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Out of the Frying Pan

3 min read

This is a story about isolation and loneliness...

Volcano crater

"What's the meaning of life?" I was asked, to which I instantly instinctively answered "spooning". Whether it's your kids, your sweetheart, your pet or some other living thing - such as a pet - the state of cuddling seems to be the one where I feel most content and at peace; most relaxed and comfortable.

I seem to be getting further and further away from that soothing state, and becoming more and more isolated. I seem to be facing a period of isolation, which could feel very prolonged and unpleasant indeed.

Already, I live somewhere where I feel there are far more people who hate me and would like to do me harm, than the handful who like me and would like to see me thrive and be happy. Now, I'm faced with a stark choice: stay and watch my meagre pot of money dwindle to nothing, or go somewhere new temporarily... with temporary being the watchword. If it's temporary, how do I survive without those cuddles; that social network; that sense of belonging?

If I go back to London, I could expect that I could rebuild my social network and it'd be worth investing in new relationships. If I went back to London, I expect I could manage to stay there for as long as I needed and wanted to. I feel like I belong in London.

Now I'm faced with the economic necessity of going somewhere as soon as I can, to get the cash flowing again, but what's it going to cost me? Living out of a suitcase is not pleasant. Staying somewhere temporarily goes against everything I feel I need, to be happy and content. It really could be a case of jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Economic necessity will drive me to do things which are incredibly toxic to my mental health. I feel like I've got a gun to my head. No choice.

What should I do? Rationally, I tell myself that a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, and this bird in my hand is particularly economically valuable. Rationally, I tell myself that the discomfort is only temporary: "it's only 6 months" I say to myself. "It'll be over before you know it" I tell myself. My emotions scream "NOOOOOO" really loudly though. "NOOOO DON'T DO IT" says my heart.

Desperate people will do desperate things. I have a feeling that I'll over-rule my heart, because of economic necessity and my desperation for cold hard cash.