Not living in Europe makes me feel like my life is passing me by. I will meet my true love in Europe, I will make friends in Europe, I will find job satisfaction in Europe. Everything, for me, is in Europe. And I have never lived there. How do I know these things? A connection of the soul. I just read that Berlin is a haven for young people living life, and I’m so jealous, I want to live there. San Francisco is all trashy and dirty, poverty, what does it have? A few museums, an outdated noisy transport system, and a school or two? Jesus. And there are so many beautiful countries to explore in Europe. There is so much more culture there than here in America. Why is my life just, like, that’s it, it’s over. I only have so many years to move and get on with it. I’d better hurry.
I’ll recover psychiatrically, mom will retire, and I’ll work a few years in Pleasanton, CA, for my company, before I move or ask to be relocated. They obviously won’t want to give me up, but maybe it can be an exchange program of sorts. We’ll see what is available.
One thing’s for sure: i don’t live where I live by choice. My family and now my mental illness combined with my family have snatched my freedom. It’s cruel.