So today is my 6 month anniversary thing (sorta).
Still hard to believe I left home 6 months ago. No real solid plan about what I was going to do, or where I was going to stay/live or how I would manage to support myself until I found a job.
I didn’t even know IF I would even land myself a job!
I just knew I had to do this – and I did.
So here I am, 6 month down the line. I still don’t have permanent residence (I’m kinda floating between places) but at least I got a job (which I hate but still) which I guess is good. There was a point where I thought to myself if I don’t get a job by such and such a time, I would have to admit defeat and go back home, which would have been a very bad thing for me to do. I would have completely given up on life and everything. Like I said, things would have gone from bad to even worse.
I still don’t know how I feel about leaving and stuff. I still feel uneasy about the way I went about things, but I can’t keep dwelling on that and feeling bad about it. It happened.
My plan(s) for my new life haven’t gone according to plan. I thought by now I would have had my own place and a decent steady job and maybe have gone back to school part time, but that isn’t the case.
I shouldn’t really complain about where I am in life right now. As much as I hate the fact that I’m still in the same “place” as I was a few months ago, I have slightly improved my life.
I’m in a much better place (mentally). I still have my off days where I think “what the duck am I actually trying to do?! I can’t do this!” But I must be doing something right if I’m still standing after 6 months (I’m just BARELY standing by the way).
But yeah, I don’t have any regrets about my decision to leave, move to a new country and start afresh.
Things are slowly taking off but I know I’ll make it in the end.