Crutches

It’s almost 2 months since I moved here in Ottawa. Adaptation is horribly difficult. All weekends I got the sensation of losing my mind, my temper,my breath. Today I vomited, too much stress and loneliness. Again I couldn’t talk to anybody, just a frustrated call to France and I had to hang up for going to the bathroom to puke.

What exactly is the reason of this reaction? Since last week I realized weekends I don’t go out side my ex’s apartment, I don’t drive that much because I’m closer to all services. That was one of my crutches to kill time the weekends in Hull/Gatineau. I discovered my neighborhood. I saw a prostitute corner of Merivale Road and my avenue. Some others were at Carlingwood area. I visited that zone and it can be rough. I was surprised the way gentrification can developed. In another post I’ll talk more about it.

I got exam next Saturday, my Communications course. I didn’t want to study, I feel tired, I cry all the time because I feel totally lost, alone and I don’t know how to concentrate myself. Every assignment I never get 10 points, only 5. It’s very discouraging. It’s the first time I don’t feel confident about myself. Instead of reading my grammar books I discovered a good book: “Fun Home” written by Alison Bechdel http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fun_Home. This story took me a couple of hours to remind my own homosexuality process. She, a dyke, her father, a closet gay and of course, a dysfunctional family as a final product. She mentions several important classic American writers that nobody these days reads.

I think one of the parts I liked the most is when she describe her interest for lesbianism and call it “theoretic homosexuality”, that means, you look into the books and dictionaries the definition of the words homosexual, lesbian, Sappho etc. When I was a high school I remember going to the library and sneaking in the psychology dictionary the word homosexual and suicide. In fact, the word suicide had more priority than other things. Bechdel’s book troubled me more than I though it could do. I’m feeling I’m questioning again my identity but not my homosexuality. My body or the way I see my body, the way I want to be recognized. I must admit I don’t like to be inside a woman’s body, it’s not pleasant at all to me, but with time I got used to it. Got used to it? I think that was the root of the problem. Also, in that book, since she’s a kid, the isolation, despite living in the same house with her mother and specially her father, the main character, she started to develop compulsive behavior like counting drops in the bathtub, or marking overwrite signs in her diary…isolation can be so disturbing and destructive….I’m feeling the same in a different way now. She mentions Marcel Proust, one of French Existentialism wave in literature. Just for the record, this guy at the end became some obsessed with silence that his last days he spent in, what now, we call the psychiatry room, the room with kind of mattress in all 4 walls. He put that in his room in order to write his last novel. Sometimes I become obsessive with noises, I’m very sensitive now, before I wasn’t that bad. But my anxiety is becoming a bit worse. Other thing that happened was….I don’t know how to explain it, Morrissey said “‎”And when I’m lying in my bed, I think about life and I think about death.
And neither one particularly appeals to me” . Yes, I feel exactly the same, I feel I’m in a limbo. I’m not there but I’m. I don’t think, I exist, because of inertia. I feel so empty. How can a person with a job, salary, money in the bank, a car, and the little detail no family or friends at all, can feel that way?  This morning, while I was throwing up, after that, I was almost crawling, petrified on my bed, no number to call, for a moment I thought I should have called the ambulance. I was lost, but the worst, I was completely alone. That was painful.

I’m still having headaches right now. I didn’t have dinner because my stomach is still struggling with lunch. It’s 8.30 pm and there’s still light outside. Tomorrow Monday, I have to start work again. Somehow, I’m glad of that, it keeps me “busy” despite the low level of incoming invoices. Also, last week, my boss announced me I’ll be extended but I don’t know for how long. This situation of being or not being renew is driving me crazy. I moved here and it’s expensive. Losing my job in these conditions would be critical.

How many crutches will I need to survive my new place in Ottawa? 48 hours, a completed weekend…when Friday comes I freak out and I mean it. I become aggressive, intolerant, I don’t want to go out but also I wan to. A total contradiction in me. Something normal I should say. My ex was a clutch, a painful past, but still, a past that belongs to me. Here, I got nothing, I feel I need more but I don’t know how or where to get it.

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