Diary of a Bad Year/Updates no one asked for
These excerpts have been pulled from my personal notes to make a type of record of my semester abroad in the fall of 2019. It follows mostly a chronological flow, though it’s a bit rearranged so the story follows a more emotional linearity. The taboo of isolation, depression, and how it’s actually going was a major theme for me at that time, since there exists a certain pressure to be having the time of your life while on exchange. I’d written these notes during my entire semester for myself, though always with the feeling that someone somewhere was listening. These realities are now a part of the past, but I still appreciate having an outlet to examine them here.
Day three in Brisbane and I had a panic attack on the side of a busy road. I was bound to crack. Abbie Barnhill picked me up off the side of the road in her red Fiat. I burst liquid emotions. I don’t like eternal sunshine.
What time is it in Kingston? Montreal? Northfield? Paris? Chicago?
July goals
Get some friends
Get a job
Survive on literally no money
What are you looking for? Ilies and Zach reminded me today that to travel solo means you’re searching, and that it’s important to think on these things so that you walk into the experiences you’re looking for. A big one: I am running a bit from being lonely. If I am home without the ones I love most, what is there? Leave, better to leave first. “Zen is in the country of the valley, not in the mountains. What you come up there with is what you find”.
Boys in short shorts
Boys in earrings
If you have oil, heat, and water, you can bring stale bread back from the dead.
Stuff I miss: free entry to clubs or bars, chocolate chip cookies, parks with shade and green grass, chilly air (the good kind), human contact, cheap museum tickets, good public transit. Even hot water isn’t free.
I don’t love Brisbane but it's near wonderful things, it's where I am at, holds all my friends, and has beautiful sun.
Dear God I love Paul. How can I be different tomorrow?
I am the Lord your God, I will take you by the hand, I will come to your rescue.
I am a very unhappy, dependent, habitual person.
Type A and crazy these days. Remember that we love a life that is built by choice, saturates us with people, challenges us, and presents us with new things. Are you building that?
Called home and no one answered. I always need some kind of help from 4-6, when Montreal is sleeping. I think I’m selfish, especially on the phone: forgetting what to ask and how to listen and only wanting to complain.
Geeeeeez, it’s been four weeks and I miss home so fucking bad i can’t wait to back to mtl. Brisbane sucks and i have no friends and its july 30. One of the worst months of my life i miss oscar so damn bad and even if i cant see him theres great people in mtl that ill see soon. How the hell did i make friends in mtl i went to bribie island yesterday and tripped through the sand dunes without a shirt and saw wild animals and i think im crazy or depressed cause i went so fucking far into the wilderness just to breath normally. I want to miss paul but he sucks at keeping up and listening genuinely and im disappointed. When i am crying on the street here i cant call him cause he’s not there for that anymore. 3.5 months here is too fucking much i’m tired on this goddamn place and these people and i have no where to vent or cry, no one to hear it, no money for the pool and i think my body will explode with no where to let this out. God keep this place, make it not a waste of my time why do i choose so much fucking resources to get here i am so sad and alone and angry and tired and nothing here is beautiful.
Sitting on the floor brushing my hair for the first day in weeks. I should buy a brush that’s not a fork
Am i sick or did i eat something off the floor
Old ladies are ruthlessly bold in public bathrooms
Why don’t you call me?
Fucking September already. Thank God for the time that flies. To what extent do we have an obligation to share beautiful things with the world? People acknowledge that we share only the best of ourselves yet are hesitant to validate real experience. How long do I have to suffer in this stupid country before they believe me that I don’t like it here?
Birthday luck is real, looks like positive energy where things go your way. Thank you for 20 years of life. Living to 60, 80, 100 feels like a generous gift and wise portion.
Going out is really not that hard as long as you don’t slow down first.
Davies Park Farmers Market. Like tradition. No one chills with me like me.
Almost got arrested and not in the fun way.
Getting regular at sleeping at the university to save myself from heat stroke and a bike ride. Morning at the SEES building feels like I’m at a hotel.
Mont Cootha healed me yesterday.
It’s mid September and I have nothing to complain about. Woman’s room. My bedroom. South Bank. Biology studies library. Toowong food court and cheap sushi, fortitude valley train station. Go find/make home.
He’s got a camper van
Fuck Paul
God bless the cards that played out for me to be here. Tasmania has forests and mountains, it's cloudy and grey and cold and reminds me of the North, of home in Canada, and the Atlantic. Clearest air in the world they say. What’s the obsession with the tropics? With Brisbane beaches? My report on Tasmania will be late, but it’s worth it just for irony at least. I’m a cold weather kid. I’m even writing in my dad’s handwriting.
Times I thought I’d made it: the first sleepover, the first house party, the dam
Lie: You have any reason to feel small. Other people have the ability to make you feel different or other.
Today music just sounds better
There are people who will make goodbyes hard