RANDOM TOKYO NEWSLETTER

So.

I'm writing this newsletter at a random 'New Days' konbini (convenience store) in Tokyo. I took the day off work to do some official stuff for the coming months. But Lana didn't and she won't be here until tonight.

This is my first time doing this work/write anywhere you want thing. Why didn't anybody tell me how liberating this feels? I envy you guys who aren't stuck in an office every day.

It's nice to be away from my windy town, especially after what happened on Tuesday. I had strange issues with my apartment door. It comes with a digital lock—input the code and it will do its thing. But on that day, it suddenly wasn't doing its thing. It didn't want to unlock despite multiple attempts with the correct code.

It took 13 tries before I finally asked for help. Someone came over to check, and it seemed pretty straightforward. Replace the battery and it should be as good as new. The problem is, nobody told us that when you take the battery out, the lock will go into protective mode and prevent the battery cover from budging too. There was no way we could install the fresh battery in.

[Spoiler Alert: Ultimately, we found out that it wasn't the battery causing the problem. The lock had simply aged and stopped working.]

This was after 17:00, past office hours. Nobody from the company was available to handle my concerns until the following morning.

Long story short, I was stranded outside my apartment on a random work night.

Now, out of the many things I adore about living here, I've always been transparent that I'm not a huge fan of the workplace. Mainly because most of their conditions are unbelievably inhumane.

Just imagine the mental exhaustion I endured when my supervisor insisted I still show up for work the next day. Not paying mind to my predicament. Not a hint of empathy. Not a hint of concern.

If it wasn't for a friend, I literally would've been homeless for a night. And as if it wasn't enough that I was already anxious about reporting to a new school, I suddenly had to show up without a change of clothes and a fucked up head because I was locked out of my own home.

There's no bending the rules here, I know. I've already gathered that early on.

Not allowed to take sick leave without a doctor's note? Fine. Not allowed to take unpaid leave for anything at all? Fine. Not allowed to avail of the "difficulty going to work" leave in the middle of a blizzard? Fine.

Fine! Make me do unreasonable shit but for fuck's sake say it nicely!

I swear to you, whoever is reading this, I've never met anyone as heartless as my supervisor. When I reached out to her for guidance, she had me feeling truly unsupported.

She would even dare to insinuate that the battery ran out because of my negligence, so I should shoulder the associated fees (jumping to conclusions without proper investigation and inspection, see spoiler alert).

When I tell you I cried myself to sleep that night. It was some shitty sleep too. I'm just really grateful for Lana, I wouldn't have calmed my nerves for an ounce of rest if not for her.

This probably seems like a small deal. But that insecurity of not having a place to go, knowing the most important things you should have on you as a foreigner are inaccessible, and thinking nobody truly has your back when shit hits the fan is undeniably sickening.

The following morning, I left my friend's house early enough to grab a quick breakfast on the way to work. I also exchanged messages with my Mom and it left me crying like a dumb kid again. I told her how exhausted I was. I've been putting up with these people for almost three years now, and my mental health can't take it anymore.

I felt like running away. That urge to escape and just leave everything behind resurfaced yet again. Even now that I'm writing this, I still feel very emotional.

Living this expat life is such a rollercoaster of good and bad. We're expected to tolerate a certain level of adversity, of course. But having an unsupportive environment honestly magnifies the strain.

Yet, I'm still here. Pushing through. Maybe the Tokyo air can offer some sort of peace. We'll sure be enjoying some great food and some great 酒 sake. And I'll sure be taking this time to detach from the stress and let go of the spite.

With someone like her, though? It's gonna take more than this damn Tokyo air and a couple bottles of alcohol.

You better believe the only way I can have that peace back is when I finally escape her version of hell.

Talk to you next week,

Jopaz