After high school I found myself stuck in a situation from which I did not see any escape. I had been suffering from depression for three years then, I royally screwed my finals and I had no future perpective.
I knew I needed a big change. I was yearning to go away from my hometown and be shaken up by life to snap out of that infinite sadness that froze my brain and would not let me think. I was waiting to get better to do anything, but getting better did not seem like an option anymore. Maybe I needed to do something to get better.
I was afraid to fail. I did not want to try an fail because I knew I would have become even sadder. I did not want more pain. On the other side, I did not feel myself getting better, and I started to think that doing nothing would have led me to become sadder anyway.
So, one day, I decided without being ready. I decided without thinking about it, because depression fogged my thoughts and I could not think straight even if I tried. I decided to step out of my comfort zone and put myself in a situation in which I needed to do something to survive.
That was it. I got on a plane directed to another country to find a job and a place for rent to stay. That day was not a happy one. I was leaving behind the comfort of my house, my friends, safety and reassurance for the complete unknown. It hurt, but I somehow knew that I needed a change that hurt so much to make me snap out.
I found myself wandering from restaurant to restaurant with a blank CV and my broken English asking to work. I never thought I could make it, but I did it anyway. Until they hired me. It was horrible. I could not even note down simple orders because I could not understand.
That was the beginning of a long and complex journey which led me to call England my home today. It was not easy, at all. I got hired and then fired because the place closed down. I went to work in a fast food full time with a miserable pay and that job made my depression go deeper because I did not see any meaning in it. Some days I lived completely in autopilot.
Until I decided to apply to a British university. I got accepted, to my surprise, but depression struck again. I did not even make the end of welcome week. I got so anxious that I could not get out of my room withouth bursting into tears. Depression numbed me so much that I thought I could not understand a word of what was being said to me.
I quit. Went back home. Sulked in my defeat for two months. My parents were desperate, they did not know how to help me. I did the only thing that I knew would work: going back to that awful fast food place. They hired me again. This time was different, though. As I classified going to university and failing to stay there as my lowest point, I decided that working there was not so bad.
And, I reapplied to univeristy. Something inside me just would not give up. I knew I wanted to study in this country, it was just not the right time. Just not the right time. I wanted to do it for real.
So, I started to apply for other jobs in which I needed to talk with people more, to train my English in order to be ready for the start of the next academic year. I found a job in a little pub so that I would constantly talk to people, and I also worked part time as a tour guide.
That is the furtherst point I reached out of my comfort zone. I hated being the centre of attention, and there I was, at the centre of attention speaking in a foreign language. It was embarassing. The more embarassed I felt the more shifts I took. I ended up loving the job.
That September of my first year in a British university I stepped into the kitchen to meet my housemates for the first time. I felt tense as I was just waiting for the anxiety to come back and ruin everything again. But, it didn’t. I understood what was being said to me. I could answer. And right there I understood that that time was different, that time I could do it.
Four and a half years later, six and a half since I came to England, I find myself doing a master and with prospects of living here. If you met me in high school you would have not had any hopes on me. I did not have any.
I wanted to tell you my story to show you that one brave decision can change your life. You do not need to be ready, you need to be brave. In the end, everyone says that they regret more what they did not do it than what they did.
If I failed at this, I am telling you, I would be glad I tried anyway so I knew that at least I gave it a shot. I want to tell you, if you want to do something, never let fear stop you. Be brave. I did not think I could make it until I graduated from undergraduate. I have always doubted of myself. But I decided that the more I doubted, the more I needed to stick to it. And that if I ever felt afraid to do something, well, that would be the first thing on my list.
After all, nothing can be worse than that time in which I fell in the middle of the pub dropping fish and chips everywhere in front of everyone. If I did that and overcame it, you can do anything too.
Just one brave decision. Please, let me know your thoughts about this. And good luck with your journey.