After Decades of Questionable Decisions — How to Make the Right One?
You ever feel like you’re ready to make a move — to change and break from the rut you’ve been holed up in — only to realize you’re actually very much, firmly stuck?
I moved to Germany for a plethora of reasons, but it had never been the plan. What it was, was a quick solution to an undesirable situation. And since I knew someone giving up an apartment, it seemed like the “right — serendipitous” decision at the time.
It wasn’t a wrong decision per se, but it certainly hasn’t been an easy road to navigate. The truth is, had I been anywhere else during Covid, I don’t think I would have survived. I truly believe I would have come out the other side far more broken and worn down than I did — because, at least here, I had the space and room to grow creatively, which has been my one saving grace.
Living in my sun-soaked apartment has been a blessing and curse these past three years (I say that a lot about everything as of late). It allowed me the time to be quiet and focus on my passions, but it was also incredibly isolating. This space has seen me wallow and weighed down — fighting my deepest and darkest stretch of depression in many, many years.
Leaping Before I Look
Normally in times like this, when I am ready to go — I go. There is no waiting or thinking things through. Bags are packed, and I am waving goodbye from the plane without a second thought. For much of my life, these decisions have at least made for great stories over a wine or two, but they have also led to grossly questionable chapters that saw me crying uncontrollably everywhere I went.
I spent my thirty-fifth birthday uncontrollably crying, unable to take a breath as the darkness consumed me. When I finally came up for air the next day, I looked around and knew deep in my bones it was time to go. Months have passed, and I still know without a doubt that leaving is the best option, yet here I am.
My stay here is complete, but for the first time ever, I have done the unthinkable — I paused.
Looking Before I Leap
Knowing what I do (all the hindsight I have gained), it would be silly to up and leave when I am at such a pivotal stage in my life. Whatsmore, my finances are still far from where they once were, and each month is an absolute struggle to get through.
So, I am patiently and calmly looking at all of my options.
My hands itch to reach for my luggage but tucked away, they remain. I am looking to plant myself. Wherever I go next does not need to be my forever home, but it does need to be my home for a good long while. The options are limited, and with how the world economy is going, they are also frustratingly taxing — and I mean that in all the ways.
All my bad decisions have always been due to one great flaw of mine.
I can never seem to look ahead, and I most certainly don’t think about my future or where my decisions might lead. Nope, not I! It is only until I reach my destination that I finally look around and go, “Well, shit!” But then, of course, I am there and stuck at least for a little bit, so I make do because that is all I can do.
But I am tired now. Oh, so very tired. I don’t want to make the same mistake for the millionth time. I want this decision to be a good one — the “right” one.
And if that means being uncomfortable for a little bit longer, so be it.
Should I Stay or Should I Go?
There’s a lot of pressure to fall into society’s standards. I can feel my internal clock ticking, and no matter how many people tell me I’m still “young,” I feel like life is quietly slipping away — if I allow it to continue, it may be impossible to ever find my footing again.
Digging your way out of poverty is next to impossible at times. I struggled finding and keeping work throughout the pandemic, and when I finally went the freelance route and began making a paltry amount of money, I was immediately sent notices from the tax office. The German Tax Office is like a hound dog, constantly nipping at my feet. My first accountant screwed me over, and I have been paying for her mistake ever since — a far longer story for another time. The point is that sometimes you can see the light, but it’s still miles and miles away.
So, I’m stuck. Not completely and maybe not forever, but the desire to leave for once is being stomped out by the greater desire to create a life where each day is not an upward battle.
But I am still counting down the days until I go.
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