Circles

    Nobody really talks about the difficulties of giving up one life for another. The decision to do so is hard enough, but I'm talking the minor details that everything glosses over. The things that are never mentioned in the books and movies.

    The paperwork to take a Leave of Absence. The dealing with shame and excitement, jealousy, envy, pride and disappointment of giving up what you have - from yourself and from others. Dealing with pensions and benefits (of which I am lucky to have, even if they wrongly cancelled my benefits on me and I had to raise hell to get them properly reinstated), dealing with doctors (especially when you don't actually have one and have to go through phone calls and walk-ins), working out a sublet with your landlord (not to mention finding someone safe to take over your place, which I haven't yet), selling your car (never done that before), all the banking changes (new credit cards, moving money, budgeting, etc), insurance (the timing of cancelling car and home, and organizing travel)... The list goes on.

    I plan on leaving this September. And I actually leave next week for another vacation that I'd planned with friends before I decided to upend my entire life. I'm looking forward to it, really. We're going to Toronto to see the sights and eat, then over to Montreal to stay in Old Town and do fancy things and go see some Just For Laughs shows. Then we'll fly partway back to Calgary, and take the Rocky Mountaineer train from Banff to Vancouver. Then we'll go back home to the Island. It'll be a great learning experience.

    I've gone to Australia on my own, back in 2017. But that wasn't really traveling by myself. I flew over to Vancouver and got on the plane there, suffered the 14 hour direct flight with my sinus infection (I'm just recovering from another one, I'm cursed when it comes to vacations), and walked out into arrivals to meet my Aunt, who took me back to her place. I then spent the next couple weeks with family. I didn't do anything without them. This time I'm doing everything on my own. And it's terrifying.

    I'm so lucky to be able to afford all this, I know that. To have benefits and a pension and wonderful friends and family and the life I have - even though one of the main reasons I'm leaving is because the job I love can no longer pay my bills. I don't buy meat anymore. My protein comes form eggs and lentils, beans and chickpeas. And protein bars from Costco. Gotta figure out my membership on that, too, as it will come up for renewal while I'm away. One more thing to add to the list. All the clothes I buy are clearance. I eat out every few weeks. I keep my heat to 15 degrees to keep the cost down. I carpooled to work, getting there early and staying late (unpaid), just to save gas money. The world is so unsettled these days, in the new Covid life, and housing and inflation are impossible to keep up with. I have savings (not enough, I know), and I have the need to figure out who I am.

    But before all that happens, just a couple days after I get home from my first trip and before my benefits run out, I've got to drive a couple hours south to get immunizations, and also an hour north to get all my gynecological checkups done. Nothing is available in my little town on the coast. Poor, poor me. Dentists and fillings, nurses and bloodwork and clinics and vaccines, gynos and pap smears - none of those are ever mentioned on-screen before Julia Roberts or Diane Lane head off to Europe to start fresh.

    I actually watched Eat, Pray, Love recently. The main character divorces and laments giving up all her money - but she still goes to Italy and Bali and stays for months. She gets an apartment in Italy, too. How? The logistics of that are baffling. I know this was before the whole Schengen Visa thing, but did that character have to work out the timing of her visiting and visas and such? And how could she afford everything? I know, hand-wavy book/movie magic. If only real life were so easy.

    I mean, I know it was much cheaper to do all this twenty years ago. Everything was cheaper. But they don't mention all the comparison shopping of travel insurance, the research into taking medications with you and getting a year's worth from the pharmacy at once, what they changed all their addresses and phone numbers to, agonizing over what type of luggage to bring, and figuring out what you need to sell of your stuff, donate, or trash.

    Or do I rent out my place furnished? So many questions. Especially when you're anxiety-ridden and have a scarcity mindset. My cupboard is always full of six extra bottles of lotion and shampoo, extra bars of soap, toilet paper (though that's expected now), I've got four tubes of toothpaste in the cupboard, an extra tub of laundry detergent, about six pounds of spaghetti, and about twenty pairs of shoes. I even buy bras in bulk when I find one I like on sale.

    The hardest part of all of this is untangling my mind. Re-wiring it. Telling myself it's okay. That things will work out if I don't bring a full year's worth of allergy pills with me. Or lactose intolerance pills. They exist in Europe, and are probably cheaper. Pharmacies exist there. That I can buy clothes and shoes there. That I can figure out how to sell my car - it's probably not that complicated. That looking at my Jade plant in the window and thinking I need to re-train it and re-wire the branches before I give it to my parents isn't something I need to do right now. 

    My mom keeps reminding me that I don't even have a date in mind to leave yet. I can't, because I haven't rented my place. I haven't sold my car. I haven't packed up any of my stuff. I have this chain of events that need to happen, and I can't do one before the other. In my own mind, anyway.

    She reminds me that I need to calm the f*ck down and remember I'm going on a FUN vacation with friends next week, and I'm already ruining it by thinking about all the stuff I have to do when I get back. That I need to calm down and realize that things work out. That it's not as complicated as I think it is. That the world won't end if I leave loose ends before I go. 

    I need to sit with myself for a while and appreciate what I have here, before I go and try to find what I need out there. I need to stop thinking, and just be. 

    At least they do talk about that in the movies.