I don’t really know where to start on this one, but I guess the biggest news I have is that I’m heading home at the end of August. I know it was meant to be June…then July…but things are always subject to change, and I often feel pressured to give people answers when they ask me how long I plan to stay. So I just said the first month that seemed reasonable.
I’ve been wondering why I failed to update so regularly, and how the posts sort of trickled out. I realized that experiences are sort of like an artichoke. This is sort of a lame metaphor, but I hope it illustrates the idea well. Basically, you can never know if you like artichokes until you finish eating a properly cooked, real artichoke. Until only a few years ago, the artichokes I knew were canned and pickled and pretty unpleasant. Then, an awesome friend convinced me to try the real thing and I was floored. The leaves have this little meaty-well, you get the idea. But after eating the leaves, you have to get to the heart of the plant, and that part-is the best part. So my first artichoke experience was amazing, and probably because I stuck it out until I’d eaten all of the artichoke to evaluate how good it was. Kind of like finishing the whole movie, or the entirety of a TV series before you go online and complain about how bad it was.
The conclusion is, I’ll be better able to write about this experience once it’s over.
I think the things that have happened to me here can be neither good nor bad, but can be processed into a lesson, as with all things in life. There is some huge lesson I’ve learned since I’ve been here, and I’ve been trying to articulate it, and failing. The obvious one is that “I know nothing about everything,” which is troubling, but also humbling.
It was hard to make my life here episodic, especially after things normalized. It became like writing a blog about living in California. Soon, things were not so special to me anymore. But as my time here ends, I’ve been chasing down those “special” feelings I had about everything, and trying to feel that way again so I don’t punch myself after I’ve come back to California. I feel like when I come home, it will close the loop, and I’l be able to better evaluate what really went on while I was here.
Every day is different. I seem to revolve between “Let’s just stay here”, to “I GOTTA GET THE HELL OUT”, to “I don’t know what to do and I wish I was a child again so I didn’t have to make decisions”.
I have a feeling many people have been experiencing something similar.
This roulette of moods is exhausting, so exhausting I can’t sleep so well, as usual. I often stay awake and night and wonder what decisions led me to this place, where my decisions will lead me now, and how unbearable it is to watch U.S. politics right now. Talk about second thoughts of coming home.
More often than not I lay awake and wonder if I’m able to make life work when I come home. There’s so many things to think about that I took for granted before, and I’m scared I haven’t covered everything. I’ve barely approached the idea of arrival, and trying to move out of my apartment in the next few weeks. The task is daunting, and I’ve been trying to break it apart slowly so I don’t have a ton of work to do the day of.
As to the feelings, I’m freaking out. I might seem calm on the outside, but my internal feelings are the equivalent to witnessing C’thulu erupt from the bowels of the earth. I laugh when I cry, and I cry when little things happen. My 5-year old students started singing “Try Everything” and I almost burst into tears.
I suppose it’s unavoidable, the whole emotional thing. Just buying the ticket was physically difficult, because I was in so much denial about what was really happening. To be clear, it’s not so much about regret in leaving Taiwan, but more about the actual huge change that’s hitting me in the face. I do sometimes wonder if I’m making the right choice. My decision to move to Taiwan was so concrete, so solid, and I had zero doubts. This time around, though, I know I need to come home, but I’m terrified. I have so many doubts and fears. Finding a job, finding a place to live, choosing a cell service provider, how can I even do anything anymore? I feel paralyzed by having to wrap up a household here and then build a new one in California.
But if it’s hard to do, it must be worth doing.
Missing Yo seemed like it would be simple to deal with. It’s not. Just thinking about being separated from him makes me panic and incredibly needy. He’s coming in December, but even those few months without him feel like they will be so long. Thinking about it makes me sad. It’s a hard feeling to write about, and doing it now will make me face the impending departure at the airport, which I can’t do right now.
Right now, it’s all about enjoying the food, the people, and the easy-peasy schedule I’ve got going on. I try to go out with my friends as much as possible, and I try to take every opportunity to see and enjoy Taiwan as much as I can. I force myself to look upon the next few months with bittersweet wisdom, knowing that I’ll miss Taiwan, but that I’ll be ready to come home.
Coming home. I wanted it for so long, but now it’s finally here, and it’s hard to believe. I’m so happy when I think of my old haunts, my friends, my family, and driving again. Life is harder in California than it is here, but it’s okay. It’s worth it. I’m ready to see the diversity of people again, to be able to enter any shop without fear of not being able to communicate, and the beach.
Some days I worry that my friends have forgotten about me, or that it wouldn’t make a difference to them if I came home or not. I’ve sort of come to peace with this, and decided not to have any expectations. Or so I say.
The biggest thing I’m trying to do now is focus on the future, and try to learn from the past. I often ruminate on what could have been, what I could have done, but I’ve had enough of it. I want to focus on what I CAN do, and what is within my power right now.
This is an encouraging thought.
For your reference:
Departure Date: August 27, 2016
Arrival Date: August 28, 2016