After the euphoria of moving to a new place subsides, the void is instantly filled with nostalgia and most people experience withdrawal symptoms as a coping mechanism because a lot of things have not gone as smooth as they imagined. The emotional turmoil is full on and after a few months of handling the situation as best as possible, some people decide to return to their previous destination while for others who can’t due to financial or job commitments spend the rest of their time in a mindless state of depression.
I applied to any and every job I was remotely skilled to do because I was fast running out of options and I needed to start saving up my fees for the next semester. Getting a job this time around was not to boost my ego, confidence or assuage my dignity, it was a primal necessity for survival in the coming months.
The first few days in my new house was bizarre. Everyone was juggling school and work which meant I was usually by myself in the house till late at night when they got back. While this should have been comforting, it wasn’t. The silence was a constant reminder of my shortcomings and how so far out of control my life had gone.
I had no job and I was about to be homeless because I couldn’t afford to pay my rent any more. Nothing was going according to plan and I was now in full panic mode. My landlady had said she had some family members coming over and we had to vacate the house. The problem was to move into a new house would cost so much more than living in the same place paying rent weekly.
Needless to say, my legs cramped up almost half way through the second half of the journey. I remember twisting and turning uncomfortably in my seat, trying to find a comfortable enough position to nap. There was a guy seated next to me who kindly offered me his shoulder to rest my head.