Monthly Archives: June 2015

Anxious, Anxious, Anxious

It’s been a tough couple of weeks. I’m not sure why exactly, but I’ve been very worked up for seemingly no reason at all. Looking back over what I’ve been up to for the past little while, certainly nothing warrants the amount of anxiety I have been exhibiting. Get up, have breakfast, go to work on lovely bike ride, look after children, read them stories, sing them songs, put them to bed, wake them up, read them more stories, sing them more songs, go home on even nicer bike ride, eat nice dinner, possibly go to movies or go to gym or see friends or drink nice wine or maybe all of them, go to bed. And, in case you’re wondering, no I haven’t accidentally missed out details of our daily¬†drone attack or, you know, the recent enemy army invasion or, basically anything really that would warrant some kind of freak out and the low-level, general uneasiness and angst I have been experiencing for the last few weeks.

I’ve never been very good at noticing when I’m feeling anxious, which conversely means I’m not very good at figuring out how to make it better. I am getting better at noticing the bodily signs that indicate I’m experiencing a higher level of stress than normal. Unfortunately, by the time you’re thinking, ‘oh, shooting pains in my belly so bad I have to lie down, oh, I wonder if I’m worried about something’, or ‘huh, it’s 3:30am and I’m still not able to go to sleep, perhaps it’s something to do with the racing, mindless, repetitive self-critical thoughts I’ve been having for the past 5 hours, I wonder what to do about that’, it’s usually past the point of quick and easy answers, like, ‘just trying breathing in for 10 and out for 10 a few times’ (‘but my stomach hurts so much I think I might be sick, it’s kind of difficult to count to ten at the moment’).¬†At 3am this morning I googled ‘insomnia’ and found out all the wonderful, useful things I should have done 9 hours previously to prevent myself from being awake at 3am, which felt good in a self-punishment kind of way, but certainly didn’t help the insomnia any.

Also, I don’t really know what to do with the anxiety, because I can’t really understand what it’s about. There is no logical reason for me to be anxious. I live in a safe city that is fun and cheap and easy to be in. I have a job that I enjoy and am good at and the people there seem to like me. I have my lovely A. and am getting more and more friends in Berlin. I can speak enough German to get by at a restaurant and it’s getting better all the time. But it doesn’t matter how many times I repeat this to myself, it doesn’t seem to make anything better.

Eh.

Maybe it’s a phase and it’ll all blow over eventually and suddenly I’ll remember how good life is and I’ll be able to sleep again. Or, maybe I’ll never sleep again and I can be one of those geniuses that only ever takes cat-naps and then, like, won the war or wrote 10 literary masterpieces and still had time to be a witty alcoholic. Or something.

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A Berlin Summer Bucket List

Summer is here. It’s been here a while. Or, at least, I’ve been acting like it’s been here for a while, walking around in summer dresses and big hats and sunglasses, fanning myself with my hand and sweating and complaining about the heat all the while trying not to acknowledge that it’s really only 19 degrees. Back in May, I insisted that A. and I sit in the park with beers after work one day, because, ‘this is what people do in Berlin in summer’, which is true, except that it was also true that whilst it had been a sunny 20 degrees at work at 4pm, by 7pm in the ‘Park-of-No-Sun’, it had dipped to a chilly 14 – 16 degrees and my summer evening made my hands go purple. A. pointed out that, except the people in shorts playing football, everyone else in the park was wearing winter jackets and perhaps I should have paid more attention to them. Smug bastard.

Anywho, it genuinely is summer now (I’ve been sunburnt, really, it’s here) and I’ve been so excited about it for so long, I’m now worried that it’s going too quickly and I’m wasting it and it will be miserable winter again before I know it.

As such, I thought I would write down the most important things I want to do in Berlin in summer before the weather turns.

1) Drink beers in the park until the sun goes down at 10pm (and not get purple hands)

2) Drink beers in a beanbag and/or hammock at a bar on the Spree

3) Despite viscous rumours that there may be eels, I want to go swimming at Wannsee or Nikolasee or any of the various other Sees surrounding Berlin.

4) Go on a bike tour to the outside of Berlin and eat strawberries by the side of the road.

5) Cycle to Leipzig

6) Walk around Strausberg

7) Do all 20 Green Hikes advertised on the Berlin.de website (one completed, nineteen to go)

8) Go kayaking at Wannsee

9) Go kayaking at Treptower

10) Go rollerblading at Templehof

11) Have a proper BBQ at one of the smokey, hazy, congested Grillplatzes scattered across the parks of Berlin

12) Go to the open-air cinema

13) Spend a day reading/writing at the very tops of the giant climbing frame behind Yorckstrasse (and chasing away every single child that dares trespass on my reverie). Staying there until the stars come out.

