It's already the end of October; this time last year I was going to Merricks and answering phone calls from prospective housemates, feeling lonely and alone and optimistic about at least having things to do next year. Going back to work at Education, going to Vietnam, having things planned.
I have coffee with Andrew most days at work and am so much closer to him than I ever thought I would be. It's been nearly a year with D. I never considered that I'd want to travel overseas with a partner, but we're going to Japan in December. I started law school, saw a psych, started taking antidepressants, and somehow got to the point where going back to uni and going back to part time work doesn't seem like a disaster. I think I'm finally coming to terms with myself and allowing myself to take a step back from the big picture and needing to have everything under control, and allowing myself to relax and take things day by day.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
The weeks are going by so fast this year, particularly since starting uni five weeks ago. I look forward to Fridays, and to studying, and four day work weeks are so much more manageable for folk like me. It feels less like this job defines my life, as much as gives me something to do, to allow me to appreciate uni. I’m still uncertain as to whether I want to stay here next year, but it’s mainly because I don’t want to end up working in hospitality again. Uni definitely feels different this time around though, much less directionless and decision-prolonging, and far more
Last night D and I booked all of our accommodation for the first couple of weeks of our Japan trip, which is relieving, but also limiting. Being away for Christmas and New Year means that we don’t have the luxury of coming and staying as we please, or finding special places to stay and things to do. I suppose that’s for next time. I was looking forward to not only being able to do this, but doing it this on this trip. In practice, I’m not as adventurous on my own as I feel like I am in my head. As nice as it is to be away without any particular plans or itinerary, being alone and away and without an itinerary has never really led to me exploring unexplored nooks and crannies, as much as hitching up my guard and shuffling around, feeling vulnerable. Being away with D, I’m sure we’ll do far more and I’ll spend far less energy being anxious. Perhaps.
I have been reading popular non-fiction books about development and aid, and feel like I’m better equipped to fully understand and digest the various blogs on the subject. My books are underlined and alarm bells go off in my head of their own accord now, when reading certain claims or propositions. I wonder when my scepticism about research and particular ways of thinking became so developed, though, and how much working in the public service has contributed to it. Apart from everything else, it has forced me to draft, and to be far more critical and purposeful about the way I write. I’m a far more critical reader of published works than I used to be, which adds another layer to the curse of being a grammar nazi.
Last night D and I booked all of our accommodation for the first couple of weeks of our Japan trip, which is relieving, but also limiting. Being away for Christmas and New Year means that we don’t have the luxury of coming and staying as we please, or finding special places to stay and things to do. I suppose that’s for next time. I was looking forward to not only being able to do this, but doing it this on this trip. In practice, I’m not as adventurous on my own as I feel like I am in my head. As nice as it is to be away without any particular plans or itinerary, being alone and away and without an itinerary has never really led to me exploring unexplored nooks and crannies, as much as hitching up my guard and shuffling around, feeling vulnerable. Being away with D, I’m sure we’ll do far more and I’ll spend far less energy being anxious. Perhaps.
I have been reading popular non-fiction books about development and aid, and feel like I’m better equipped to fully understand and digest the various blogs on the subject. My books are underlined and alarm bells go off in my head of their own accord now, when reading certain claims or propositions. I wonder when my scepticism about research and particular ways of thinking became so developed, though, and how much working in the public service has contributed to it. Apart from everything else, it has forced me to draft, and to be far more critical and purposeful about the way I write. I’m a far more critical reader of published works than I used to be, which adds another layer to the curse of being a grammar nazi.
Monday, May 3, 2010
On Storm
I finally watched M.I.A.'s 'Born Free' video clip tonight, having already had a moment of disbelief in response to somebody else's reaction to a description of it. US 'soldier' figures are depicted breaking into houses, beating people up, rounding up redheads and driving them into the desert where they are forced to run away, and shot down by the truck driving alongside them. A boy is shot in the head at point blank range, another young man's body explodes as he runs into a grenade.
They round up redheads in a kind of genocide. How horrible! Well.. yes. It's horrible, as genocide tends to be. It's confronting, but it's tame, and I'm glad that it exists and has been the centre of such controversy. I do wonder, though, how people are still able to take it at face value and consider it a statement against redheads.
'Redheads? That's horrible! That's.. that's so awful! How ridiculous.'
'.. I think it's making a broader political statement than that.'
.
Having unintentionally missed all but the last day of the German Film Festival, I went with D to see Storm on what was a deliciously dreary Sunday afternoon, and crossed to the wrong side of the river for the pleasure. Apart from the handful of girls accompanied by parents/grandparents, I was the probably the youngest there by oh, 20-30 years, and felt it accutely. South Yarra makes me feel so uncomfortable in my own skin. There's a palpable difference that side of town, which I can't properly articulate, but which is uncomfortable enough to keep me away as much as possible.
