Read about The time I moved to Downtown Vancouver first
Chapter 1: The month of problems
After the initial honeymoon phase of a new place, person or thing starts to wear off, you begin to sink back into your normal routine of doing things, and life starts getting problems again.
I think it takes me about 2-3 weeks of having something new in my life, such as a new car, or a new place to live, or I’m visiting a new place before the novelty of it begins to wear off, and you start to go back towards the mundane life.
So things eventually started to get boring in Vancouver, the honeymoon phase was wearing off, I had seen as much as I could with my limited budget, I had to quit going out for dinner and drinks as often, and just sit at home as often as I could since it’s free, and find entertainment there. So I started to write again, and at the time I was set on writing a novel about my life, even though I knew damn well I would never publish it. So every night I wrote. I think I got up to 10000 words on my longest story (this isn’t the first time I wanted to write about my life) but I knew when I was writing it that I would never be happy enough to publish it, so eventually, I just scrapped that idea. I gave up on it once again, on something I know my higher self wants to do…. And I always come back to it.
Also, remember how I had massive anxiety at the time? With a lot of trouble sleeping? Yes, it was getting worse by the day when I lived in Vancouver. At the beginning it was fine, I kept it calm and under control, but it wasn’t before long that I started having troubles sleeping at night, and so I started to go to bed later and later, with no one to really care how long I slept in each day. So I became depressed in the sense that I felt like nobody needed or cared about me in Vancouver. Whereas I had a lot of connections and people in Calgary that I cared for, here I just felt so empty and profoundly lonely. Sure I had people here in Vancouver, but none of them actually cared one bit about me.
I was also running out of money very quick, and this was causing me a lot of stress. There was no denying this anymore, I was going broke. Working at the white spot wasn’t gonna cut it, and I would need to fix this problem quick or I wouldn’t afford rent this month… So when my friends had a house boat trip planned, I decided I would go (even though I couldn’t afford it) and then after the trip, I would drive my car back to Calgary in a grand attempt to sell it so I could pay this month’s rent. I don’t even know how to sell a car, but this was my solution.
Chapter 2: The houseboat trip
So that is what I did, I decided fairly last minute to go on this houseboat trip my good friend had been planning for months. I realized on the day I left for the houseboat that it was drizzling rain outside and that this was the first drop of rain I had seen in Vancouver so far even when so many people warned me about it rained all the time. Then what seemed like the second I left Vancouver downtown, it started to rain, and it rained for most of the drive from Vancouver to the houseboat on the Shuswap lake, which is about 6-hour drive, and my windshield wipers broke at some point, so I had to pull over every few minutes to keep fixing them. I should have turned around, and gone back to Vancouver, but I didn’t. I felt safe, and I knew I would reach my destination, and that it would be beautiful and sunny out when I had arrived.
And it was absolutely gorgeous out when I arrived. The sun was out again, and I was just so happy to be back with my friends again, I felt that feeling of loneliness vanish during that trip. For something, I didn’t really want to go to it ended up being a blast! And on one particular night on the houseboat, we got some magic mushrooms and did those. For me my experience was pretty good, I laughed the hardest I’ve ever laughed in my life that night, and later I had a pretty profound experience by myself later that night. Basically, the vision was trying to get me to understand how much potential I had. I dunno it was weird… I wish I could remember more of this experience.
(Insert post about houseboat when complete)
Chapter 3: Selling my car
When the houseboat trip was over a few days later, I did what I said, and drove my car back to Calgary, and then proceeded to sell it. I ended up selling it to my ex’s new girlfriend which we all became great friends later on. Buy saying goodbye to my favorite car ever was sad. She brought me to Vancouver and back safely, and she was the faster car I’ve ever had, which was fun. I actually only had her for about 4 months before I sold her, making her my shortest time with a car. We so far had the best adventure though!
I took this picture on the day that I sold her to my friend (who still has it btw)
Chapter 4: Back home to Vancouver I go
Then after a couple of days in Calgary, I was begging someone for a ride to the airport so I could leave Calgary, to fly back to Vancouver, now carless… I haven’t been without a car since I was 16, and now I had to go to this big city where I already felt trapped, and hope that I am okay without a car? Yeah in my dreams, I thought. My anxiety was in full swing once again, becoming stronger and stronger every day.
White spot didn’t help the matter, I was overworked and underpaid by a lot more than I had ever experienced in Calgary. On one day at work, our pop machine broke, so they had me mop up the spraying water going all over the floor, for about 2 full hours. Just continuous mopping. It was just awful. Then on another day, I had two older people tell me that they were traveling to Vancouver to see it before it burned down, two separate people on the same day! The fear of the end of the world was growing stronger, and now I felt completely trapped in this big city that is surrounded by water, with only 2 or 3 bridges that leave downtown, that would back up for 45 minutes in just normal rush hour traffic….
