Back home and some musing
So we got back from Spain on Friday. It's very nice to be home- while I know I was lucky to be in Spain, and I did learn a lot and have good experiences, the trip overall was not a great one and I'm sorta glad it's over. I didn't make close friendships like I did in London, and I didn't gain a big affection for the city. I also didn't feel like I improved my ability to be independent- I mostly got up, went to school, came home, went on the computer, and ate with my family, which didn't really feel much like a family, either. It was just... very strange. And it's weird to think that that was just three months of my life, and it feels at once like I was only gone for a few days and also like I was gone for ages.
In any case, I've settled back home and I've been to both my mom and dad's houses, re-bonded with the pets, and been lovingly re-introduced to American food. It's funny how easy it is to fall back into old routines.
The flight home was kind of crappy, though we were pretty lucky. We left really early from our apartments, mostly cause I was worried about getting through security, but the Granada airport is so small and the lines were really short, so we got through with an hour before our flight, even after waiting for ages cause the people in front of us had problems checking in. The main problem started when we were on the plane to Madrid- we left half an hour late, which doesn't really sound like that big a deal, but our layover in Madrid was really short- only about an hour five minutes, and we lost a good chunk of that cause of being late leaving. So we get to Madrid and run to the board to see where we have to go- all the way on the other side of the airport, of course. Thus begins twenty minutes straight of running across an airport with a heavy-ass backpack. By the time I got to my terminal I was panting and more hobbling than running or walking. The good news is that we made our plane, though some of my program-mates didn't (they did end up getting home fine, however). The flight itself was kind of shitty, being about 8/9 hours, but I took my dramamine and I was GREAT. Did not get sick at all, thank GOD. (After getting home from London I was sick as a dog XD) I just kinda sat there for 9 hours, staring rather dopily in front of me, buzzing along and just sort of riding it out. It sucked, not eating for 14 hours straight, but it paid off, and I ended up getting home before 10 PM because traffic out of New York was excellent.
Now that I'm back home, however, I'm starting to feel a little restless again. I'm trying to get back to writing, which I have been doing the whole time I was gone, but I'm dealing with a bout of block right now, and it's rather frustrating. I'm feeling really doubtful of my story (though I know this will pass), and my writing skills, and about whether I'm ever going to get anywhere with writing in the future (this is also a cyclical feeling). The reason why these feelings are being particularly awful right now, though, is because I'm feeling a little lost in terms of the future. I haven't been studying my languages as much as I should be, and I'm also not writing anything original, so both of my avenues for the future are stalled, and as much as I worry and get depressed over it, I feel like I can't change my habits and make myself do anything to better myself.
On top of all this, I'm feeling really down about Sherlock and John, which is just the normal tune of things by now, isn't it? Just like I haven't been studying, I also haven't been spending much time with them, and again, I can't seem to change what I do and fix it. It's disgusting. I can't help but feel like giving up on working with them, like this is never going to get anywhere and it's a waste of time and how I'm horrible because the only time I pay attention to them anymore is when I wanna be sexual, and I'm just feeling horrible and selfish.
It's bizarre. I really do think that they're "there", in some way- like I don't quite feel like a singlet again, and I know that even recently I've had some amazing developments with them: a couple weeks ago, I was talking to someone on skype (about tulpas), and I suddenly had this very strong feeling, like something coming up behind my mouth, as strange as that sounds. Like, when Sherlock or John want to say something on chat, I usually feel this little prick of a thought in my mind and I translate that into words and type them. Sometimes I legit hear words, though that's less common. This time it was almost as if I could feel myself start to speak, but it wasn't me making the words. It didn't end up actually coming out, but it was cool and scary at the same time, and it's happened a few times since then. The main problem is that, since I'm not really sure if/how my voice is going to change from them using it, they've never actually spoken through me, I've just felt the impetus.
So, like. It's not hopeless. I try to tell myself that. But at the same time I feel so utterly hopeless as a person cause I can't force myself to do anything I need or want to do, and I just keep spending all my time in front of the computer. I don't know what to do. I hope this changes soon.
In any case, I've settled back home and I've been to both my mom and dad's houses, re-bonded with the pets, and been lovingly re-introduced to American food. It's funny how easy it is to fall back into old routines.
The flight home was kind of crappy, though we were pretty lucky. We left really early from our apartments, mostly cause I was worried about getting through security, but the Granada airport is so small and the lines were really short, so we got through with an hour before our flight, even after waiting for ages cause the people in front of us had problems checking in. The main problem started when we were on the plane to Madrid- we left half an hour late, which doesn't really sound like that big a deal, but our layover in Madrid was really short- only about an hour five minutes, and we lost a good chunk of that cause of being late leaving. So we get to Madrid and run to the board to see where we have to go- all the way on the other side of the airport, of course. Thus begins twenty minutes straight of running across an airport with a heavy-ass backpack. By the time I got to my terminal I was panting and more hobbling than running or walking. The good news is that we made our plane, though some of my program-mates didn't (they did end up getting home fine, however). The flight itself was kind of shitty, being about 8/9 hours, but I took my dramamine and I was GREAT. Did not get sick at all, thank GOD. (After getting home from London I was sick as a dog XD) I just kinda sat there for 9 hours, staring rather dopily in front of me, buzzing along and just sort of riding it out. It sucked, not eating for 14 hours straight, but it paid off, and I ended up getting home before 10 PM because traffic out of New York was excellent.
Now that I'm back home, however, I'm starting to feel a little restless again. I'm trying to get back to writing, which I have been doing the whole time I was gone, but I'm dealing with a bout of block right now, and it's rather frustrating. I'm feeling really doubtful of my story (though I know this will pass), and my writing skills, and about whether I'm ever going to get anywhere with writing in the future (this is also a cyclical feeling). The reason why these feelings are being particularly awful right now, though, is because I'm feeling a little lost in terms of the future. I haven't been studying my languages as much as I should be, and I'm also not writing anything original, so both of my avenues for the future are stalled, and as much as I worry and get depressed over it, I feel like I can't change my habits and make myself do anything to better myself.
On top of all this, I'm feeling really down about Sherlock and John, which is just the normal tune of things by now, isn't it? Just like I haven't been studying, I also haven't been spending much time with them, and again, I can't seem to change what I do and fix it. It's disgusting. I can't help but feel like giving up on working with them, like this is never going to get anywhere and it's a waste of time and how I'm horrible because the only time I pay attention to them anymore is when I wanna be sexual, and I'm just feeling horrible and selfish.
It's bizarre. I really do think that they're "there", in some way- like I don't quite feel like a singlet again, and I know that even recently I've had some amazing developments with them: a couple weeks ago, I was talking to someone on skype (about tulpas), and I suddenly had this very strong feeling, like something coming up behind my mouth, as strange as that sounds. Like, when Sherlock or John want to say something on chat, I usually feel this little prick of a thought in my mind and I translate that into words and type them. Sometimes I legit hear words, though that's less common. This time it was almost as if I could feel myself start to speak, but it wasn't me making the words. It didn't end up actually coming out, but it was cool and scary at the same time, and it's happened a few times since then. The main problem is that, since I'm not really sure if/how my voice is going to change from them using it, they've never actually spoken through me, I've just felt the impetus.
So, like. It's not hopeless. I try to tell myself that. But at the same time I feel so utterly hopeless as a person cause I can't force myself to do anything I need or want to do, and I just keep spending all my time in front of the computer. I don't know what to do. I hope this changes soon.