Follow your heart

Many years ago someone once said to me that everything costs something. It may cost a dollar amount or your time. It may cost you emotional turmoil. It may cost you brain power. Everything costs something.

Since I’ve been in Bethel I’ve been working my ass off and making money. The money has been really good and for that I am forever thankful for. Unfortunately, there has been a price to pay for that.

I’m not at home and therein lies the cost. I’ve been away for so long and I miss everything I have worked so hard to achieve. In fact, being here, I don’t get to appreciate and enjoy my life at home. I work my ass off so I can come home and relax in the castle that I’ve built for myself in the past five years. I have everything I have ever wanted at home with the exception of one thing. I really only work so I can enjoy that.

Now I’ve been teeter tottering with the idea of either staying here or coming back to work because the pay has been exceptional and my plans to go to England in November got pushed back to January (I hope). What is staying here going to cost me though? My sanity perhaps? I don’t like it here at all. I hate having days off because I spend the whole day in my apartment doing nothing for the most part. I’ve started to watch TV and I’ve knitted or crocheted a lot because otherwise I’d go insane doing nothing.

At home, things are different. I have a multitude of things to do to keep me busy. Things I love to do and look forward to doing are there all around me at home. My cats and piggies are there to greet me in the morning. I am constantly reminded of why I do what I do. My home is filled with love. Living out of a suitcase, I don’t have those luxuries. Also, the things here are not my things so in some ways I feel like a stranger.

I have roommates who are nice and pleasant, but I still have to share this space. I guess I’ve gotten used to being alone and I miss that. I miss having a whole huge house to myself. I miss being able to come and go as I please. I miss having a car to go places in. I miss being able to listen to music or watch tv in the living room. The list of things I miss is endless.

So do I stay or do I go?

I talked to my father at great length this morning about my life. Every so often when I get like this I always end up talking to him about it. Why my father? Well, he’s logical and can see through the fog that sometimes muddles my brain and heart. He won’t mince words with me and will tell me exactly what he thinks, good or bad whether I like it or not. I guess that’s why I always go to him instead of my mother, the artist. She’ll sugar coat just about anything, even a turd because she hates to hurt anyone.

His advice was “follow your heart”. He asked about the pay and then we crunched numbers. He did them in his head and then told me that it just wasn’t worth it unless they were going to double my pay. I concurred in between my sobs which made me feel better. He also told me about some opportunities that he wanted to discuss with me when I get home. Since I’m not going to England now, I might take him up on his offer and who knows what could happen.

Deep down I’ve known that I didn’t want to stay here past my contract. I’ve been struggling with the costs of being here versus making money. I’ve wanted to leave since the first month I got here, but I persevered because I signed a contract and didn’t want to violate it. My agency reminded me of that. Still, I’ve not been happy. I’m beyond lonely here. I am out of contact with everyone I love and care about. I miss my house and my pets. I miss the simplest stuff like my car and cell phone. I don’t like being stuck at work or my apartment day after day. I guess I have gotten depressed since coming here and I don’t like it one bit. Money or happiness. Everytime I got to choose the happiness. The money always comes in time.

I’ll be home in two weeks and looking forward to getting back to my life.

I guess I’ll be going now with my heart leading the way.