Expat

One…Two…Three…Next…

posted by saltybug.com 14/01/2016 8 Comments

I’m painting my nails blue. It’s that nice grey blue hue that I am just so drawn to. I’m sitting in bed, PJ’s on, listening to Perez Hilton’s podcast on the Golden Globes, and I carefully paint each nail in three strokes. One, two, three, next. Do you do that? Do you have a set way of getting the gloss on? If there is a ridge where it is too thick it upsets me and I have to quickly paint over to even it out. Then I feel stressed the balance in my life, in that moment is gone. Corrupted.

I chose blue. I saw it today and just wanted it. I was drawn to it, feeling a desire to be crazy and have blue nails.
 
I do my own nails now, no point paying for it. I scratch at least two before I leave the salon, and then the stuff they use has trashed my once gorgeous, strong and fabulous nails. I spend my life doing dishes, bathing children, cleaning snot off noses. Now they are weak, they break every day; they are kept so short I can no longer untie knotted shoelaces with ease.
I chose blue. I kind of feel that way at the moment. Blue.
I was thinking about what I could write, something informative, something useful, even funny but then our driver I-Bug resigned. 
 
I-Bug  is going to work with his sister. I can’t blame him really but it has made me realise just how dependent on him we are. Dependent on I-Bug making our lives here just that little bit better. I feel a knot in my chest. Fear.
 
But it isn’t the unfathomable fall

That makes me giddy, makes my stomach lurch,
It’s that the ledge itself invents the leap.
(From Fear of Happiness by Alicia Elsbeth Stallings)

I-Bug put his friend forward for the job, and we met with him and he can have the job. For a while anyway. Just until we find someone suitable if he doesn’t work out. We already know he will not be as awesome as I-Bug. I could easily do more driving, I just don’t want to do SB’s work drop off and pickups, and I don’t want to drive us down to Laguna, along those narrow confusing streets with no street signs. I just don’t like the thought of doing more driving, leaving those hours empty, just space taken up with traffic and my brain hurting even more from the concentration. I don’t like the idea that my new weekly routine, fresh in this New Year is now affected because I can’t trust this new intruder to protect my children and take them to school without me by their side. How long will it take for me to feel ok to release the control again? To get back to the life I had finally started living?
 
This feels like just another aspect to the expat life that one doesn’t give much credence to. Until it happens. I always thought I was keeping a healthy distance, trying not to form attachments in this temporary situation. Yet when you are frantically kicking your feet under that water to stay afloat, those attachments become like the hand that is there to lift you safely out of the rip. It just happens.
So I thought, it’s okay I will turn to my friends, my new friends for support and I found myself stopping short because last week I experienced another side to how life here could be. Someone who isn’t a ‘friend’, just someone I have needed to interact with for some purpose, has said things about me to other people I know. Neither truthful nor helpful things. These lies are put out there for what? To discredit me? Why? This revelation unsettled me. The foundation that was gradually becoming stronger suddenly has stress fractures and it feels like it may fall.
 
When I went home at Christmas and saw my friends I felt that my security blanket had been re-wrapped around me again. Nice and tight it gave me the courage to come back here and continue. That blanket is unravelling now.
 
My mantra for tough times is ‘Everything with Grace’ and that is how I am trying to play it out. I believe in kindness, empathy and friendship. I believe that women in particular should support one another, stop trying to tear each other apart. Let’s build our sisterhood, create amazingness together. Yet…here we are.

So for now, I sit in bed, in my PJ’s, listening to some fluffy entertainment news about dresses that look like bumble bees and I paint my nails. One, two, three. Next. One, two, three…Next…
 

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8 Comments

Mackenzie Glanville 14/01/2016 at 4:35 pm

Oh I hate that you are blue, maybe paint your nails a vibrant pink or coral and it may brighten your day! Sometimes that image comes up for me too when I post on Facebook (the mummy & us one) so strange and annoying, but anyway, feel better gorgeous xx

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Salty Bug 14/01/2016 at 4:55 pm

Thanks Mac, I will be okay, I always bounce back. I have a bright pink glitter polish that is due to come out soon. Enjoy your holiday. Xx

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Penelope 14/01/2016 at 4:58 pm

This too shall pass. As all things do. Today's troubles will pass as will tomorrow's and eventually they will all blend in together. You may remember you were blue but more likely you won't. If you remember, you will know that you got through this or you may even wonder why you felt so blue. You will also find out that blue nail polish chips and scratches and doesn't last.

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Salty Bug 14/01/2016 at 5:22 pm

Very true, this coat will be ready to wipe off in a day or so. Thanks Penelope.

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Sheryl Rose 16/01/2016 at 2:48 am

Change, out of your comfort zone, why me, when one door opens another closes, wait, reverse that. Feel better now lol Happy nail painting:)

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Salty Bug 16/01/2016 at 12:52 pm

Thanks Sheryl, you always make me smile.

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Marie Loerzel 29/01/2016 at 4:27 am

What is is about ex-pat life that is so condusive to getting your heart trampled? I think it's the need to make fast friends or you won't have any at all. It's hard, but hang in there!

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Salty Bug 30/01/2016 at 6:39 am

Thanks Marie, it is a funny world. I'm feeling a lot better now.

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