... Or Not...

Shortly after I wrote my last post, an unfortunate incident happened that shook me a bit. It was the first 'big bad thing' that happened on the trip. I wasn't going to write about it because time once again has gotten away with me and now it seems distant and irrelevent but I know that really it is a big part of my journey, so I really should document it properly.

I arrived home one day to find that my dad had called the home phone of the house I was staying at and wanted me to call him back. Although he had said everything was fine, I immediately panicked. The message also said to check my emails first, and so I did.

In my inbox was a forwarded message via my dad from the people I had stayed with in Clapham - and had hoped to house-sit for in July. The email stated, quite bluntly, that they were withdrawing their invitation as I had left my key in their door when I had returned to pick up some mail the previous day, and as the area is prone to burglaries (though nothing was taken this time) they didn't want to risk me staying alone in their house.

Fair enough.

Except, I was so sure that I hadn't, I was sure that I left the key inside the house. I was sure of this because when I went to deadlock the door from the outside, I couldn't find the key anywhere - including the lock. Slightly concerned, but figuring no harm's done as the key was safely in the house, I checked several times that the door was firmly shut before leaving.

I'm sure the owners of the house have gotten it right - the key was in the door and I take all responsibilty for it being there, as I'm sure however it happened was my fault, but I have been plagued there since by the longing to know how it happened. Because I checked. (Maybe it fell on the floor? But then how did it get into the lock? How could I possibly have missed it when I checked the door was closed so many times? Why didn't I check more carefully? Why can't I just go back in time and find out? Or put it right?)

I was, as one can imagine, notably distressed. Not so much because I couldn't stay there any more (although that was a slight concern) but rather I was disappointed in myself as I had always prided myself on being a consciencious and responsible house-guest. Just so you know, I have never done anything like that before, and am now certainly going to ensure not to do anything like it again. I was also confronted by their tone in the email, confused about how it happened (how could I have gotten it so wrong?), and most of all I was in shock that it had happened at all. I was instilled with an anxious terror, one I had not felt since the stress of the HSC, a feeling I had almost (perhaps too quickly) forgotten. It just came on so suddenly, and the happy bubble burst, and the gap year honeymoon period was officially over.

At the end of the email though, they requested for me to return the phone that they had kindly lent me. Although that is a perfectly reasonable request, one I would have fulfilled anyway, the way they had tucked it in after all they had said struck me as a sort of 'AND I WANT MY PINK SHIRT BACK' response which through my shock of the situation actually made me giggle just a little. (Damn you, Mean Girls, this is serious!)

Anyway, I apologised sincerely and profusely, and claimed all responsibility, although I did mention my confusion as to how it happened. Unfortunately, they made no reply, and gave no recognition of my apology and regret. Which sort of hurt. But then again, the situation they found themselves in must have been so distressing, so I can completely understand their reaction. Dad wrote to me in an email 'I think we can say the matter is now closed.' And that was it. And although writing this feels a bit like dredging it up, it's really just to document the development in my travels, and what has come out of such a circumstance.

Perhaps the situation does not seem particularly significant when read, but experiencing it - and experiencing it virtually alone on the other side of the world - was quite significant indeed. After that, and until recently, I was quite sensitive. Whenever I made a small mistake, a misjudgment, an un-thought-out decision, it amplified itself, as if they all amalgamated into one huge 'Oh-my-god-but-actually-Tamara-could-you-get-any-stupider?!' saga. And I have these moments where I am just disappointed, in myself I guess. Like I feel I forget why I'm here or even how I define myself. (Why am I here? Do I really have reasons apart from the obvious ones?) A small 'two-events-on-one-night-which-should-I-attend-oh-well-I'll-just-go-to-that-one-oops-wrong-one.' mistake turns into some long personal philosophical debate. Luckily, these occasions have been few and far between because, really, they're quite exhausting.

Now, I'm not sure I really believe that everything happens for a reason. However, I do believe that in everything there is something to be learnt. Here is what I have learnt:

1) Six months is a long time. In that time there are bound to be times of distress, embarrassment, fear, anger, sadness, longing, anxiety and boredom. This is a good thing; it is how one grows - and they are all things I need to learn how to deal with better. I will have bad experiences and that is okay. As Sondheim says 'But if life were only moments, then you'd never know you had one.'

2) Speaking of moments - take hold of them tightly. Let everything else go.

3) Take pictures. Of everything. Because you may not go back, even if you think you will.

4) Stop being so sensitive. Suck it up and get over it.

5) No more dwelling.

I think I'll stop now before I start sounding like a self-help book.

But do not worry, dear readers, because these not-so-pleasant feelings seem to be far behind me (for the moment anyway). I have been too busy to write about them when they were fresh felt, but thought they were worth writing anyway. This blog is difficult because so much is going on all the time, that by the time I am able to finally write something up, a million other things have happened and I can never catch up. I fear for the rest of my trip I will be backlogging, desperately trying to pull out the best bits - Tamara's Gap Year's Latest and Greatest Hits - to share while they're still somewhat fresh. It'll be worth it, I think.

Unbelievably, my time in London is very almost over, as I leave for Edinburgh on Monday. (I got that volunteer position I mentioned in my first post - I am ridiculously excited to start.) I'm going to try my best to write as much as I can about what I've been up to here, but we'll just have to see how we go. You know, I really, truly love this city and have loved my time here. And although there remains so much that I want to see and do in England, I'm really, really looking forward to the next part of my trip. Bring it on.