Same Perspective, New Attitude?

Considering today is Halloween and I am back/still in America, the only chance of a good day was Kansas City Chiefs pulling off a win. This is especially true after all four of our family teams lost yesterday, all but one in ugly fashion. It would be a waste of life spending time refreshing your memory, should you have forgotten my distaste for the nonsense of Halloween day-turned-month-long-holiday forced upon us by our consumeristic society.

Back to the importance of today: a Chiefs victory. I wasn't nervous, after all they were playing the Buffalo Bills, and M.L. was finally confident enough to pick them in his pool. The game came down to the final seconds of overtime, much to my chagrin. As a result of my geographic location the sole play witnessed from the game was a highlight of a touchdown by the Bills. My confidence has not been diminished. I am still holding to my 12-4 prediction for the Chiefs this year. A win is a win.

My spirits were so lifted by this overtime win I suggested the family carve our two pumpkins. Oh and after watching over three hours of the worst football of my life (Redskins/Lions anyone?) it was time to get off the couch. C.A.H. and I gutted, carved, and lit the candles.

We even posed for pictures with our finished products. Yesterday I made my mom's costume, today I painted C.A.H.'s face! Is this what they call the Halloween spirit? I even helped hand out the candy. Simply watching my mom panic about running out of candy was worth the hour of time I devoted. Who cares? Look at the childrens stuffed bags of candy they won't be allowed to consume as a result of the strict organic diet forced upon them by their parents and send them running to the next house. I'd make a good witch.

I must admit the children were pretty adorable and happy. The giggling, imitating witches, and all the smiles are contagious.

As I type I can smell the pumpkin seeds baking in the oven. Halloween, this year you were not all bad!

Skip Me

The guilt is already setting in for typing yet another depressing blog post and I haven't even really begun to type. I want to continue to write during this time of grieving because I hope to remember my Peace Corps service in full, and this is sadly a reality of my experience. The only expectations I had of my service were to experience my highest highs and lowest lows. Unfortunately, for me (and everyone involved) my lowest low came in the loss of a dear friend.

That being said I wish I could express to the world how much I miss my friend. The coversations, adventures, and everything else he brought into my life. I am not known for being particularly fond of the volunteers, but he was so incredibly different than all the rest. I admired the work he did, the confidence he carried himself with, and most of all his spirit. I knew he would be around in my life forever. That was one sappy sentence. He would want me to be happy. More so than ever I am envious of the lifestyle he pursued and as a person I want to embody those same ideas. If that is what I want, why can't I get there? Some days are good and I believe I am bouncing back, but even on my best days I still have no desire to do the simplest tasks. When I do pick up the phone to call my friends or touch base with anyone it seemingly fails. I just had one of the driest conversations with someone I would consider a close, if not my closest friend. We had NOTHING to talk about and eventually it got awkward enough I ended the conversation. Literally, no explanation. I don't even know what to say (to anyone, even my trusty computer). I have all these emotions of emptiness, lonliness, unhappiness running through my head... nothing is forming coherant thoughts.

A huge part of me must have been taken with the loss of T.C.M. and now it is as though NO ONE gets me. A lot of this is probably a figment of my imagination. There is a high chance my friend didn't think the conversation was dull at all. Well that is great minus the fact where it only makes me feel more insane.

What I want most is to get on with life--stop sitting around my parents house facebooking and acting worthless. At the same time I am scared about the new experiences both Ghana and Tanzania will provide, maybe not returning to Lesotho was a sign to 'give up' and find life fullfiling elsewhere. EXCEPT I have zero form of closure. T.C.M. and Lesotho are on my mind ALL the time. I don't want to be here, but I am not positive I want to be either of those places.

I am not sure what the leave date is for either country. To pass time I am considering taking a long weekend somewhere in the Northeast alone. A solo vacation has me a tad uneasy, but getting away to clear my thoughts could be healing in a different way. I remember all the time pre event I had in Lesotho to reflect on life. Too much, I'm sure. Here it's not like that, everyone thinks for me: my parents, my brothers, the counselor, PC staff, my friends. I know they want the best for me, though no one truly knows what that is.

I am sure the loss of T.C.M. is supposed to awaken some big self-discovery. How long till I find it? At the same time, believe me, I passed the phase of searching for answers. I'm sitting, waiting, wishing for forward motion to feel normal.

A few friends want me to come down to visit before I leave (again) and I think it would be healthy. I need to go, it's the right thing to do. I just don't want to go, only because I don't want to pretend! I literally have bounched from the couch to the computer all day. I did not even go outside to smell the crisp fall air. It's 11:09 PM and thinking about my hermit like behavior makes me a little nauseous... still even that does not bring enough motivation for tomorrow.