14) Paddleboat!

15) Go to Spandau (and do some ballet?)

That’s all I can think of at the moment. Also, eating much ice-cream and laying in the sun (with sunscreen on) and generally being blissful and peaceful and stuff.

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On Not Speaking the Language

Unexpected consequences of not knowing German whilst living in Germany:

1) You miss jokes. Or to understand the joke takes so much effort on your behalf that it ceases to be funny. Or you understand the meaning so broadly and with so little nuance that it just seems like someone is stating the obvious, rather than saying something witty (‘have you ever noticed that men are men and women are women?’ HA OMG LOL) Or it takes you so much time to understand the joke that everyone’s moved on by the time you’re ready to laugh. If you happen to get the joke, with the right amount of impact, at the right speed, you inevitably laugh too loudly and too hard and too desperately just to make sure everyone realises you got the joke.

2) If you happen to manage to make a joke in German everyone laughs really deliberately and encouragingly, like you’re 6 years old and you’ve just managed to tell the one about the chicken crossing the road without screwing up or peeing your pants.

3) In fact, you spend a lot of time feeling like a child, because:
a) children are generally the only people you can properly understand (and the really young ones especially. Like, the ones that talk one word at a time and most of those words are ‘dog’ or ‘mama)
b) adults talking to children are generally the only adults you can understand
c) people don’t talk to you anymore, they talk around you and about you and make decisions on your welfare and happiness without your input
d) you have to take people with you to the scary official places to talk to them on your behalf
e) things are usually confusing
f) you feel completely helpless, unable to fix or influence the world around you, because of your inability to explain yourself, your opinions, desires and beliefs with other people
g) waiters and shopkeepers and other people who want to ask you questions are terrifying (was anyone else terrified of telling the waiter what they wanted to eat when they were a child? No? Just me?)

4) Every day chores like grocery shopping or buying a post stamp become complex and intimidating, something that you can procrastinate for days over, just because you’re worried they might ask you, ‘Do you have a loyalty card?’ In a different way to what you’re used to and how on earth would you respond then? Probably by flapping your arms like a circus seal and crying, probably that’s how.

5) You find yourself rehearsing conversations with people before attempting them, repeating phrases over and over again in your head so that you don’t trip over your words or hesitate or use the wrong gender for a noun (seriously, what gender is Nutella?) or the wrong conjugation or the wrong word order when you get into the real conversation. Getting asked an unexpected question is both distressingly confusing and heart-breakingly disappointing because you’re pretence of competence and fluency has been destroyed.

6) Paranoia levels increase ten-fold. Hundred-fold. Everyone is talking about you at all time forever and all they are ever saying is bad things, because they could talk about you if they wanted, they could say all the bad things about you and you wouldn’t understand it one little bit and that’s probably what they’re also saying after they’ve said the bad things, is they’re probably saying, ha ha ha, she can’t even understand the bad things we’re saying about her, ha ha.

7) You find your own English becoming stilted and weirdly accented through a combination of hearing other people speak a differently modulated and rhythmed language all day, and from hearing them speak your own language with their accents when they speak to you.

8) You spend most of your time around people feeling guilty and apologetic for not speaking their language. When I’m not rehearsing potential German conversations in my head, I’m just saying sorry. All the time, forever.

9) When someone speaks to you socially in English, you get so ridiculously excited that you are basically this puppy:
And so you tell them all the English thoughts you’ve been having since the last time a person asked you an English question, at full speed and in a weird, high-pitched, desperate voice, thereby ensuring that nobody ever speaks to you in English ever again.

10) When people do speak to you in English it’s hard-work and awkward for them, so they look uncomfortable, or unhappy, or scared, or anxious, and then you think, ‘oh god! What have I done to make them look so uncomfortable/unhappy/scared/anxious? I bet they don’t even WANT to talk to me! I bet they don’t even LIKE me! I bet they think I’m really strange because I’m doing the weird, high-pitched fast nonsensical English talking again!’

11) You read out-loud any sign you can understand because you’re so proud you understood it. You read out-loud signs that you almost understand, hoping that by saying them out loud their meaning might become clearer. You read out-loud signs that look funny and have stupid long words, which let’s face it, is a lot of German. You spend a lot of time on public transport reading advertisements to yourself under your breath and looking like a crazy person.

12) Your brain somehow manages to alter all German conversations into German words that you already know, either ignoring words that do not make sense or making them sound like words that you do know, which only becomes awkward when you have to respond to something that someone has said and instead of helping them to go down the slide, you offer them a lollipop.

13) You realise that a lot (most) of the German you understand is only understandable through the added assistance of context, body language and facial expressions and then you feel sad.

Language learning is going swell you guys!

An acctual photo of me studying German

An acctual photo of me studying German

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