when he recommended me for the intermediate Japanese classes. Shocked and very relieved. And happy. He said that my kanji weren’t quite up to speed and my vocab was a bit shaky, but my understanding was at a high level. I signed up then and there. Classes start early October. I’ve got so much cramming to do before then and I’m a bit nervous about whether I’ll fit in or have to drop a level (how embarassing!) But I’m super excited. I love Japanese. There’s no real purpose to me learning it but that and I refuse to feel bad about that. I was talking to someone before the tutor could see me and she was saying how she had learnt the language years ago, had stopped, but found she missed it so was starting again now. I know if I stopped learning Japanese I’d miss it. Besides, its a good way to settle into my new city isn’t it? I’ll be able to interact with a bunch of different people outside work and that will be good for me. It will also be good to have something to do outside moping around at home after work.

So, things aren’t too bad. I’m a nervous wreck, anxious to the point I can’t sleep properly and my head hurts, but objectively things are going just fine. I’m going to try get that Spicery post up, and I’ve got some other bits and pieces planned, but right now my focus is work and settling into my new city, so I can’t promise anything.

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