this one gets pretty deep too
Last night I wrote, "In some ways I'm more on my own than I've ever been," and even as I typed it, I felt a little off about that statement.
Naturally I thought about it as I drifted off, which took a looooong time since I was so excited about my new place (yay!). I don't think I got to sleep before 2am and then woke up again at 5:30am and couldn't get back to sleep. But back to the point. I realized that actually I don't feel so alone here. That was never the problem. I haven't felt lonely or homesick or isolated at all since coming here. I've been on my own and that feels good. So I think I'd edit my statement to say that in some way I'm more independent here than I've ever been.
Honestly I feel like last year I was more alone than I am now. Even when I was in Mexico, technically surrounded by family, I felt isolated and lonely a lot of the time. Oddly enough, I was happiest when I was on my own in San Miguel de Allende, and then when I was traveling with jesnie to Oaxaca.
When I got back home, I experienced a huge loss in my life. My dad passed away just a week after I got back. It was shocking to say the least. I'm still grateful that I came home when I did; that I had that last, great week with him before he was gone. But then everything was different, and for a while I separated myself from most of the important people in my life. I even distanced myself from my brothers for a while after they took some of their grief out on me in the form of criticism and judgment and trying to control what I would do with my life.
The months that followed were physically challenging for me as well. I got sick for the first time in December with a cold or flu or something. I remember I got one of the worst flues of my life that winter. From then on, I was either ill, or suffering from severe back pain. It wasn't the kind where I could take an advil and feel better. It was the kind where I could barely stand up long enough to feed the dogs. It was the kind where eventually standing, sitting, or lying down in any position was excruciating. The last bout of incapacitating back pain I had was just a few weeks before my scouting trip to Portland, sometime in April.
That whole time was really intense for me. Again, I was isolated; this not only from contact with people, but from the world. I couldn't really go anywhere or do anything. I still wasn't really communicating with most of my friends; my mom was going out of town every other week for various reasons. I was at home, often alone, and in pain, and also dealing with the huge loss of my dad.
The only things I could do was to ice my back and read. So I read a lot. I was drawn to read a lot of spiritual writings, and I found it fascinating. I'd get lost in the pages, reading so many ideas and thoughts that I myself had had in the past but hadn't been able to articulate. One book after another, I sat with ice on my back, a dog on my lap, and read. I think all those different spiritual theories and ideas really helped me deal with my father's death. It was comforting, eye opening, and enlightening. It was also incredibly personal, and it was something I knew I had to do on my own. I wasn't exactly lonely, but I was definitely alone. I needed to be alone. I needed that time to just sit in my house with my dogs curled up next to me to process the changes going on in my life and think about what kind of future I might want.
I think it was the experience in San Miguel, when I lived there for a month and didn't know anyone besides the friends I met along the way, that inspired the next step I would take. I really liked the feeling of setting my own schedule and not having to answer to anyone. I guess that independence is good for me. It makes me feel empowered and happy. I knew I wanted more of that in my life. I started thinking about the lifestyle I would like to live if I had the choice. I knew that lifestyle would include much less time sitting in a car in traffic. It would also include more activity, preferably worked into daily life--walking to the store or to meet up with friend, biking to work, having great hikes nearby (like within 10 minutes) etc. There would be less heat and less freezing cold. There would be more people.
I guess that's where Portland comes in. It was one of the few places I could think of that I'd visited before that had the potential to allow me to live the way I wanted to.
Now that I finally have a place to live, I feel like my schedule will be more in my control. Since I've been out here, every day has been so hectic, stressful, busy, disappointing, and over all, rather chaotic. Now I can work on actually setting up this life of mine to be the way that I want it to be.
I also now realize that while I might be physically alone out here at the moment, I'm certainly not lonely, and I have so many people supporting me and rooting for me to succeed. Frankly that feels good and it makes me feel loved and lucky to have met such awesome people in my life.
Naturally I thought about it as I drifted off, which took a looooong time since I was so excited about my new place (yay!). I don't think I got to sleep before 2am and then woke up again at 5:30am and couldn't get back to sleep. But back to the point. I realized that actually I don't feel so alone here. That was never the problem. I haven't felt lonely or homesick or isolated at all since coming here. I've been on my own and that feels good. So I think I'd edit my statement to say that in some way I'm more independent here than I've ever been.
Honestly I feel like last year I was more alone than I am now. Even when I was in Mexico, technically surrounded by family, I felt isolated and lonely a lot of the time. Oddly enough, I was happiest when I was on my own in San Miguel de Allende, and then when I was traveling with jesnie to Oaxaca.
When I got back home, I experienced a huge loss in my life. My dad passed away just a week after I got back. It was shocking to say the least. I'm still grateful that I came home when I did; that I had that last, great week with him before he was gone. But then everything was different, and for a while I separated myself from most of the important people in my life. I even distanced myself from my brothers for a while after they took some of their grief out on me in the form of criticism and judgment and trying to control what I would do with my life.
The months that followed were physically challenging for me as well. I got sick for the first time in December with a cold or flu or something. I remember I got one of the worst flues of my life that winter. From then on, I was either ill, or suffering from severe back pain. It wasn't the kind where I could take an advil and feel better. It was the kind where I could barely stand up long enough to feed the dogs. It was the kind where eventually standing, sitting, or lying down in any position was excruciating. The last bout of incapacitating back pain I had was just a few weeks before my scouting trip to Portland, sometime in April.
That whole time was really intense for me. Again, I was isolated; this not only from contact with people, but from the world. I couldn't really go anywhere or do anything. I still wasn't really communicating with most of my friends; my mom was going out of town every other week for various reasons. I was at home, often alone, and in pain, and also dealing with the huge loss of my dad.
The only things I could do was to ice my back and read. So I read a lot. I was drawn to read a lot of spiritual writings, and I found it fascinating. I'd get lost in the pages, reading so many ideas and thoughts that I myself had had in the past but hadn't been able to articulate. One book after another, I sat with ice on my back, a dog on my lap, and read. I think all those different spiritual theories and ideas really helped me deal with my father's death. It was comforting, eye opening, and enlightening. It was also incredibly personal, and it was something I knew I had to do on my own. I wasn't exactly lonely, but I was definitely alone. I needed to be alone. I needed that time to just sit in my house with my dogs curled up next to me to process the changes going on in my life and think about what kind of future I might want.
I think it was the experience in San Miguel, when I lived there for a month and didn't know anyone besides the friends I met along the way, that inspired the next step I would take. I really liked the feeling of setting my own schedule and not having to answer to anyone. I guess that independence is good for me. It makes me feel empowered and happy. I knew I wanted more of that in my life. I started thinking about the lifestyle I would like to live if I had the choice. I knew that lifestyle would include much less time sitting in a car in traffic. It would also include more activity, preferably worked into daily life--walking to the store or to meet up with friend, biking to work, having great hikes nearby (like within 10 minutes) etc. There would be less heat and less freezing cold. There would be more people.
I guess that's where Portland comes in. It was one of the few places I could think of that I'd visited before that had the potential to allow me to live the way I wanted to.
Now that I finally have a place to live, I feel like my schedule will be more in my control. Since I've been out here, every day has been so hectic, stressful, busy, disappointing, and over all, rather chaotic. Now I can work on actually setting up this life of mine to be the way that I want it to be.
I also now realize that while I might be physically alone out here at the moment, I'm certainly not lonely, and I have so many people supporting me and rooting for me to succeed. Frankly that feels good and it makes me feel loved and lucky to have met such awesome people in my life.