This isn’t culture shock: this can’t be culture shock. I still don’t feel like I’ve been introduced back to the American culture yet. But I’m feeling so crappy right now. I don’t know if I’ll be able to explain it, but here goes:
I have spent every waking second completely immersed in people for the past 100 days. In South Africa, you have to make a conscious effort to get away from people, and sometimes you still can’t. It can be difficult for people who need alone time (such as myself), but it can be nice too. It’s a safety blanket, a protection against your thoughts and your feelings. The best way to not deal with your feelings? Never think about them. And it’s easy not to think about them when the only “alone” time you have is driving from one place to another with the headphones in.
So that’s been my life for the past 3 and a half months. And I loved it, because it was nice for me. I’ve always been in touch with my emotions, so it’s nice to not have to worry about it. The problem is, that’s not reality. I will not be able to live my life constantly surrounded by people. It’s fake, and I would do a pretty horrible job at it. So not only am I coming from this perfect world where I loved everything, but now I have to deal with my emotions from the trip. Not only do I have to deal with missing people I’ve seen every day (There are many people I saw literally every day but 2), but I have to deal with the other crap that accumulated during the trip, and the stuff leftover from before. And trust me, I have plenty of that stuff. So as I sit here, I’m thinking about how nice it would be to have someone come over, or to ask how I’m doing. Because I feel lonely and inconsequential, shoved to the side while the Azusites continue their lives. They’ve been living without me for 4 months, why should they pretend like I’m here now?
But the people I rely on are gone. The people I would go to are either back at home, or still in Africa, or busy doing something with their families or friends or a girl. They’re all doing something more important than talking to me.
And I can’t let them know how I’m feeling, because while I really want someone to talk to, the last thing I need is someone to talk to. And the last thing I want is for someone to drop whatever they’re doing just to talk to me. I mean, I probably would get self-conscious halfway through whatever I was talking about, and think it’s not a legitimate problem. I would feel bad that I was doing all the talking, and start asking about their problems (and the way things have been going lately, I would probably let them dump all their shit on me and walk away even heavier than before). I would downplay that something’s wrong, because I’m supposed to be perfect and invincible, and I don’t feel pain. Or I would break down and cry, and end up embarrassed in front of everyone in the world except for two specific people.
And I don’t even think I need someone. I think talking about this would make me feel better now, only to have the same problem in a week. This isn’t the type of thing that you just vent about and it goes away; this is the type of thing that you explore the root of the problem. Because I don’t want this summer to be plagued by long nights of feeling worthless because I haven’t spent time with anyone. I don’t want to feel insignificant just because I haven’t done anything substantial for a day.
I just feel lonely. In the airport in South Africa, I said goodbye to 8 people who I love dearly and already miss greatly. I cried in that very airport after saying goodbye. And then, when we got to LAX, I said goodbye to almost everyone else on the trip. I still had Logan, the person who I had spent most every day of the last 100 with. So I spent all day with him and saw old friends and it was great. And the next day as well. But then I started saying goodbye to the people who I missed for a semester, as they leave for the summer. And then I said goodbye to Brad. And then I said goodbye to Logan, and then I said goodbye to Jonathon. And now, I’m sitting here, and everyone who I would spend time with is gone or busy. And I’m forced to dwell in loneliness for the first time in months. I forgot how horrible it is.
Is it culture shock? It may be. It may be a little bit, but I think it’s about leaving South Africa. I think it’s about leaving a situation living in such close proximity with people who know you so well. And now I’m heading home. We’ll see how this summer goes. But right now, I’m not too hopeful. I’m definitely anticipating some lonely nights of staying up until 3 after wasting the day, and fearing going to bed. Because if I go to bed and I don’t do anything, did I even live that day? Is it a wasted day, or does it just cease to exist? If I interact with no one for a day, then did I survive the day? This is what I deal with in the summer, and I feel like the answer is no. Because I subscribe to the South African belief of Ubuntu, which is along the lines of finding ourselves through community. Existing through relationships.
I’m sorry. I’m lonely, so I’m rambling. If I make a significant blog post today, then maybe I existed. Maybe I’m turning my blog into the late night salvation of my day. Maybe I just need to let it go.
But this whole South Africa to America thing? It’s tough. I feel lonely, misplaced, and not at home at all. I’m excited to get home, but what if that isn’t home? What if the home I’ve been anticipating returning to for months turns out to be less than the home I left just days ago? Where does that leave me? And what do I do?
It’s nights like these that make me scared for when I’m an RA. I need to figure this out. And soon.
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