So September,
We meet again.
I have been doing this writing-a-letter-to-every-month thing for a year now.
It started one year ago, spontaneously, as a desperate way to try to describe and get out how I was feeling, when I felt very misplaced, confused, anxious, upset, not happy with where I was, and I wasn't about to be satisfied with what I thought I wanted.
I remember the feeling of last summer very well; I was desperate to get out. Nothing had been going right or well for months. I finally got back to Idaho, my beloved Idaho, and things felt kinda weird but really good. I was happy to finally be in where I thought my happy place was. But little did I know that I was starting the school year from hell.
My anxiety wasn't fixed by being in my "happy place." It was momentarily subsided, and then came back with a vengeance (It's all easier to see this in hindsight) By November I was in it. Crying in bathroom stalls before having to go to work, or class, or home. Basically on the verge on an anxiety attack 24/7.
Finally, (months later), I figured it out. I picked my life up enough to barely pass my classes and move home and get some anxiety medication (bless the heavens), and then to move to Mexico to figure out my life even more.
Man, did that all help.
I know this first-of-the-month letter is supposed to be looking to the future but bear with me a moment.
A year ago, I thought being "home" would help me fix my problems. I didn't know what home was or where I really belonged. But I'm here to report that now, in September 2019, I'm figuring it out.
And it feels good.
September, I'm excited and scared for you all at once.
Excited for the crisp fall air (yes I know I just said I'd miss the heat in my response to August but leave me alone). I'm excited to go to pumpkin patches and pick apples and do all things fall. I'm excited to see how I am in school now that I have my medication. I'm excited to make more friends and (hopefully) meet new boys.
I'm scared for school all at the same time though. What if I still hate it? What if I'm still burnt out and I can't get through it?
I'm here to remind myself that I have options. I'm here to remind myself that I can change my mind. I'm here to remind myself that I can do anything. I'm here to remind myself that I did get through everything.
I've got this, September.
Thursday, August 29, 2019
August, pt. ii
August,
You were a blended month. I started you in Mexico and ended you in the United States.
I miss Mexico, but not like I thought I would. It feels like a dream, and almost like I didn't even say goodbye. But on occasion, I see a little boy who reminds me of Sebastian or a little girl who reminds me of Valeria, or María Paz, or Victoria, or Benjamin, or Juan Paolo, or Josue, and I get a little teary-eyed. Or I watch a video of my kids and it all becomes real too fast, like a pinch - the dream wasn't a dream; it was real - and you miss it.
Returning home was kind of a whirlwind of *wow all of my friends are (coming) home from their missions and is this high school? but no it's not we're just older now.* I have been anxiously awaiting the day that I would have my friends back, and that day has come. It's different than I imagined, but mostly because I'm different. I changed a lot in Mexico. I'm glad to have these friends home; it feels so natural being around them, but I expected our friendships to go back to what they were like in high school, but we're different now. And that's a good thing. We don't need to be as attached to one another as we were then. We don't need each other in the same way I believe we (I) did then. We've grown up. We(I)'ve moved on, ready to keep on goin'.
It's strange, knowing the way I imagined it would be and seeing the way it turned out; I wouldn't change a thing.
I overcame things in August. I faced fears (seeing a returned ex, going hiking for a date,...). Something clicked in me this summer that I hope I hold onto.
As summer comes to an end, I'm not ready to lose my first-ever tan (thank you, Mexico) and I'm not quite ready to face the brittle Idaho winter, but I'm ready to see how what I have learned this summer affects my daily life in a normal way.
So thank you, August.
You were a blended month. I started you in Mexico and ended you in the United States.
I miss Mexico, but not like I thought I would. It feels like a dream, and almost like I didn't even say goodbye. But on occasion, I see a little boy who reminds me of Sebastian or a little girl who reminds me of Valeria, or María Paz, or Victoria, or Benjamin, or Juan Paolo, or Josue, and I get a little teary-eyed. Or I watch a video of my kids and it all becomes real too fast, like a pinch - the dream wasn't a dream; it was real - and you miss it.
Returning home was kind of a whirlwind of *wow all of my friends are (coming) home from their missions and is this high school? but no it's not we're just older now.* I have been anxiously awaiting the day that I would have my friends back, and that day has come. It's different than I imagined, but mostly because I'm different. I changed a lot in Mexico. I'm glad to have these friends home; it feels so natural being around them, but I expected our friendships to go back to what they were like in high school, but we're different now. And that's a good thing. We don't need to be as attached to one another as we were then. We don't need each other in the same way I believe we (I) did then. We've grown up. We(I)'ve moved on, ready to keep on goin'.
It's strange, knowing the way I imagined it would be and seeing the way it turned out; I wouldn't change a thing.
I overcame things in August. I faced fears (seeing a returned ex, going hiking for a date,...). Something clicked in me this summer that I hope I hold onto.
As summer comes to an end, I'm not ready to lose my first-ever tan (thank you, Mexico) and I'm not quite ready to face the brittle Idaho winter, but I'm ready to see how what I have learned this summer affects my daily life in a normal way.
So thank you, August.
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