I'm having Korea flashbacks. The bad kind. Yes, I did end up having wonderful memories in Korea but it took me a while to get there. This life in Mexico is proving just as difficult with totally different factors.
Yes, I can speak Spanish and yes there are people that speak English.
Yes, there are restaurants to go to nearby (for take out these days).
Yes, I'm living without 8 other girls or one very angry one.
Yes, I have access to American TV should I want.
Yes, I'm living in a time zone where I can call my friends and family while I'm awake.
Yes, I have my car.
Yes, I have access to big name stores with all I could want.
But I struggle with depression nearly every day.
No, I don't have a job. Orchestras are no longer working even if I was in the US, but I certainly don't have inroads to one in Mexico at this point.
No, I don't have a place to play my violin every day. I can't even bring myself to play it at all. It's just too depressing.
No, I don't have long walks on the beach, breathing in the fresh sea air.
No, I don't have lovely weekend tours throughout the state.
No, I don't get to be around people everyday (even if they don't speak my language).
No, I don't wake up every day with a purpose even though I have goals and projects.
No, I don't wake up with hope even though I seek it out. The future is blurry and dim each day.
This isn't Mexico's fault. I'm in this predicament through a number of factors; covid and an extroverted personality (needs to be around people to get energy) being the main two.
My days are encompassed within 4 walls. If I open the doors for fresh air the mosquitoes are waiting just outside for a chance to feast during the night. If I go to the store, it's a nightmare of half hour long lines and crowded aisles because Guadalajara is an open city. I really have no where to go anyway. Why go anywhere? I have no job inside or outside. The more I wander around in my car the more I waste gas money. The more I wander around the city streets, the further I get from the possibility of a job. So I sit around all day. I read all my emails, research topics, come up with failing ideas, and do my workout. For some introverts this would be a dream reality. But for me, my energy tank is empty. It's always empty. It gets a small boost every couple of weeks when I stock up at Costco, and I find myself standing straighter and smiling and even daring to hope. And then I get back home and reality smacks me hard in the face and all the dreams I'd just dreamed quickly fade away.
I finally have all the time to do all the things I'd always wanted. I have time to write (but it always comes out negative like this is). I have time to practice (I cry just picking up the case). I have time to study Russian (I can barely bring myself to learn a new word a day in Spanish). I have time to develop new business ideas (I think about them a lot but never get motivated to start any). I have time to read (ok, I've actually done this but with heavy feelings of guilt every time I sit down to enjoy a book instead of working toward a job). Pathetically, possibly, I don't even binge watch Netflix with my time. My days are mostly silent and lonely.
The hole is deep and dark and the sides are slippery.