They Were All Yesterdays

"If you fell down yesterday, get up today." --H.G. Wells

I had this dream last night.

Things are a little rough at the moment. I found out yesterday that moving to Sydney might be a lot harder than I expected, and there's a very real chance that I'll end up sleeping on the streets if I do go. I could end up in crisis housing but that'll only last three months, and I'm not sure how long it's going to take me to get a place through priority public housing (where I tell them I'm homeless or at risk of homelessness).

So, can I do it or not? Is it worth the risk of sleeping on the streets?

I can't transition in Mackay; not safely. It would be easier to get a house in Brisbane but it'd take me longer and I don't know anybody down there. I'd be a stranger in a strange city. At least I have a few friends in Sydney, so I wouldn't be completely alone. I also know the city pretty well because I grew up there, so getting around wouldn't be nearly so difficult.

There was a song in this dream. I wish I could play guitar so I could write it down, and it's still stuck in my head. The song was about how looking back deprives us of a future, and the chorus was "they were all yesterdays". There was a lot more going on than just the song; at one point I tried on my sister's foundation but the tone was too light and I looked like a mime. Also, I think Einar Selvik was in it at some point (handsome devil).

I don't know how to interpret the dream. Maybe it has no interpretation, but it certainly felt significant. Am I looking to the past as in wanting to return to Sydney, or is my yesterday here in Mackay? Do I keep coming back to Mackay because I'm trying to return to the past, or is it vice versa? I have no idea, but I think the way forwards is for me to go back to Sydney, regardless of the risks and how long it takes.

My cousin sent me a thoughtful reply to my initial blog post last night. A lot of my family don't know all the details of the things I've been through over the years, and it was indescribable to hear somebody on my father's side note that I had been to hell and back several times. I'm so used to people on that side of the family just assuming I'm a deadshit. He said, "you have persevered through some horrible moments."

 Did I persevere, or did I just not die? I certainly don't feel strong. Instead of marching through these moments, it feels like I was dragged through them by my shoestrings. But I'm still here, aren't I? And I'm still trying to carve a better life for myself. I guess that makes me strong.

I was crying cooking breakfast today, thinking you're strong enough to do this. Let's pretend for a moment that I didn't break down while frying an egg. Come hell or high water, I think the only way for me to grow in life is to go back to Sydney. There's nothing here for me in Mackay and no way for me to improve my life.

 I think I've made my decision.

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