There are a few reasons I haven’t been on recently. Mainly because I have spent the last year with about as much creative juice flowing as a salty slug, but also because I feel guilty. The world is a shit show at the moment, but somehow I have managed to end up living in Australia during a global pandemic and actually being able to live a reasonably normal life. A life free from lockdown, zoom parties, living room birthdays, baking banana bread and pretending to not be as fragile as a teeny, tiny china doll and for that I’m extremely grateful, but also feel rather shitty for having a bloody lovely time.
I would say that every day people remind me how lucky I am and I know. I absolutely know how lucky I am. I find it mental that in 10 years time when we are all reminiscing on these crazy times (and hopefully Corona will be about as common as the plague), my experience is going to be a world away from my counterparts in the UK. However I am still allowed to feel, to be sad that our friends couldn’t join us for Christmas because of an “outbreak” in Sydney. Out here our friends are our family. Everyone’s feelings are valid and I can’t switch off the grumpiness I feel about wearing a mask in 40 degree heat, but it doesn’t mean I’m not eternally grateful I’m not an NHS worker PPE’d up to the eyeballs.
At the moment I feel stuck, a weird sensation of being in limbo. I never expected to be in Australia for 2 years, however I also never imagined that I would fall in love with the place hard and fast and also be able to envision myself living here, which I did (I do). Australia has opened my eyes to a wonderful lifestyle, a work, life balance and some bloody lovely weather and how small Europe and the UK actually is. However, being here means I can’t be at home, where people make me happy, even if they annoy me again after 5 minutes.
2021 started rather over the top. I was offered opportunities to stay in Australia by 2 different employers and that’s not really what you need when you are homesick, the world has gone to shit, you love Australia. It’s enough to make you feel like your head may explode if you have to make any sort of decision in January other than diet coke or pepsi max. It all feels rather overwhelming (understatement of the year) and when in that situation the best thing to do is to bury your head in the sand right? If Covid wasn’t a thing HAHAHHAHA, I’d snap someone’s hand off if they offered me to stay in Australia longer, but Covid is a thing, a thing that affects everything.
After my first Christmas in Australia in 2019, I vowed I would do whatever I could to go home for Chrissy 2020 and that obviously didn’t happen. I know it wouldn’t have been a normal Christmas if I was in the UK, but I so desperately craved to go home and get drunk with all the family, play games and eat enough food to sustain a small child for a week. Selfishly I felt comfort that it wouldn’t be normal for people, but it made it easier for me to swallow that bitter pill that I couldn’t be there.
As time goes on and I feel more and more ready to go home I know that feeling is caused by knowing I can’t just pop back home for a visit. Weddings would be off the cards, everything would be stuck in this limbo where I feel like I am being pulled in one direction, the direction away from where I want to be. All of this because I can’t have a nice little 3 week holiday back home.
So I’m just here to ride the feeling out, see what the bloody hell happens in the UK over the next 3-6 months because I want to give my grandad a kiss.