So far this semester, I've had this awful feeling because I know that it's my last semester in Korea and I can't imagine going back to Canada. "You don't know what you've got till it's gone." True. But what did I really have in Canada? Canada is one of the best countries in the world for a lot of things, but it's still not the best. And coming to Korea, I've realised that in many ways it's better than Canada. So going back is a of a step down. I know Korea is not perfect. OMG!!! There are so many things I wish were different here. But this is not my country and I'm not about to sit here and tell Koreans how to live their lives. Also, most the things that I would like to see change here are not a big enough for me to be like "This place is not liveable."
I won't get into my list of reasons for putting Korea above Canada. I feel like I've already done enough of that. But there is one thing that I haven't been able to get in either country and it seriously worries me. Support.
I'm not talking financial support. I got plenty of that and I am forever grateful for it. But I'm talking emotional support. My whole life I've felt alone and I have not been able to trust anyone wholly. I've never been able to tell anyone my secrets. I just want to talk. Talk about real things. I feel like there's enough inside of me to fill up a whole other person. I feel so trapped and depressed.
"You're the only one who can make you happy." Shut the fuck up. How you gonna tell that to someone who's suffering from depression? That is not always possible. It's not always an option. I wouldn't even know where to begin. I can't just wake up and say, "Be better. Be happy." And then, boom, it happens. wtf I hate this.
Travelling is lonely, and I know how to be on my own. But that can't be me all the time. "Forever alone" cannot be an option. Everybody needs somebody. No one can do it all on by them self. And yet here I am. Alone. But I can't blame travelling for my unhappiness and loneliness because that was already there. In a house full of seven. In a house full of four. In a house full of eleven. It doesn't matter. It's always been there. So I worry about myself. I worry that I'll never be better. There are so many things about myself that are impossible to fix cause mother nature fucked up. But the rest of it never seems to get better.
I'm so done with this post. I don't even know if it makes any sense.