Writer Charlotte Ward charts her travels and reveals all about the highs and lows of her new life Down Under. As well as her regular blog on iVillage.co.uk, you can follow Charlotte on Twitter and also catch her at www.charlotteward.net
Homesick
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When I booked my ticket to Australia back in June I didn’t envisage regretting it for one moment. Bypassing the English winter was a no-brainer and to be honest I was desperate to exorcise the procrastination I felt was engulfing me in London.
Sitting on the plane with a whole new world ahead of me I felt energised and empowered. I arrived in Australia on such a high.
A fully paid up member of the ‘Yes’ club, for the first month I found myself agreeing to go out with whoever, whenever, breezing from beach to bar, from party to person. I collected new friends like shoes and added them on Facebook with flourish. I felt invincible.
But then at some point homesickness began to creep in.
I don’t know when the feeling began, but all of a sudden it was there. My sleep was broken and when one morning I awoke to an email saying my sister Sofie has fallen off her bike and dislocated her shoulder. I felt guilty and upset. Why on earth had I put myself on the other side of the world? I should be near my family, in the same time zone, ready to rush to them in their time of need.
A quick chat on skype confirmed that Sofie was just fine but my emotive reaction to her accident was the moment the carefree Sydney persona I’d worked so hard to create began to unravel.
Over the next week a few other things started to go wrong. I had some work trouble, received more bad news via email and got the blues over an affair of the heart. Working freelance meant a lot of time in the day to myself. My body was crying out for a break from the booze but the thought of evenings in on my own terrified me. I didn’t want to be home alone with the crippling loneliness.
So I continued to go out, trying in vain to put on a brave face while all the while worrying about burdening my new friendship groups with my stresses and strains.
The melting point came at 5am on a Sunday morning when I woke up feeling like I couldn’t breathe, a sick ache in my stomach. The sense of isolation was suffocating. Here I was 10600 miles away from my home, family and friends and it terrified me that I was unable to extract myself from the situation.
I skyped my best friend in the UK and cried down the line. She calmed me down and I went back to sleep. But when I awoke a few hours later the feeling was still there. Keen not to alienate my new acquaintances I attempted to dilute the misery, imparting my disquiet via texts, messenger and phone calls but trying not to push too much emotion on to one particular person.
I walked around the flat telling myself to ‘man up’ but as the panic stubbornly refused to shift I finally bit the bullet texting Craig, a 30-something Aussie guy I’d met just twice before.
'I feel so lonely,' I admitted.
'I’ll pick you up in 15 minutes,' he texted immediately. 'Option 1: cheap and cheerful pizza and drinks in Woolahra, option 2: Japanese takeaway and classic cinema (code for home video as long as you don’t chose Love Actually) or option 3: super duper long walk followed by a hearty salad and drink at The Sheaf.'
'Option 2 please,' I typed back, inbetween the sobs.
True to his word Craig soon arrived on my doorstep embracing me in a much needed bear hug.
'Thank you for being so nice,' I said, my eyes watering.
'No problem,' he said. 'Just don’t tell ANYONE.'
So off we headed to Edgcliffe where Craig plied me with sushi and wine and I fell asleep on the sofa before the end of Sherlock Holmes. But not before a little pep-talk.
'You’ve got to stop seeing the distance as a major issue,' he instructed. 'If you really want to leave you can get on a plane tonight and be home in 24 hours. There is nothing stopping you.'
But the fact is I don’t want to go home and succumb to the first wobble. I want to get to the other side stronger and feeling pleased that I didn’t bail the minute things got a little tough.
In the last few weeks the loneliness has started to disperse a little.
A five minute walk from where I am living is a stunning cemetery (Waverley) where the grave stones face out to sea with wild yellow flowers swaying gently in the wind. It is an incredibly beautiful and peaceful place and a nice haven to sit and reflect. In doing so I’ve remembered why I am here and have started to look at my list of goals once more. So last weekend I bypassed the booze and booked myself onto a last minute reiki course – something I’ve wanted to do for years and now I have.
I started writing this blog sitting in the sunshine by Bronte beach and planning a New Year road trip up the east coast of Queensland.
Breathing in the sea air I was instantly reminded of just how lucky I am to be here.
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