January

 

I wrote the following in December, after going back for Christmas.

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I arrived back onto this grey island on the 23rd December, to the sounds of Jet 2's Christmas playlist. I haven't posted in a while, not because I haven't wanted to but more out of a lack of motivation/stimulation. I have felt slightly directionless the past few weeks, following a routine but without any general purpose. I go to and from school, make my lunch, clean the flat, do extra tutoring, sometimes frequent the local pubs at night, but I don't feel fulfilled. Maybe it's a bit self-indulgent to expect that, but I don't think my peers necessarily feel the same way. I think for many the Spanish lifestyle is fun, relaxing, doesn't involve copious amounts of work. But for someone like me, who perhaps a bit sadly enjoys goal-orientated activities 

I've spoken to one language assistant friend about finding the job a little boring and pointless sometimes, which is true 

Coming home has made me realise the things I need to prioritise.

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I never finished this draft, probably because I got Covid in early January (although maybe that would have been a good time to collect my thoughts). It turned out that leaving home the second time round would be even harder for me. Going back to my home and back to Bristol made me realise how much I love the place that I come from. Even though I had the urge to flee, to escape the Isle of Brexit, it will always be home. 

The last couple of weeks have been up and down. I reluctantly dragged myself into school everyday last week, zoned out in every lesson, barely engaged in conversation in the staffroom. I resisted settling back in here. I wanted to go home. I honestly wanted to be anywhere but here.  One of my good friends decided to leave, for personal reasons, and I came up with the fanciful idea that I could leave too and do workaways for the next few months, despite what my bank account says. 

This week I feel better, and I have settled back in. I know myself well enough to recognise that resistance to reality that kicks in sometimes. It happened when I first arrived in Mexico. I was so scared of speaking Spanish that I drew myself towards the anglophones and resisted speaking Spanish as much as I could. I was desperate to feel comfortable, but it only made me feel more frustrated with myself when I ended up feeling isolated. Sometimes you have to feel uncomfortable; you have to go through bad days or weeks to realise something important. Maybe its a cliché, but you have feel to uncomfortable to overcome certain things. I often feel like I'm not pushing myself enough here. Like I'm not making enough of an effort to integrate, to form bonds with people, to make the most of this opportunity. But then again, maybe I'm not focussing on the things that I have achieved, the people I've already met, the places I've visited, the amount that my Spanish has improved. 

I didn't set any New Year Resolutions this year, other than go kayaking (which I haven't yet accomplished as it's too cold). But I was right in realising that I needed to prioritise different things. Now I just need to figure out what they might be.