The angst has abated

Things are pretty much back to normal again after my recent battle with homesickness.

A few things came together over the last few days to snap me back into shape.

First off, I took concrete steps to research coming home. So many negatives overwhelmed me - the hassle, the cost, the bitter realisation all my qualifications are out of date, the time and effort required to re-skill. I guess the skanger-ridden, expensive hole reminder didn’t hurt either (thanks, H., you got my back).

It all made my simple little existence here seem much better by comparison. It also drove home to me that, no matter how much I miss my family and friends, I want to be able to return to Ireland saying, ‘I am…’ or ‘I have…’ Not, ‘I worked towards…’ or ‘I’m almost…’

The second thing that brought me some clarity was going shopping. When I buy clothes, I tend to idealise how great these new things are going to make me look / act / feel. Then, I come home, put them on, and it’s always a disappointment. Nothing ever looks quite how I imagined it. I never capture in reality the buzz the things gave me when they were just an idea.

So, too, with moving home. I tend to build up some big life change as the solution to all my problems. ‘If I just go home, I’ll never feel lonely / bored / dissatisfied again.’ ‘Going home will stop me living as if my life is on pause.’ ‘One more clean slate and I’ll get everything right this time. No more screw-ups!

Of course, it’s all rubbish. Even if, in one fell swoop, I could solve all the problems I have banging around in my head, I’d still just get home and make up a whole bunch of new ones. That’s life, right!

I have to remember that my life is a journey and I must focus on the course and not the destination. (Please feel free to stick your fingers down your throats at this point. I’m one Hallmark sentiment away from drowning in the gushing waters of my profound self-analysis and discovery.)

But really, more than anything else, what helped get me back on track is the good people I have all over the world who care about me.

Many people listened to me whine, gave me sound counsel and advice and helped take my drama-queen ass back off the ledge.

Life is too short for pointless navel gazing. Rather than fussing and moaning or fantasising and idealising, I’m going to use my thinking time productively.

Some of the best advice I got was to really think about what makes me happy and make a career out of that. Being a smart aleck, I was like, ‘Well, I need to spend the rest of my life drinking coffee and watching TV all day.’

‘Ah yes,’ came the wise reply, ‘but could you do that eight hours a day every day for a month?’

Good point - if my recent TV marathons have taught me nothing else, it’s that too much of a good thing can lead to headaches, tired eyes and bedsores.

So, as an exercise, I’m going to try and make a list of times when I have been really happy, and times I have been really sad and see what directions these observations might lead me in.

Maybe I’ll let you know how I’m doing later on.