As I lay in my old room in a house that I once spent almost 6 months living in, my mind races once again about things that have happened and things that are yet to happen. Familiar places bring back memories and I’m taken back to this time last year where I was nearing the end of my studies. Coming to the end of one of the most productive years I’ve had. The year in which I up and moved 5 hours away from my family and familiar surroundings. The year my health finally allowed me to do more than just shower before sending me to bed in exhaustion. No more leaving the house for a day and spending the following three days in bed recovering. It was the year I was busy, learning and just being able to live.
Fast forward to now, I’ve spent the past year searching yet failing to find work. I’ve moved back to my family leaving the city and area I grew to love behind. A year of learning I don’t have enough experience to enter into jobs which I guess is a side effect of actually being unable to work for years. It was a year of hoping that things would improve, seeing glimpses of something great but just missing the chance to grab hold of it. A year filled with a little bit of fear that things could suddenly go back to how they were when my health declined. Where once again I’d be confined to my bed after having coffee with a friend.
So here I am, laying in the same room that once slept my productive past self. Just a couple of days ago I was driving up to the nearby city to attend a job interview. Once again the glimmer of hope that things could be improving. The hope that even if this one doesn’t happen, that it is still progress in the right direction. With the hope that once I do enter into work that my health will allow me to continue. Laying here with hope that the past and current struggles will be worth it when things finally work out.