It is officially official: I suck at being away from home. The last time I even went away anywhere this long was when my dad was dying but then wasn’t dying but I was already booked for two weeks so I went for two weeks. Normally I can’t even go home to my parents place for very long something will piss me off or I will miss Adam and change my ticket. Vacation like sun spots I have done max two weeks. One week is barely enough and two weeks is just about too much but is doable.
Even though my ultimate dream is to live in the opening scene from Love Actually and have someone sweep me off my feet and make-out with Adam for five minutes with extreme head turning and exaggerated everything while the poor bastards with no one to pick them up stare and dream that they too can have what I have. But in reality I am a raging bitch when I get off a plane in YVR and my destination is home. I used to despise being that lonely soul with no one to pick me up but now I just want off the fucking plane and I want my luggage NOW and I want in a cab and I don’t want to talk to you I want my HOME and my CAT and my stuff and the way my apartment smells and I want to be alone.
When I was just seventeen years old based on my looks I got a job at a hotel in butt fuck no where half way between Golden and Revelstoke. I didn’t even last a week. I quit and then they fired me which I know makes about as much sense reading that as it did when it was happening. And the guy that runs the place is a sadistic ass who threw me out and many others over the years and made us sit across the street outside the gas station waiting for the bus that came once a day.
My parents were really mad at me and I was a failure and it was put on top of the ‘Corinna quits everything’ pile. I have always resented that pile and it makes it easier for me to quit things. To me it would be different if as a kid I were able to have tried things that I asked to try like singing and dancing the stuff I showed an interest in. Big deal I quit and failed at a bunch of shit I never wanted to do in the first place. The areas I excelled in naturally I was not nurtured, or believed in or coached in on any sort of scale that was positive. I was instead considered a problem child.
I don’t like being away from home to the point that I have issues just going over to friends places, I tie it in with my social anxiety and do my best to have people over to my place. I don’t even like being bare foot in other people’s places. It feels icky to me. I did not spend the night at Adam’s place even one time before we moved in together. These are my issues I don’t think any of my friends or acquaintances places that I have been to are unclean.
With all that said, I am cutting my trip short and will be home this week. I am pretty pissed off at myself to be honest because I was doing okay, I was facing the challenge of being away so long, pushing myself, stepping outside my comfort zone but when I started to crack I handled it wrong. I’m getting really tired of this trait of mine. Even if I just throw a mini flip out it is still a flip out and it isn’t like I don’t know the proper ways to communicate. And I’m staying with my very best friend, she has been there for me through EVERYTHING and I mean EVERYTHING, she knows about ALL of my awkward and bizarre corks. So when I started to get depressed and not just homesick depressed but DEPRESSED and I just wanted to sleep and pick fights with Adam, I should have said I wanted to go home but I let it fester and got grumpy. Turns out even Rhonda was surprised I agreed to come for so long. But I wanted to help my friend out and test myself and I suck at saying no. I’m disappointed I didn’t change my ticket days ago because it would have saved me some grumpy angst filled days. Thankfully I am dealing with someone who accepts me.
