A New Country
I moved to China. Why did I move to China?
I've been asking myself this question for the better part of the last month and a half. Before the move I'd written, confidently, that this is the best choice for me despite how scary it seemed. I was stuck in a haze after quitting my job, spending most of my time alone (with 2 cats), and the ebbing away of time was frightening, but not enough for me to make a change. So I decided the only way to force myself to wake up and reassess was to change my environment entirely. And in that respect, it worked; I am now filled with anxiety about the haze, as opposed to just living through it. Is that better? I'm not sure yet.
My time here so far has been rough, dealing with unreliable landlords and loud neighbors. I have already had to confront myself on how much having 2 cats have negatively impacted my life and, to be very blunt, if I'm capable of taking care of them going forward. I don't know the answer to that yet, either.
But most of all I'm having to face my fear of other people. My personality is an unfortunate mix of needing close relationships and also pushing them away. In Seattle my friends can check up on me every couple of weeks, but here I am beyond their reach and help. I've already spent weeks embroiled in the anxiety that I'll be devoid of social contact for the next n-number of years, while fully aware that the only one who can save myself from that dreadful future is me. But goodness is it scary. And now I have a language/culture barrier too -- my Chinese is passable in conversation, but not for extended periods of time, and I'm wholly ignorant on the social norms here. (All the girls wear make up, all the time. I do not do that and do not want to.)
Not a fun blog post by any means, but it is how things are for me at the moment. There's still time for the dice to roll, I suppose. As long as I'm still living, things can change for the better.