KÁRMÁN LINE

I have had the most tiring week. I am tired of tiring weeks, and months, and days, and years. This morning, I presented my Indigenous Gender project with my groupmate who lives in Vancouver. Her name is Alessia. She was quarantined for two weeks because the mother of the kid she nannies had Covid. I had a great time chatting with her for hours this past week, doing our project and getting to know each other and our families. I have a screenshot of Alessia being really shocked and laughing when I told her I was 30. She thought I was 18. I woke up at 5.15am this morning to present the project at 5.30am, I think our professor and classmates were impressed and it was a job well done. I am tired of online classes and will be so, so glad when we can all be rid of them. I have three more weeks of school. I have an exam, and three essays to go. 

This past week, I have just realised how much I’d yet to be aware of in myself. I’m scared Lucas hates me. When we ended things, he said he’d look forward to one day when we were friends again, but I’m really sad thinking of if he changes his mind and doesn’t care about me anymore. Sometimes, I think I would be a prime candidate for cancer. There has been so much cortisol in my system for such long periods in my life. My mother had cancer when she was about forty years old. I am so tired of the stress and the unhappiness.

I look forward to being in Canada, and rooting myself in nature, and forest bathing, and putting away my phone to be present, wherever I am. After going through this entire week, I have realised that I have a different notion of love. I think I have had enough of fiery passionate flame-like love. I don’t want and I don’t need the heart-pumping love of racing through a desert wasteland. I don’t want a two-week whirlwind winter romance in the greatest city in the world. I just want the comfort and safety of loving a man who loves me back. I want the warmth and pacifying feeling I get when I am self-soothing and place my hand over my heart, to calm myself when I am overwhelmed by my emotions in public.

In life, I’ve always had the mindset of wanting to experience everything at least once. I want to take all the drugs. I want to try polyamory. I think life is so short and time-limited, I want to do all the things! Then I realise, my mental health is not intact. I am not an average privileged white man who has gone through life relatively unscathed. I take everything seriously, I go through life fiercely and furiously, and when things end, as things do, I am the one who crashes and burns. I don’t want that to happen anymore. I have made enough mistakes in life, I’ve seen my parents make enough mistakes in theirs, and I think it’s time. I’m ready to start building. I forgive myself for everything I’ve done to date, I forgive myself for not knowing better, for hurting other people from a place of hurt.

I’ve been having a sharp, stabbing pain in my heel, and it’s either a splinter I can’t find, remnants of when I slipped and injured myself on the overhead bridge last week, or a case of plantar fasciitis. I’ve never had that last one before, and I suppose my Nike sneakers that I wear to work are really worn out now, so I need to get new shoes, which means a higher expenditure this month. Sigh. I need that 100K to heal me and my life.