The movie highlighted the usual disconcerting themes of justice vs. the law, which are particularly salient in cases of such gravity and abhorrence. What is fair, right and just, and what is the legal outcome? What are the options when political motivations and potential consequences have to be considered in choosing how and whether to prosecute? What should be done when properly prosecuting a case will lead to political upheaval and potentially reignite newly dormant conflict? What if justice in one case leads to catastrophe elsewhere
Perhaps the deal swindling in international criminal tribunals is more shocking due to the acts it deals with, or more visible for the same reason. A witness's story uncovers a rape camp that had been established at a hotel in Srpsca during the Yugoslav war, but the court is unwilling to hear this testimony due to time constraints and the witness having been found midway through the defendant's hearing. The defence and prosecution counsel do a deal, as I imagine often happens; a reduced sentence in exchange for some tesimony or other.
It's a brilliant film that has been considered by an ICTY prosecution lawyer to be an accurate representation of the process that goes on in The Hague at the ICTY, (as mentioned in the pre-screening talk). While obviously dramatised, the film is suspenseful and challenging without being dramatic or remotely sensationalist. It's difficult to watch, as, I would argue, the best films are.
They round up redheads in a kind of genocide. How horrible! Well.. yes. It's horrible, as genocide tends to be. It's confronting, but it's tame, and I'm glad that it exists and has been the centre of such controversy. I do wonder, though, how people are still able to take it at face value and consider it a statement against redheads.
'Redheads? That's horrible! That's.. that's so awful! How ridiculous.'
'.. I think it's making a broader political statement than that.'
.
Having unintentionally missed all but the last day of the German Film Festival, I went with D to see Storm on what was a deliciously dreary Sunday afternoon, and crossed to the wrong side of the river for the pleasure. Apart from the handful of girls accompanied by parents/grandparents, I was the probably the youngest there by oh, 20-30 years, and felt it accutely. South Yarra makes me feel so uncomfortable in my own skin. There's a palpable difference that side of town, which I can't properly articulate, but which is uncomfortable enough to keep me away as much as possible.
The movie highlighted the usual disconcerting themes of justice vs. the law, which are particularly salient in cases of such gravity and abhorrence. What is fair, right and just, and what is the legal outcome? What are the options when political motivations and potential consequences have to be considered in choosing how and whether to prosecute? What should be done when properly prosecuting a case will lead to political upheaval and potentially reignite newly dormant conflict? What if justice in one case leads to catastrophe elsewhere
Perhaps the deal swindling in international criminal tribunals is more shocking due to the acts it deals with, or more visible for the same reason. A witness's story uncovers a rape camp that had been established at a hotel in Srpsca during the Yugoslav war, but the court is unwilling to hear this testimony due to time constraints and the witness having been found midway through the defendant's hearing. The defence and prosecution counsel do a deal, as I imagine often happens; a reduced sentence in exchange for some tesimony or other.
It's a brilliant film that has been considered by an ICTY prosecution lawyer to be an accurate representation of the process that goes on in The Hague at the ICTY, (as mentioned in the pre-screening talk). While obviously dramatised, the film is suspenseful and challenging without being dramatic or remotely sensationalist. It's difficult to watch, as, I would argue, the best films are.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
When being incapacitated seems like a more attractive option than having to go to work, and when the thought of work hangs like a sceptre at the back of your mind, it’s probably time to change something.
I have been trying to rationalise why I am so reluctant to leave, and how I got to the point where my sense of self and worth is so tied up with my job description. Particularly since it’s not something that I’m particularly proud of, that I enjoy, or that I would even respect in others. Why leaving feels like an admission of failure, and how I can justify staying, when I loathe it, and would encourage anybody else in this situation to leave.
Last week I did an intensive uni subject, and felt like a whole person, studying something. A person learning about something interesting and important, who had ideas, experiences, something to contribute, and things to be excited about. And I wonder where that changed, in the last few years. Why I went from feeling like somebody intelligent and interested, to this shell of a person, so completely dissatisfied and lost. I balance on this emotional knife edge, between this rage and complete despair, constantly ready to scream or cry. I slump against the toilet cubicle, staring at the corner of the door and wall, willing myself to pull myself together enough to last for the rest of the day. Walking out of the building feeling a physical release, which is too quickly tempered by the thought of going back the next day.
What am I scared of?
What I want, I think, is to go back to uni and study law full time. It’s just a jump, and it feels in some ways like a jump backwards. Is going back to uni an admission that I can’t hack work? I know that I can deal with far more and far worse than work. But this work is not me; and I am scared of what ‘people’ will think. I don’t know who these ‘people’ are, except that they’re nameless and faceless and really, don’t matter.
I need to work out what matters, because I am lost in this mess of wanting to be fulfilled and validated by work. It’s not what I want, or who I want to be, but it’s the way I have ordered my life and kept on track until this point. Part of me is scared of how I will cope, giving up a nice salary, and the rest of me is disgusted that this is even a factor. I don’t need to be able to spend thoughtlessly like I have been. I don’t even want to.
I read this post by Lisa Dempster tonight, and felt so heartened. This is exactly the way I have been feeling, and I need so desperately to escape it. I’d like to make volunteering a more central part of my life, and work part time and do something that I believe in. The public service has been a hideous shock to me. I can’t keep turning up to this job which is so draining and depressing, and continue to live in this twilight of ‘but.. this is what you wanted, you stupid girl’.
It’s time to move on.
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