speaking of sadness

I haven’t wanted to write anything here in a while because it seems like every week things change and I can’t seem to find a space of peace and stability. This whole year has been like that though. It’s been one fucking mess. It’s been both the best and worst year of my life. The highs have been incredibly high and the lows have brought me into a deep sadness. Speaking of sadness—I think I may be depressed. I think. Everything seemed to go downhill since my visa ended. And now that I’m back in Perth, things have only begun to get worse. I don’t mean my life has gotten worse—just my mental health.

I went out for a drink with Lien last night. I cried to her over a bottle of chilled Radikon. I was telling her how being sad in London is fine for me but being sad in Perth is worse because you shouldn’t be sad in Perth. Perth is a paradise! The sun! The beach! The money! How could you hate Perth? I don’t know how many times I can try to explain to people that I’ve just never liked Perth. I love it. But I don’t like it. I’ve never felt connected to it and it’s never felt right for me. I’ve never wanted to be here. I never saw myself staying in Perth. I never saw myself settling down here in a nice house with a backyard and going for coastal walks in the mornings and brunch on the weekends. I never saw any of that for myself.

Ever since I was young all I’ve ever wanted to do was get out of Perth. It started with a lot of travelling around the world. And when I finally moved to London—I’d finally found a city that felt like home. So leaving London has been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to go through. I thought I was okay when I got to Perth but I really wasn’t. I’m really not.

I’m struggling to leave my bed when I don’t have work or plans scheduled with friends. I’m binge watching a lot of shows. I’m emotionally exhausted from crying. I have both private and public breakdowns almost every day. I don’t feel present in life. I don’t feel like myself. And on top of everything else—I miss him so so much. And my heart has slowly been breaking not knowing what will happen.

I know that good things are ahead of me. There are things to look forward to. But none of it is making me excited. None of it is making me happy because I can’t focus on anything other than the fact that my heart is hurting—for a home that I can’t live in and a boy so far away.