Be silent, my brain!

Im ill, once again. This time something completely different. But that is not what I wanted to tell you my Dear Void. Im troubled. Im not IN trouble, just troubled. Thinking too much. I can say that about myself more often that I would like. I have a strange habbit of overworking my brain, ending up more confused than I was before. Weird, isnt it?

I had a long conversation with my father yesterday. I was feeling ill and nauseous and then he called me and said that he would really like to talk to me sometimes, one on one. We started the conversation on Sunday, which quickly turned into his monologue and I didnt get to say a word. Just sat there trying to make those tears that I tried to hold back (some managed to escape my eyes) as less noticeable as I could. I just sat there. My mom excused herself at one point and when she came back to the table, I still hadnt got the chance to say anything. I just sat there like a statue. Weeping statue.

I told my dad yesterday that I will end up crying again and I rather not do that in public. Dont get me wrong, I couldnt care less who saw me crying. Im in that point of my life where I give no importance what complete strangers might think about me. I just dont want to be in a place where I cant bawl in peace when I feel like it.

Why is it like that, you may ask? Its because...Im not happy the way I am and I dont mean my looks or personality or anything of that sort. I feel I need to change something. And I have been thinking about things recently. No, not recently. I have been pondering about things for half a year already. And I told my parents that I think about leaving. Leaving my country, going somewhere else. I should have known what followed that statement.

I know my dad has his beliefs and he told me that he sees that Im unhappy. He tossed me some ideas what I could do. Mostly about my work. Because lets face it, the biggest reason I think about leaving is that I soon wont make ends meet. And when one of my friends who makes egg-cartons makes almost half more than I make, that just makes me sad. No offence to people who make egg-cartons or any other work. I just wanted to draw a parallel with how little teachers (Im a teacher) are appreciated here.

My fathers main point seems to be that I need to do something with my talent. Give back to the society. Contribute. But truth to be told, contributing to society doesnt weigh up my personal happiness, the feeling of  being content with myself. Of course its great and I find those people extremely admirable. But I really dont think about that when I need to worry if I manage to pay my bills or having to use creditcard to buy milk and bread at the end of the month.
And for illustrating this, I give you Maslows pyramid of needs. If nothing I wrote here made sense, maybe that helps you to understand.

Just now finished another call with my dad. This time he talked about the balance between my expenses and income.
I dont know how I make it clear to him that I dont see my future happening here. There are many reasons, money being not the only one. And Im not talking about getting rich, Im not that naive that I believe that someone is waiting for me abroad with a pot of gold. Im talking about money as a tool.

But enough for now. I feel nauseous. And this is probably too long for anybody to read...