It’s probably been 2 years since I am in this fog, this depression, this heartbroken self, wallowing in my pity.

In recent weeks, probably sparked by the urgency of finding a new room, running out of money, and trying to survive, I feel the need, no, the urge to create again. It’s the worst of times to have this feeling, to suddenly want to do everything at the same time, but not having enough time to contribute to any project that is still in the pipeline. Finishing my movie, creating new music, writing a new feature, all of that has to go on the back burner, because of the room search, the job search, and the search for options to survive past September. How to put food on the table, how to pay rent, how to pay for all the other little things in life that make life worth living. Those latter things are already stripped down to the barest minimum, but still weigh heavy. What should I sell first?

I have help, sort of. Friends who don’t want to see me starve, family who doesn’t want to see me on the street. But the government is no help in any way since I am back. I’ve been away for so long, that I have no right to any help. Thank you Austria, you are a peach, as always. Why am I even here in this pretentious country. I live without health insurance since January 2020, I live without income since January 2018. I had a lot of savings, but all of that is gone. I still own half a house, not worth much, but it would be enough to get me through until my pension will be paid out December 2022. It would be enough to have a room, where I could live without rent, but there are members of my family who make this impossible. If I would be a shitty person I would kick them out of the house, but I am not a shitty person, I am a filial daughter, let them live rent free, I rather suffer than make other people suffer. Even when they hurt me. It’s like one of those Chinese period dramas. Though I really don’t want to die because of others stupidness, greed and happiness.

In the last 2 weeks I had ideas how to get through this difficult time, and I will figure something out, I will find a suitable room, I will find a job in the end, I will finish my open projects and start new ones. I may even start my own company.

There is light at the end of my dark tunnel in my head. It’s not steady, but there is a glimmer now and then, and there must be an exit up ahead. Wish me luck as I stumble forward, bruised, sometimes crying, but slowly healing.