Wednesday. 2:20am. Fell asleep at 9:45pm but woke up again around 1am. I tried to do some yoga Nidra to go back to sleep but it didn’t work so I made myself some tea instead.

I’m glad I got to be happy on Monday afternoon during my bougie lunch break because yesterday was definitely my worst day so far. I am trying to give myself grace. The pieces of the puzzle are all clicking into place, but it’s not going as fast as the company is demanding. I don’t really know how else to deal with it except to set a boundary and make my own accommodations for my learning style. This is all very new to me, so it’s going to take some time.

I definitely had an anxiety attack at lunch today before I had to go teach for the first time. I did not arrive on time as a result. I straight-up told my teacher that I was late because I had to run home and have an anxiety attack in private before coming back to work. I’m sure I got docked for it because this culture is not one for making any accommodations for anyone ever, but like… it is what it is. I can’t smile and pretend I’m okay when I’m not. I had to do what I had to do to preserve my emotional health in the moment. It’s not like I can just pop a pill and it’s over. Maybe some people have access to that, but I definitely didn’t in South Dakota. For all the talk about how “crazy,” no one ever stepped in to intervene in a meaningful way that would actually address the problem. So, yeah, I’ve had to learn how to emotionally regulate myself and no, I don’t expect anyone to understand or accommodate me. I fully expect people to just roll their eyes and treat me like I’m just being the Entitled Asshole American. Whatever.

Anyway, I got through it thanks to yoga, which I’m pretty sure has literally saved my life. I might just bring my mag with me to work tomorrow and try to find a nice park on my lunch break nearby work where I can just be alone and vibe with nature. Then I don’t have to worry about being late or unprepared.

I also had a stress-induced nightmare about losing my job last night, which absolutely DID NOT help the situation. I dreamt that I overslept, missed work, got fired, and had to go back to Verm. Obviously, this is my worst fear and it has manifested so many times over the last decade that I now just accept it as a thing.

Of course, reality is much different. One, my roommate is super motivated. Her energy motivates me. She is always checking on me, making sure I’m awake in the morning (even though I’m usually up before her), making sure we leave on time, and wanting to get dinner after work. I really appreciate her. Most of the time I think, “Wow, I haven’t even known you a week and you care more about my wellbeing than anyone I left behind in America.” Literally.

My family doesn’t give a shit that I’m here. My grandma basically disowned me before I left and told me she wouldn’t call me or use social media or mail me any packages or send me any money. She literally told me that she “feels sorry for me” when I told her I got a job in Hong Kong. I’m like… great. This is pretty much what I expected from every single one of you, which is why I tell people I don’t have a family anymore. It’s because I don’t. So, fuck ‘em. I’m out here on my own and I’m doing okay.

My nightmare was also absurd because there is no reason for me to ever go back to South Dakota ever again. I don’t live there anymore and I have no connection to it other than the fact that I was trapped out there for 15 years, mostly against my will. Even if I got deported back to the US, I know I could find a couch to crash on in NOVA till I got my shit together. Or I could just go stay with my brother in Chicago. So, it’s not like I’m headed straight to Tent City. I’ll be okay.

After this difficult period, I finally had to do the thing I was dreading, which was actually teach a class. I stumbled a bit in the first class, but once I found my footing, I was okay. Both my trainer and I were on the same page about what I needed to work on, so she was very helpful in that regard. The second class I taught went much, much better. I had already done the hardest part, which is always the first time, so I knew I would be okay in the second. By the end of the day, I had some actual sense of what I was doing.

Up to this point, I’ve been trapped in a room staring at slides, looking through printed documents that are meaningless until you’re actually in the classroom, watching the other teachers, and struggling to put all of the pieces together in spite of the jet lag and brain fog. Of course I had anxiety about it! But then I did it and I realized that I was totally overthinking everything and it’s much easier than I thought. It’s not like I don’t know this stuff, right? I just haven’t done it in awhile.

In the end, it’s just like when I started teaching yoga. I was a mess at first. I was stressed out and disorganized. I lacked confidence. I stumbled through the first month, but once I found my footing, everything started to flow. By the end of the year, I didn’t need to look at my notes or plan the classes anymore. I just had the routine down pat. So that’s how I feel about this job. I’m sure that by the end of the first month, I’ll be just fine.

