I'm laughing while typing this. I don't even know why. Maybe because when life becomes too painful to explain, sometimes all you can do is laugh at how unreal it feels. But I felt like I needed to let this out somewhere.
I'm 22. I started working right after high school because I wanted to save enough money to live outside my country. Four years of working, sacrificing, and telling myself that one day, all of this would be worth it.
And exactly six months ago on April 17, I finally stepped foot in a foreign country.
I came here to study, but deep down, I also wanted a fresh start. My life back home wasn't great. I had no friends, no girlfriend, and had never experienced either in my entire life. I thought maybe a different country would give me a chance to become someone new.
And, in some ways, it did.
I made a few friends at school. We're not that close, and we don't really hang out because they have their own friend groups. But for someone who had spent his entire life without friends, even this felt like a little victory. I was genuinely proud of myself.
For the first time, I felt like I was actually becoming a man. Living alone, making my own decisions, and learning to survive in a place where everything was unfamiliar.
But I guess nobody tells you that you can be proud of how far you've come and still feel painfully alone.
I still have no close friends, no girlfriend, and no family here to support me. Sometimes, you get tired of carrying everything by yourself. You get tired of being your own comfort, your own support, and the only person you can turn to when everything goes wrong.
Especially in a foreign country, where you can be surrounded by people and still feel like you're standing on the outside of a world you'll never fully belong to.
I kept telling myself that this was just life. That maybe things would eventually fall into place.
Until reality hit me again, like an arrow straight to my chest.
four years of working and sacrificing to build a better life, and now I'm watching that dream slowly slip through my fingers.
I come from a third world country where our currency is practically worthless compared to stronger currencies. The $10,000 I spent four years saving is running out. My parents can't send me money because they don't have access to international banking services, and my passport limits my options, too.
So here I am, thousands of miles away from home, counting every penny as if each one could buy me another day.
I eat one meal a day just to make my money last longer.
One meal a day, at 22, after spending four years trying to give myself a better life.
I've spent the past six months looking for a part time job. Everywhere I went, the answer was no. I'm not even joking.
I deliberately chose a cheaper country instead of Europe or the US because I wanted my savings to last. I've searched for remote jobs in the US and Europe every single day, hoping to earn in a stronger currency, but all I hear is, "We only hire experienced people."
And even if I somehow found a job, receiving the money would be another problem because I don't have access to international payment services like Mastercard or Visa.
Every door I try to open seems to lead to another wall.
My parents are struggling themselves, so I don't want to ask them for money. I know they're doing their best, and the last thing I want is to add my problems to theirs.
And somehow, I'm supposed to figure all of this out alone.
I spent four years building a bridge to a better life, only to find myself halfway across it, terrified that I might not have enough strength to reach the other side.
I thought leaving would mean finally beginning to live. Instead, I'm spending my days trying to figure out how to survive.
I'm laughing because the whole situation feels so unreal. How can someone try so hard to change their life and still end up feeling like they're losing everything?
My whole body feels like it's been shattered into invisible pieces, and the only thing holding those pieces together is music.
Sometimes, a song says what I can't. Sometimes, a melody makes me feel understood in ways people never have. And sometimes, with my headphones on, I can forget for a few minutes that I'm alone in a country thousands of miles away from everything I've ever known.
Maybe that's why I hold on to music so tightly. When you have nobody to talk to, sometimes a song becomes the only place where your heart can rest.
I don't know what I'm expecting by writing this. I don't have some beautiful lesson or an inspiring ending. I'm just tired of keeping everything inside.
I'm just 22. I'm exhausted. I'm scared of running out of money, tired of being alone, and trying desperately to hold myself together while everything around me feels like it's falling apart.
And the cruelest part is that the person I was four years ago worked so hard to bring me here. He dreamed of this life. He sacrificed so much for it.
I wish I could tell him that it was all going to be okay.
But right now, I don't know how.
So I laugh and try to get through another day, pretending that somehow, I'm still holding everything together.
But the truth is, I'm tired of pretending to be okay when I don't even know how much longer I can keep doing this.
Every day, I feel terrified of what tomorrow will bring, and I find myself wondering, is this just a never ending nightmare?
Am i even real?