Why I put myself in these situations, I’ll never know. I thought a trip abroad with a good week and a few days on my own post travel with my husband and sister would be just what I needed… to relax a bit… stop thinking about work… stop thinking about how much of a failure I am and just be present in the moment.
Instead, this trip just reminds me how much of a failure I am. I haven’t died yet, so there’s that, but I feel so incredibly alone here. I know I have just 5 more days before I return home and they’ll go by and the trip will be over, but I want to figure out how to enjoy this. It’s proved challenging indeed. I struggled with my travel plans today… making it to an island on time in the morning but then not being able to ride the electric bike safely so instead taking a bus to an overpriced art exhibit that I didn’t know how to appreciate properly and getting over-heated on a long walk to my hostel that I stupidly booked without a clear plan for how to get to it (it WAS walkable, but not so much with my backpack in 90 degree heat) — I did it, but was feeling lightheaded the last 10 minutes of the walk and thought I might pass out and no one would find me.
I made it to the hostel… then went for a walk around the area which is quite remote and there was nothing to do. I saw a fairly nice view, then had a panic attack because there was an earthquake in the Philippines and I worried it would trigger a tsunami (spoiler alert: it didn’t.) I walked back to the hostel a different route and saw some more of the island but couldn’t enjoy it because I was worried I was getting myself lost. I wasn’t. I got back to the hostel… back to my room with six beds for five other woman/girls that’s completely empty right now (which I don’t mind that much) and into my bed where earlier I saw a centipede crawling next to me that may be venomous.
But the trip itself isn’t really that bad… it’s nice to see new places… to experience new things… and so far nothing major has gone wrong except my credit card being stolen and having to put a stop on some very strange expenses. What’s worse is knowing that no matter how long I put getting back to the real world, it’s still there, waiting for me, laughing at me, ready to slam into me like a wall of bricks. My job prospects are not looking that great… I’m rather unemployable right now and I don’t know where to start. I have no references from former employers, I have no experience outside of experience in what I’m not actually good at, and I’m getting myself all sorts of depressed reading job ad after job ad that I know I can’t even get an interview for — the jobs I have gotten offers for in the past were all off somehow… they were clearly roles that no one else half way decent wanted… the roles themselves were impossible to succeed in, which is why I’m the perfect person to take them and try really hard to do amazing things which works for a while until I burn out and can’t maintain the level of work and then fail. Because I don’t know how to manage or delegate or organize or do anything that is required of anyone in a job. Even if I can get it together and do these things, who will say I can in a reference call?
I probably shouldn’t think about the job thing until October… with the exception of applying for some “stretch” jobs and hope that they’ll call me knowing they won’t. I can take three months to not worry about this… before worrying about it a lot. It’s hard to not think about it, though, knowing that I’m screwed. I mean, I can live off savings for a while (esp if I stop spending at my current “travel and splurge as if I’m getting a job in October” rate) but… this can’t last forever. I feel so ridiculously depressed and hopeless… I wonder why I even bother trying at this point.