I seem to have turned the corner today with the flu. The last five days have been pretty hallucinatory; frightening and disquieting. When you're trying to build new habits (even just plain old new years' resolutions, never mind SP 'triune brain' theory), it's upsetting to have them disrupted in the early stages of your efforts.
Flu is particularly frightening for me, as it has in recent years twice led to hospital ER admissions because of viral effects on my heart; but it just seems to outsiders like the 'man flu' syndrome. Feeling pains in one's chest is pretty normal in flu, but it has a scary significance for someone who has been to the edge of death via these routes. That was when I was really drinking.
The constant being at home, I have hated, and it has put extra pressure on the woman whose flat I have rented a room in for this London trip - which has put extra pressure on me. I'm afraid since I came here she has contributed further to my growing feeling that the majority of vegans who are at all vocal about it (I should say for context that I am a recent vegan myself) seem to be either aggressive or chronically psychologically damaged individuals whose inability to bear the human race has diverted their passions towards animals; not much in common with the sound reasoning of the scientists and doctors in those Netflix documentaries that persuaded me to follow this path, for my health and secondarily as a kind of personal vote against the damaging economics of the food industries as they currently exist.
I have decided to be the quietest vegan possible from now on; short of actually hiding the fact by making myself eat meat or dairy products when eating with non-vegans, I don't intend to say anything more about it. It amazes me that a sect so fascinated by the abstract spirituality of India has so much difficulty understanding the strength of Gandhi's quiet approach to creating change. But perhaps my experience is too limited and subjective; I hope I am wrong.
In any case, it has been hard to exit for a while the social paranoia of Romania, only to land in the social paranoia of someone who seems to have such an extraordinary distrust of the human race. But I suppose if my host had followed the normal path, such as it is, she would not be living in this West London fortress with a room to spare and the company of the largest cat I have ever seen outside of a cartoon (!).
Further disquiet, also from the romantic interludes with the architect in these flu-stricken days, the fact of which presents me with further challenges regarding the facets and choices of the road ahead for me. This week's session with my T will not be nearly so abstract as last week; I definitely have a lot to discuss with her.
I was looking forward to seeing old friends from a London magazine I worked for for years, tonight, but I am not recovered enough to attend, and in fact I think they will reschedule. What a rare job that was; the job where you find a real 'family' at work, and form strong bonds...so much laughter and fun. If only it had been better-paid, I would still be there.
I have very little idea of the road ahead now. I still apply for London jobs, but every time I do it it is a vote against Romania, and whatever I might have with the architect (if anything).
But don't imagine that returning and committing to Romania was off the table, even without this tender new bond, which may prove very fragile. I am lost between worlds with some - but limited - choice. In London I am likely to find a job, but never to own a place; in Bucharest I have a good chance to own a place, but a harder challenge to find work, even though it is such a tech hub, and that is my sphere.
So I thought this morning, as I shopped, that I should stop applying so much to job ads, and start doing what I used to do in Italy - applying speculatively to companies for freelance or permanent work. A lot of effort, but I have often seen those small seeds grow into good opportunities when the time was right. It's a high-effort act of faith; but most importantly, it is an 'act' - it's 'action', which is a problem for a person who is actively working on overcoming their 'freeze', their inability to act.
In any case, this is only the first day I have started to feel better. Today I rest, tomorrow I return outward to the world, finally able to shower again and start moving.
What a power there seems to be in movement; the number of times in my life that I stayed in my room and the phone never stirred...and yet sometimes, when you begin to move physically across the world (or even just down the road), you seem to stir something in the ether...messages come in clusters, as if you had created some strange and unseen wave by your movement. That's pretty mystical stuff, I know, and more likely it is down to how we perceive events (i.e. our minds do not stretch time out when we are occupied, and external events therefore seem to arrive more rapidly).
Well, mystic or perceptual, it seems to be a good thing to be in movement in life, and I have really missed it in these days.
