talk

I woke up this morning to a text from my father, "So, people are wondering if you are ok because you aren't blogging...." It was one of those moments where you feel your stomach drop, where you feel like you're being caught in the act, where you feel like you've let someone, something, down. The truth is, I am struggling. For a plethora of reasons, stupid, small reasons, that I have let myself flounder in, let myself believe are all too large to accept, let myself wallow in.

Please enjoy these very real pictures of what life has actually been like since I last wrote. That being said, I think it's important that you know that the seeds of this dandelion held on for dear life... far too strong for my wishes, yet hilarious at the same time.

See I have this problem. When life gets rough, I become the very opposite of what I love most about myself. When life gets rough, I become a recluse. I just stop letting people in. I stop calling, I stop going out, and in this new period of life, it seems, I stop writing. Because if I don't put myself in situations where my very nature will relinquish the shallow, the deep, and everything in between that exists within my mind, then I can pretend that these thoughts don't exist. Sometimes, even I don't realize they exist, as I have practiced and perfected this method of dealing.

Perhaps people just know this about me, perhaps they just care, still perhaps the planets align and someone I love feels a need to chat and by mere chance asks the question, makes the statement that I have been dreading, avoiding, needing to hear. Regardless, one thing is clear to me in these moments: love never fails. So when I woke up this morning to the dreaded text from my father, I thought about what I had to say to him, the reasons I had to explain. So here they are. Raw and unfiltered, because I think it's important to let people in.

No worries guys, I did successfully remove myself from the quicksand I was stuck in, the only casualty being my right Chaco, who is, sadly, ripped beyond repair.

I miss my family. Some days are harder than others. When I decided to submit an application to serve as a Peace Corps Volunteer over a year ago, my biggest fear, and the reason that many people told me that I wouldn't make it, was leaving my family. When I got my invitation, I was sitting in a bed in a hostel in Dublin, Ireland at four in the morning. I had three days to respond. Three days that I would spend traveling back home leaving me with barely five hours with my family to respond to my invitation. Though I knew I would accept, part of me needed to be home when I did it. I needed to talk with my family. I needed to know that this wasn't something I was doing alone. I think I also needed my family to know that I understood what I was doing, that I knew what I was asking, that I knew I was leaving, but that I would never leave them. The hardest moments in this journey were the final moments sitting in the airport knowing the only moments promised to me to see my family again would be over two years later. This week, my mother started her new job as the biggest wig of Salina schools, and wow that sucked. Little moments like that, like sitting at my coffee shop here in Çorovodë, Albania and literally being unable to celebrate with her, to hug her goodbye, to take her a Diet Coke from Sonic, those moments suck.

Behold this picture of me attempting to survive the ridiculous heat at the river, and please note that I am laying on my stomach solely because I forgot to put sunscreen on certain areas of myself, and am no longer able to properly sit.

I feel like I'm in a rut. I am nearly 6 months into my service. For a long time I felt as though I was making progress every day. I was learning the language. I was making new friends. I was starting new things in my community. I was realizing certain truths about life, love, happiness, wholeness, and the inner workings of my own mind nearly every day. Now, it feels at times that that person is a person of the past. I know the language. I get better every day, but the feeling of going home and suddenly being able to talk and learn about a whole different aspect of life with the people around me has long since passed. I have adjusted. I know the people. I have a routine at work. Nothing feels challenging to me anymore. My life is normal. All of the sudden, the moments of personal growth feel sparse. I don't feel like I am making progress as a human. I don't feel like my experiences have any real worth of being written.

Just out here swimming through the river trying to get good pictures of the cool stuff here in the vode, and though I am not a professional photographer, I would argue that I absolutely look the part.

So, not only do I feel like I am in a rut, I really am. Last weekend Albania held their local elections, elections that were and are much contested for various reasons. The politics behind these elections is neither here nor there, but the effect of elections in general has been stressful and frustrating to say the least. The time leading up to and following the election is just a time of uncertainty, so nothing can or will be set in stone. It has been hard to want to try things, to make progress, but to know that this period of time just won't allow it. So, I'm in a rut, and I feel powerless to get out, a frustrating and disheartening feeling.

I feel disappointing, like I am in trouble, like I am doing something wrong. I am an American attempting to exist in Albania. I am an American attempting to respect the cultural bounds of this place, but also knowing that it is part of my duty here to share and exhibit the culture of America. Not only is it my duty to retain my American culture, but there are also many aspects of American culture that I just am not willing to part with, or, as it turns out, budge an inch. I am just not going to wear dresses to look nice while I'm in public, my thighs were not made for that, especially in this heat. I also am just not going to stop running. If I need to keep wearing my pants, I really, honestly need to. I am just not going to let anyone dictate what, when, and with who I am going to do things. My independence is just too important to me. So regardless of the disappointed looks I get from the people attempting to force a little bit of control, I'm not letting go.

Alright so I'm blaming this one on iTunes. I wiped out pretty hard core after my song cut off for no reason.

Finally, I'm scared of what is next. Though the next steps for me are nearly two years away, my need to plan is getting the better of me. I just can't plan from here, and though it's what is coming next, it is just a little bit too early to even try. So the career bit is a bit nerve racking. Beyond this though, the tried and tested fear of life, and precious time in general, is burning bright right now. I don't know where I will be in two years, five years, ten years. I don't know if I want kids, or even marriage, to be honest. Maybe I just want to be completely untethered, travel, and live vicariously through my siblings for the normal stuff (will they want normal things?). Right now though, it seems that even thinking about those things, those permanent things, is a waste of time. At the same time, it feels as though I am wasting time if I allow myself to relax on that front. So instead, I just sit around and grapple with whether or not I should grapple about it.

I don't really have a caption for this, but it's a cool picture of me attempting to be a photographer that actually knows what she is doing.

I can't sit here and tell you that these struggles are universal for Peace Corps Volunteers, but I would not be surprised. Regardless, I think it is generally important to recognize the things that cause us pain, that cause us to recluse, to hide from others for the fear of them knowing that what's going through our minds is more than just the beautiful views in front of us, the spring flowers, the easy, and the happy. So please, if you notice my absence, there is a reason. Because anyone who knows me knows that I never pass up an opportunity to tell all. Of all of my fears, vulnerability isn't one of them. So my absence means that I'm stuck in my head, that I need a reminder to get out.