Well, folks, it's blogging Sunday again. And let me just first provide you with the disclaimer that at the moment I feel like an emotional wreck, so this post will probably result in me coming off like a psychopath.
It's funny how certain songs can take you back. More than just, "oh, that song makes me think of middle school," which is what tends to happen when I watch reruns of Dawson's Creek. I mean songs that very specifically remind you of a particular life event or something you went through.
"Why Can't I?" by Liz Phair just came on my Pandora shuffle, and instantly I was 18 again, somewhere on US Highway 281 between Corpus Christi and Granbury, wondering what happened to my life. Maybe this hits me so hard because almost 9 years later, I'm still wondering. Anyway, at that time in my life, I was just starting college (at a college I had only decided to attend 3 weeks before school started), my first boyfriend had just broken up with me, and for a lot of reasons I felt like I had gone from being on top of the world after just finishing high school to everything going right down the crapper. The year was a series of difficult life lessons that ended up being some of the best memories I have. My first taste of adulthood, although I was still such a baby. (I'll probably look back on my life right now in 10 years and think I'm a baby now, but that's just the way it goes).
Hearing that song today sort of made me feel like what I'm going through now mirrors what I went through then. Now, I am not nearly so naive, there is no guy in the picture, and I am an actual adult rather than a college student, but I still find that I make a lot of the same mistakes and find myself in similar predicaments (....isn't the definition of insanity doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result? Maybe we don't need to entertain that...) I mean seriously, what is that? I've uprooted myself enough to realize that I often fall victim "geographical solution," where you relocate yourself as a solution to your problems, instead of dealing with them, and of course what happens is that they follow you.
I get so excited about the next phase, the next adventure, and then once I'm in it, I can't wait to leave. I have a constant countdown running in my head. I'm now afraid that I don't know how to live without one. Seven months. 30 weeks. 200 days, give or take. The amount of time it's been since last Christmas. That's how long I have until I can come home. I don't want to treat this like a prison sentence, but that's what it feels like sometimes. I keep imagining the moment I will walk through the doors of the international terminal at DFW airport to see my parents there waiting for me. I imagine the feeling that this was all worth it, that I got what I came for. I imagine the sense of accomplishment I will have for seeing this through.
On the other hand, today I was thinking about the sadness I felt when I was leaving Korea the first time. Today, it occurred to me that I honestly don't think I would feel that way if I left Korea tomorrow. See, last time, I had connected with people, I had gotten to the point where I liked my kids and had more or less made peace with the school. This time, I don't really have any problems with the school or my job, I mean sure there are mild annoyances, but that's any job. But I have no social support system. Outside of work and the gym, I feel the most secure and happy when I'm spending time with my three friends in this country, each of whom lives in a different city and therefore is not a part of my day to day life. Honestly, if I left to come home right now I don't think I would care. I would feel sad that it didn't work out, but I don't think there is anything at all I would miss (I did miss things about Korea itself last time, but by now I think I've been Korea-ified enough to last me a lifetime). Of course, if I did that I would miss out on the severance pay and free plane ticket home I will receive at the end, but I'm talking more about my own feelings than about practical things. I think this whole thing is something I was trying to make up for botching when I was 23/24 and now I just want to move past it, which I ironically couldn't achieve (or chose not to achieve) without coming back.
I keep trying not to be alone, and I keep ending up alone anyway. What is the point?
No comments:
Post a Comment