I was becoming scared. After the houseboat and that “mushroom fun,” I began having visions. Where I could vividly see myself in a disaster target zone if I were to stay living in Vancouver. I saw myself trapped up in this apartment building, with no way to leave. The only way I could escape would be to swim across the ocean to Vancouver Island, Which was pretty far btw. But my mind became a hotspot for thinking up all the disaster like stories… So that really didn’t help my situation one bit.
I remember becoming an alcoholic though while I lived in Vancouver, (probably due to the people I was hanging out with as well as this fear of a disaster striking.) So every night I would get drunk. Like by myself most the time, but when I could afford it, or John was buying, I would get drunk in downtown Vancouver and then stumble home late at night. Usually in a taxi, but this one time I remember walking for like 2 kilometers at 2 am to my place back in west Vancouver, but I was in the heart of downtown and I walked! I thought that party scene was a cool experience for sure, but looking back it kinda scares me about how reckless I was being while I lived in Vancouver.
There was this one night, and this is a night I can vividly remember to a certain point…
Chapter 5: the dark night
I decided after work to get drunk (nothing unusual this had now become the norm) So I stopped and bought my usual bottle of wine at the liquor store, I was living right by Stanley park at the time and I could see the ocean from my balcony. It was a lovely view actually, and I fondly remember looking out there that night as the sunset and wondering what else is out there on this beautiful earth?
This is actually my bedroom and living area that was all mine, I spent many hours staring out this window. I wish I had a better picture of the view…
So anyways, back to the night. I had drunk the bottle of wine already, and at this point, I noticed the hard liquor on the floor that I had brought with me from Calgary. “I may as well start to drink these now,” I thought as the night was still young, only 10 pm at the time. So I continued drinking, watching family guy and drawing on myself, yes I was weird and drew fake tattoos all over my body. I still don’t know what I was doing really. I wanted to be badass looking I guess? Not really sure…
I remember, it was 1.45 (this is how aware I was in this memory) I was laying on top of my bed, drunker than I’d been in all my nights out, and my life was completely falling apart.
“My life was going well back home, why did I have to go fuck it all up by moving to Vancouver? I’m broker than a joke, I won’t be able to pay next months rent, I sold my car like a dumbass, you work the shittiest job you have ever had in your life, and you’re hundreds of miles away from your friends.”
“What the fuck am I doing with my life???” I said out loud.
So at about 2 am drunk me got the bright idea to for a walk down to the beach.
So I got ready, put my headphones in, and went for a nice leisurely stroll to the ocean, at 2 o’clock in the morning. What the fuck was I thinking!!! I was very keenly aware though, I remember that I found like I was aware of any present dangers that could harm me, but I felt safe knowing that. It was strange because normally I would never do something so daring and bold, I don’t know what I was thinking, but I guess if it was meant to happen.
When I arrived at the beach, which was English bay, a very famous beach in west end Vancouver. In the day it is packed with people, but at night not a soul to be found. I just sat there playing in the sand like a little kid for I dunno how long. Just thinking about my life, reflecting back on my childhood and pondering my place in this world. Why was I here? What led me to this moment in time? I felt like I was better than the person I was currently being, and I knew I needed to make a change.
At one point I got brave and decided to go wade out in the ocean. And I felt my body pull me further and further out until the waves were up to my waist before I turned back towards the shore. Weird thoughts you have when you drink alone and go down to the ocean at night. I felt incredibly small sitting beside the giant mysterious ocean, and yet I felt just as powerful as it. Why did I come to Vancouver, what was the point of this? I questioned myself. I laid in the sand, and asked myself again “what the fuck am I doing here…” I was starting to connect the dots, which I do very often in my life. Everything was starting to make sense to me, why things needed to happen, and why I need to move to Vancouver, and it was in this moment, that I decided that I needed to go home to Calgary, I realized I missed my friends and family too much, and it was where I needed to be.
Anything at all could have happened to me that night. I could have died, or drown out in the ocean, I did feel compelled to go further out than I had ever gone before! But I remember feeling extremely safe the entire evening like nothing could harm me, and if something did I would instinctively know what I needed to do. At the time of this experience, I thought that is just my drunken “invincible” state, but I realized now that this was my inner self/ guidance system, directing me so effortlessly.
And then I remember getting up from the beach and walking home, and I remember walking through the neighborhood, and I was about half way home when I completely blacked out, not remembering anything else past that one section.
That night I had some pretty profound realizations, one being that my soul purpose was not in Vancouver and it’s been fun being here for this long, and I think I got this “Party girl Lindsay” out of my system for awhile, but I evidently needed to go back home.
I woke up the next morning in the same clothes I was wearing the night before, absolutely covered in Sand….
And it seemed like I had hit rock bottom.
So I can only go up from here…
Part 3 continues: Part 3: My last two weeks in Vancouver