Here we are. Monday, again.

Still nothing to show for my efforts but some blog posts. I like to think it’s okay because I’m getting funnier, in spite of my occasional brush with darkness out here in SEA.

I applied for another crop of jobs last week. Nothing. It’s all the same recycled job postings that were there in January. So I am basically applying to be rejected by the same companies all over again. Fun.

I wish I knew how to do what I do all day and make money from it. All of my problems would be solved. No more pretending I like people. No more “networking.” No more masking. No more exhaustion that actively prevents me from writing and creating art. Just this, all day every day, for the rest of my life. I would be fine with that.

I thought about throwing in a random application for a Masters program at HKU. They would need to pay for literally everything though because I have no money for anything. Not school fees, not an apartment, nothing. I’m in the same position no matter where I move my piece on the board. Sucks.

I was feeling more motivated about it on Saturday morning. Now I don’t feel any motivation to do anything at all. I thought my depression would go away if I moved to the opposite side of the world, but it hasn’t gone anywhere. Some days I just get so lonely and overwhelmed here. I feel so lost. I don’t know who I am or what I want. I am just at the whim on the universe. I am not taking an active role in my own life at all. Honestly, I don’t think I even know how.

In the meantime, I am trying to make peace with things as they are. As I said the other day, I finally made peace with Bloody Mary’s. As we always knew, I was right and all of them were wrong. South Dakota people just enjoy being cruel for the sake of being cruel. They see someone out there doing something different and their first instinct is to burn the witch at the stake. That has literally nothing to do with me or my book. That state is just all bad vibes, all the time. It’s not about me.

I got rid of Andrew months ago, so that’s not an issue anymore. I’ve replaced him with true stories of ridiculous dates I’ve been out on with real men. Made peace with the deaths of Mad Dog, my dad, my aunt, my uncle, and my grandmother.

One thing I cannot make peace with is my living family. There is no peace to be made. It’s a source of constant struggle for me. I want to make peace with it, but I really struggle to accept how fucked up the situation is. It doesn’t help that my mom, grandmother, sisters and aunts basically stonewall me whenever I try to communicate. They really think they can just pretend nothing bad ever happened. They literally refuse to take any kind of accountability for anything. It is IMPOSSIBLE to communicate ANYTHING to them, at all. They will always DARVO me.

They still act like me moving abroad is the gravest crime ever to be committed on earth, which again, makes absolutely zero sense because my aunt literally lived here in Hong Kong for a year. You would think she would be happy for me or asking for pictures or checking in. But she doesn’t. It’s just… radio fucking silence from all of them. It’s so weird.

I swear it feels like leaving a cult, but I don’t know what cult it is or understand how it operates. I can only say that my cousins on my mom’s side are all also in the same situation where their parents are extremely controlling and keep them contained close to home in spite of the fact that they are all fully-grown adults. It’s weird. That whole family is weird. It’s only now that I am on the other side of the world, watching other people post pictures of their families visiting them, that I realize… that shit ain’t right.

I never speak to my dad’s side anymore. After he died, my aunt went full mask off and basically said, “You’re not my family anymore. I don’t want to spend time around you or invite you to things. I don’t want to deal with you at all.” Okay, crazy. I’m sure my Irish grandmother would love to see you treating your own blood relatives like that. I bet she’s really proud.

So yeah, I am definitely having a lot of trouble moving past the family stuff. As I’ve mentioned previously, I am the Family Scapegoat, which means everyone treats me like a punching bag they can take out all their negative emotions on. This is why nobody is happy for me and why they refuse to acknowledge my writing career. They don’t want me to succeed. They want me to fail so they can continue beating up on me. I refuse to accept that kind of treatment anymore, so they are vilifying me for walking away from it and setting up boundaries. It’s all very textbook for people with undiagnosed personality disorders.

I think it’s really hard knowing that they feel this way and act this way. I think I did something really brave by accepting a job on the other side of the world, getting on a plane to come here, and then sticking it out for the rest of the year when the job didn’t work out. I think it’s amazing that I’ve visited 12 countries, studied yoga in India and Bali, and lived in Bangkok and Hong Kong. I never, ever thought in a million years my life would look like this. This is everything I’ve ever dreamed of. And my family, the people who are supposed to be supportive and provide unconditional love, all hate me for it.

Why?

I have so much weighing on my mind right now. My date with the Russian was merely a distraction from all of this. Men are always just a distraction from all of this. They come and they go and, if we are lucky, they provide some entertainment along the way. That’s all we can hope for in this life. There’s no point in expecting anything more from any of them. Just get the story and leave. Don’t get attached. Don’t get hung up. Just take the story and leave.

I know I have this fantasy that if I go to Ireland to research my family history that I will find a new family that loves me and accepts me for who I am. I think this is very unrealistic. I should not go because I expect to find something or receive something in return. I should go because I want to spend my days unraveling old scrolls in the library just for the sake of learning and education. I’m setting myself up to fail by going there “for the people.” I should go for me, to find me, to learn to love me and understand who I am outside of my overly-controlling family.

Anyway, it’s not a good time right now. In addition to the housing crisis, now there is a fuel crisis affecting the entire country. All weekend my feed was dominated by footage of the protests across Ireland. I just felt like… maybe it’s not my time yet. Maybe I have more to learn out here in SEA before I go there.

I don’t know. I am so lost right now. I can’t pick a road to travel down. Some days I just want to go back to India to study more yoga. Some days I want to hop a flight to Vietnam or Cambodia. Some days I want to go to Ireland. Some days I want to dump off all my stuff at my brother’s apartment and just take a backpack all around Africa. Some days I just want to get married and have a nice apartment/condo/house/whatever to decorate. Some days I want to go to graduate school. I really am, as my AI-generated google search results say, “All Over The Place.”

Yeah, that’s exactly how I feel today: All Over the Place.