I have to give a presentation tomorrow in training but like… ugh. I haven’t even looked at it yet because I was too wound up about actually teaching. It’s not hard. I was planning to throw it together after my morning yoga routine so it would be fresh. Plus I couldn’t do it because I hadn’t done it yet, so now that I’ve done it, I can do it. If that makes sense. Probably not.

Welcome to the neurodivergent brain, everyone.

Otherwise, I must take space to give myself credit for setting boundaries. I have never been good with boundaries, but I had a powerful moment today where I set one that was needed. This guy at work who I had lunch with last week now has a fixation with me. He is Indian, so we know about the lack of boundaries there. He was talking LOUDLY about getting wasted in front of our bosses and saying that I was the one planning this party. Right, because, you know, I’ve waited all this time to go to a Brazilian Culture Festival just so I can get blackout drunk in the first five minutes and miss the entire thing. 🙄 That’s not why I’m inviting people to this festival, bro. I don’t want to get shitfaced. I want to dance!A

lso, getting shitfaced is something I no longer have any desire to do for very obvious reasons. I don’t want to do that here. I don’t want that lifestyle. I want to enjoy a glass of fancy French wine with a bougie AF meal as a treat to myself, not spend every Saturday night at the bar getting fucked up. I’m old, I’m tired, my body literally cannot handle it anymore, so no. No. Straight-up no. I wrote him and my bosses an email addressing his comments and saying, “I’m here to be professional and grow my career. Failure is not an option for me. I am not getting dragged down by the party culture again. Period.”

Now I’m just going to work on putting distance between us. We all watched what happened live the last 20 times I left men steamroll right over my boundaries because they couldn’t accept No for an answer. This time I’m not fawning. This time, I’m saying NO. When I say NO, I mean NO! Period. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200, just go straight to jail. The End.

So at least I can feel good about that. Shoutout to that random Jordanian guy I went out with in Dubai. Who knew that conversation would have such an effect on me? God knows what happened to him. He straight-up disappeared. Either way, thanks for being the angel I needed at that moment because I really, really, really needed to learn how to set boundaries with these guys. Not even sure he’s actually real, to be honest with you. For all I know, he was a desert spirit impersonating a human being for a night of fun. Probably. That would explain a lot, to be honest, lol. I think I’ll just write him that way in the future. What should his name be? Desert Rose, like the Sting song? I don’t know why that just popped into my head but now I’m laughing my ass off. Alright, alright, alright. Welcome to my Island of Lost Guys, Mr. Desert Rose.

I never came up with a name for my ex-boyfriend. I’m having a lot of complex thoughts and feelings about the situation. I’m not obsessing over him because I don’t have time, but I do feel sad about it. I feel silly because I believed we were going to get married and have a family. Now I have to let it go. It’s hard. It’s not exactly easy to just give him a funny nickname and abandon him on the Island. It is what it is.

I will say that it’s pretty entertaining to listen to other Indian people comment on this guy. He’s from Haryana, which apparently has some fun stereotypes attached to it. Mostly that the men are all dumb jocks and beefcakes who only care about looking good, smelling nice, and working out at the gym. They’re like, “Why would you want to be with a guy like THAT?” I mean… well… when you put it that way… lololol… sounds like my type. I don’t really like men who try to do all of my thinking for me, lol. But I guess I didn’t care to be on the polar opposite end of the spectrum where I was doing all the thinking for both of us.

But I man, yeah, like, you really think I didn’t clock him for his dedication to the GTL Lifestyle right away? Come on. Even I was disappointed in myself when I couldn’t just bang him. He was hot!!!! I was dating old men and gross losers before that. So what if I wanted my side slab of beef? It is what it is.

Feeling better now that I’ve written. Sometimes I just have to dump all the thoughts out of my head so I can recalibrate and focus. I feel much lighter now that I’ve vomited all over the page. Going to try to go back to sleep now, or at least do Yoga Nidra. I have no idea what I would do without Yoga Nidra. it is my true saving grace.

Wish me luck tomorrow. Hopefully it goes better than today.

Just a reminded to myself to take a deep breath. Everything is going to be okay. Just breathe. 🧘🏻‍♀️