A Series of Unfortunate Stereotypes by Lucy Nichol

Author:Lucy Nichol
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781911246664
Publisher: Trigger Publishing
Published: 2018-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

In a cab with the Aussie Hero petrol station burger. You make bad choices when you’ve had a drink.

Oh my god, this could be like a real-life Erinsborough!5 My own version of Ramsey Street.

I was so convinced this was the right thing to do that I said I would take the room, jumped in a taxi and moved in. But it wasn’t Ramsey Street. Jason and Kylie didn’t live there. And so when I heard from the girl from Balaclava 36 hours later, I made my excuses and jumped on a train back to the city.

I met and made some amazing friends. I was back in touch with Kat, the Canadian friend I made on the Stray Bus in NZ. She also moved into the gorgeous house in Balaclava. Our household included a great couple from Perth and a girl from Newcastle in the UK. I got a job in recruitment and had ticked every box.

Friends. Tick.

Home. Tick.

Job. Tick. I have never been diagnosed with depression (although it was recently hinted at by a therapist. They didn’t want to label me, but they brought up the possibility and my need for self-care). But looking back on this trip, I do wonder if I was somewhat depressed. Or perhaps I was just homesick. It’s hard to know, but the jaw obsession and the unhappiness and the constant restlessness were definitely not right. I dreaded spending even one night in on my own. I couldn’t bear to be alone. I forced everyone to watch British movies and they struggled to understand the accents in every single Guy Ritchie film ever made. I longed for home but at the same time hated the idea of returning to it having failed in my pursuit of happiness. Every night out was filled with hope and anticipation that always, always failed to live up to expectations. I signed up to about four different dance classes – belly dancing, street dancing, salsa dancing, and pole dancing – but I didn’t stick any of them out. I shopped like crazy in Melbourne’s fashionable Prahran, I dined in the finest restaurants and, unlike other travellers, I lived in a beautiful home with two balconies, for Christ’s sake!

I was in Melbourne, a fantastic and welcoming city. And, yet again, I was miserable.

My gums were bleeding, so I convinced myself I had HIV. I spent hundreds of dollars visiting GPs, having STD tests that came back negative (I read that bleeding gums could be a sign of HIV). But I didn’t do the specific HIV test while I was away – that was far too scary for my anxious mind to contend with, given that, with my bleeding gums, it was highly likely I had contracted it at some point in my life. I therefore saved that one for later. But don’t worry, that came back negative too, as my GP advised was the likely outcome. I still nearly passed out with anxiety at the hospital, prompting the nurse to advise me to lie down while she fetched me a sugary drink because I had gone as white as a ghost.

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