As my fictitional (I have used it inadvertently three times, so it's real now) journey comes to a close, a real one sort of starts moving. I fly out of Toronto in less than 8 hours now. Shortly enough I will set off to the airport to check baggage.
Strangely my anxiety is at a calm and stable 3 out of 10 or so. I don't know if I am maturing or insane or what. I was nervous about my interview with the Korean Consul yesterday, but that went well. Actually I think it's the only interview I've ever had that went well by my definition of well. That practice interview I had in therapy last March was a terror in comparison. Actually that practice interview was probably the worst interview I've ever had. But it wasn't real, so yay.
I have never flown before. Some people don't like it. I don't like how air travel has obliterated distance. But as a thing to do I am not worried about it. Worst case, I live out the plot of Castaway. So you know. I can do that. Sometimes I've felt a bit like that anyway. Just chillin' out alone, talkin' to my volley ball. Should I kill myself? Naaaw, too messy. I mean, I always did want to build a raft.
Actually, packing itself is more anxiety provoking than the idea of flying. But I even got through that. To some English teachers starting Korean teaching jobs it's probably just another in a string of self assured meanderings through the world. They did Europe, they did... another place, so now they will do Korea. For me it's been a bit of an all or nothing gesture of defiance to the world. Yes, I am introverted, anxiety ridden, socially awkward, shy, miserable most of the time, but damn you world, I am going to do a thing! I can't make a relationship work, but maybe I should stop fretting and take care of some other business first.
I don't know if this do or die gambling perspective is a bit of masculinity. Honestly, I've felt at times that if I didn't succeed and get a job and get a visa and get out of Southern Ontario I would kill myself. Probably before Christmas. So now it seems I won't have to. I don't know if I would have. It was a possibility though. So yeah. Coming of age, bitches. Making mountains out of fucking mole hills and then climbing them! That is what it's about. I hope.