WARNING!! This post may be explicit to some.
Hello beautiful humans! I hope everyone enjoyed the abnormally warm March weather we just had. Today we will be finishing my journey in the UK. I will speak about accomplishments with my mental health and self-growth đ and with that, letâs hit it!
I had been at the preschool for quite some time now and was loving it, I felt content. After having worked there for a few months, I was able to leave the pub and just work one job! Before leaving the pub, however, I took a 10-hour bus ride to Glasgow, Scottland to visit a friend and former co-worker from the pub who had decided to move back home, weâll call him Callum. He and I met my first week at the pub and became fast friends! He was hilarious and sweet and had the same appreciation for smoking marijuana as I did. Callum had decided to move back home to Glasgow just before Christmas arrived and though we kept in touch we missed hanging out. As February was coming to an end, he invited me to visit for a few days so I booked some time off, hopped a bus, and headed for Scottland. While there, Callum took me to a few sites like the Glasgow Cathedral and George Square and we walked until our legs no longer wanted to stand. We indulged in a traditional Scottish breakfast where, I, of course, compared the difference to a traditional English breakfast, and by night we were dressed to the nines and out on the town for some dancing. He took me to a nightclub called The Garage which boasted a fake but life-size car coming out of the entrance. We danced and drank all night and arrived back at his place in the early hours of the morning. A couple of days later, when my short vacation came to an end, we hugged before I boarded the bus but promised to keep in touch, which we did until he made the courageous decision to move to India and the messages became few and far between.
On the bus ride home, I met a group of four friends heading to London and the ride quickly turned into a party. As I went to the washroom towards the back of the bus, the group stopped me for a chat and invited me to sit with them. I grabbed my bag and joined them for the party. The seats at the back were set around a circular table and boasted a PlayStation and a selection of alcohol. Once I settled in, they whipped me up a cocktail and the ride felt much quicker than the 10 hours it was. When we stopped for a 15-minute break to stretch our legs and smoke a cigarette, we ended up taking photos lying on the pavement of the parking lot. It was definitely a bus ride to remember. When we arrived in London we bid our goodbyes and added one another on the infamous Facebook. I decided to add this little bit in todayâs post as I donât think this could happen on a coach ride in Canada.
As spring arrived I began contemplating my next move. My visa was set to expire in October but by this point, I was becoming âover itâ when it came to England. I thought about where I wanted to go as I was not yet ready to go back home. I thought about what I would do for work, depending on where I chose to go and did I want to go back to hospitality. I knew it was unlikely I would secure a teaching job before moving so I, again, needed to think up a plan and do some research. I had always wanted to go to Vietnam but I knew I would need to put in a lot more work and research than I had for the UK, which would most likely take longer than my visa allowed. Just as I was Googling different places, my dad Facetimed and I started discussing some of my ideas. âWhy donât you come here?â he asked. My dad lived in in a small, lakeside town in the Okanogan area of BC, and as I hadnât been to BC before it piqued my interest and I told him I would let him know soon. Well, if I was hesitant then, I sure wasnât after what happened next.
It was the end of April and on a Friday night, me, my roommate, and some friends I had worked with at the pub, went out to our local âwatering holeâ which was just down the street called âthe Queenâs Headâ. We all sat around a booth having some beer when the bartender rang the bell that stated last call. My friend, whom weâll call, Bianka, asked who wanted another round but my roommate suggested we go back to our place as we had booze there and could continue to party. Bianka and our other friend, who weâll call Owen, agreed, and we all paid our tabs and headed out. While back at my place, the drinks were flowing, and the music was set to some rock channel, after another drink I was ready for bed. I said goodnight to everyone and went to my room, changed into my pjâs, and went to bed and as soon as my head hit the pillow I fell asleep. Iâm not sure how much time had passed but I was awoken to voices that sounded so close they could have been in bed, right next to me. My eyes slowly and groggily opened but all that registered was a blonde head of hair which I knew belonged to Bianka. Just as I was starting to drift off again the voices grew louder which put me on high alert. As I shifted to sit up, it became clear who was in my room but not only that, it also became clear that my pj shorts were halfway down my thighs. Just then, my bedroom door slammed shut and Bianka was frantically asking me if I was ok. âWhat the fuck is going on and why are my pj shorts pulled down?â I asked. Bianka stared at me as if contemplating what to say next. When she opened her mouth, it all just came out; âI was on my way to the toilet and as I passed your room I saw your roommate, on your bed, laying over top of you. I got close and realized what he was trying to do and thatâs when I came in.â I was horrified! She explained as she walked in, he was in the midst of taking my pj pants down. I didnât know whether to say I was lucky she was there because, this whole situation, was I lucky? I became angry but it quickly turned to worry, what if I hadnât woken up? What if she hadnât been there? Bianka assured me she wouldnât leave my side for the rest of the evening and we could figure out where I could go in the morning but I knew where I was going to go.
After that evening I was surprised that my anxiety and panic remained at bay. Youâd think a situation such as this would trigger it. Perhaps it had been the strategies and exercises Iâd been practicing so frequently. As I mentioned in the last post, I began practicing deep breathing more, CBT, and reading more about grounding exercises. Or maybe, it was how I just packed up and left without a word to my former roommate. All I knew at this point was that I felt stronger and knew the repetitiveness I began since that moment on the train, was helping. I would, however, like to say this; some may have said that this whole situation was my fault, that I had too much to drink, that I was under the influence. Maybe I did drink too much and maybe I was under the influence but does that constitute my roommateâs or anyoneâs right to try and violate me? No, it doesnât. Too often I hear stories of someone waking up to the same situation or worse but getting told they drank too much and they should be careful. How fucked up is that? It is not your fault!!! It does not matter if you drank too much or none at all, that doesnât give anyone the right to do anything to you, sexually or otherwise and I want to make sure that is heard by everyone! So often we hear comments of a passed drunk person waking up to an individual trying to take off their clothes only for the drunk person to be blamed based on their consumption. That does not matter! To anyone who has felt that way, that their intoxication caused someone to try and touch them, disrobe them, it is not your fault. A drunk person asleep does not mean consent. If you cannot tell the difference, please seek immediate and urgent care!
I was able to stay with my friends until I sorted my travel plans and got a one-way flight booked for May 3rd to Vancouver. For the last few days in England my friends took me to Thrope Park (an amusement park, love hard core rides), danced at Ministry of Sound and had a going away party thrown by my friends. The morning I arrived at Gatwick for a 10-hour flight, I actually felt sad. As it turned out, everything the last 2 years brought came swopping in. I felt nostalgic but at the same time proud of who I had become and what I learned. I had become resilient, even though I didnât think I had. I grew in more ways than one đ I felt this move had helped me accomplish something I didnât even know I needed.
I arrived in BC tired and unsure what I was about to do next (Spoiler alert-I meet my husband here) but I had come a long way, especially in terms of my anxiety and panic and it helped me in so many ways, especially when I think things are hopeless, I remember these times and know, no matter how much harder the work may be, I can do it.
Until next time, be kind to yourself xo