unemployment

My last formal job ended on November 9, 2022. A month later, amid severe health issues, I joined another organization but had to leave within 2 months because of said health issues. I spent 4 months between March and June 2023 working on art and stories, a project I had had in the pipeline since May 2021. In July 2023, I gave editing my own work a shot. In August 2023, I decided to continue the writing-crying-editing process from Bangalore, where my friends and girlfriend lived. In October, I joined my parents on a month-and-a-half long tour of their friends and family in the States, where I intended to build SEL and ECCE networks but was overwhelmed by my mother's social calendar. I returned to Bangalore in November, and began looking for work, or avenues to make income from sales of my art, or manufacturing of journals and planners, while continuing work on my stories and books. Soon enough, because my health issues made an unwelcome reappearance, I realized I didn't have enough energy to pursue more than one goal. I deprioritized income, and tried to focus on the writing, but the health issues made the writing difficult, and my work was sloppy, and I had no answer for how I was affording rent, and so I gave up on writing and art, and restarted my job hunt. I say hunt when I mean to say unrelenting unsuccessful pursuit of a job where I would get to do things I'm good at (curriculum/lesson planning/teaching) while getting paid enough to afford rent and save up for an eventual move back to the US. The student loan was deferred and remains so.
My girlfriend had to move cities for a policy job starting on July 1, so I followed her, hoping to land an entry level ed/policy role in the ed/policy capital of the country. What a surprise! It didn't work. I'm underqualified, overqualified, not aligned, bad at interviews, I've been out of the job market since 2022, and I have nothing to show for the time I've spent unemployed.

But I've gotten into a PG Diploma in Early Childhood Education program. I've signed up for an SEL for Teachers Coursera certificate.

Now I'm back at my parents' house. I've moved up 2 sizes. My parents are happy to buy me clothes and a gym membership and author-illustrator workshop passes, and offer me clerical work for minimum wage and closely monitor my second masters application process.

I'm still trying desperately to sell my stickers to the hundreds of coaching classes in the city. I'm asking galleries and cafes and libraries if I can display my work for sale/research/a college project. I'm reading the shit I wrote a whole year ago and trying so hard not to have to cut my losses.

My psychiatrist suggests I up my anti-anxiety medication. I wish he could just give me a damn paid internship instead.

I'm so, so tired.