"In the book of life, the answers aren't always in the back" Charlie Brown

I have an amazing group of supporters. Everyone has stood by my side to teach, provide insight, inspiration, and impart wisdom. Friends and family have been patient and understanding. You have called to simply touch base, see if I need anything. Neighbors have brought an abundance of desserts. All the offers has been well intentioned and sadly exhausting. I haven't written (emailed) so many of you back because I can't muster up the courage, energy, or strength a half decent response would require. I am overwhelmed with your support and want you to know how much I am thankful for the wonderful people I have in my life. You have been over the top generous, please know how appreciative I am (though it may not seem that way). I know you don't know what to say, simply knowing you are there is perfect.

My least favorite statement throughout all of this has been, "Everything happens for a reason." I realize this statement probably brings so many comfort and comfort is what everyone is trying to provide. For me, it opens a huge can of worms... why? A question I will never know the answer too. You can wonder who played that role in a movie and quickly find your answer on the internet. Stomach aches can be pinned on something you ate for lunch, and headaches are often a result of stress. This is completely beyond that realm. As I try to ride this wave in order to move forward I continually endure the pain of an unanswered question, "Why, why, why... Him? Me? In Lesotho? On my dad's birthday?"

There are days where I am overcome with emotions, particularly when seeing the larger picture; I am alive. I have an amazing family, beautiful friends, and a strong family of Peace Corps friends who have stood behind me throughout this experience. I'm employed (with the best health care ever!!!) and have a shelter over my head no matter where I am (in Lesotho, a hotel in DC, and a house I am welcomed into by my parents in the suburbs). It is my job to get healthy, regardless of the amount of time this takes. This, I realize, is a tremendous luxury.

My thoughts aren't clear. I have memories I am prepared for and visions that totally throw me off, completely unexpected. When I do talk to friends, sometimes I feel like I talk incessantly about me, me, me. I hang up with disgust, feeling empty and lost. But you guys keep calling, regularly offering to visit or simply chat-it-up (as R.D.S. would say). Talk about a broken record, you guys are relentless. Your sympathy and support lifts my spirit. I will never be able to understand your tolerance. I am lagging in each conversation. My train of thought is up, down, all around.

I never wanted to experience the dark side of our society. The darkest part of society I knew was all those nonbelievers tossing recyclables into trash cans, allowing their children to fall to the waste side, and lacking compassion for a global world. I wish I knew what to say to all of you, nothing seems right. Thank you? I am sorry? You are my rocks. You have held me up, been fully behind me each step of the way. I'll get through this, and by that I mean we'll be back to saving the world when the time is right.

An extension of my emotions...

I can't pinpoint an emotion to describe the past couple of weeks. Relating to others pain, talking to my friends about life, having in depth converstaions with H.J.W. on where we go from here, and opening up to a complete stranger in counseling; it's all brand new. I can say everything else in life will probably seem like cake walk if I get through this, obviously I will... that goes without question. Time is working against me. I want to fast forward to a happier place, but I know if I do I won't ever truly heal. I need to go through this phase of bereavement in order to do basic tasks again: walk alone at night, not mistake loud noises for gunshots, feel comfortable being me.

The first phase of all of this was accepting T.C.M. is no longer here. I am still coping with that and imagine I will be for quite sometime. He will always be a part of my life, in a slightly different way than he was before. I prepared myself to hop on a plane this weekend bound for 16 more months in Lesotho when another curve ball was tossed my way. The heartbreaking news I am not returning and the fact it was not up for debate. Right when I was starting to feel more like myself, getting excited to call friends and bid them farewell (again), smiling about the simple pleasures in life, and ready to tackle to next challenge life had to offer. What is life without a few road blocks?

Instead of striking out and waiting for my next turn in the line-up I wanted to be benched. It would be easier to give up. I can make the best of the situation, but I'd rather throw a pity party for myself. My true character is/has been revealed in a mighty ugly way. I am beating myself up, yet see no other options.

The Verdict

Some lessons in life are harder than others. There are many reasons why I feel like I set my self up for failure in this one. My heart is in Lesotho. That might be hard to believe after reading some of the stories on my blog. I guarantee you, however, it's true. I made a promise to myself, the country and the people of Lesotho to dedicate 27 months of my life to creating what I hoped was a better future for the individuals of Lesotho. I was also encouraged by the sense of adventure and the numberous traits I learned about myself. In less than a minute all of that was taken away from me. In my 23 years on this planet I can honestly say it's been the hardest thing I have had to deal with. I don't feel like myself AT ALL. You can't put a timeline on the healing process, but geez after 40 plus days you think one would be up for a night on the town... or embracing all those American ways I claimed to miss so much. Each day gets easier with time. Right now, I really wish I could speed up time.

Yesterday I was medically cleared for Lesotho and was counting down my final three counseling sessions. I was feeling up to the challenge. I knew it wasn't going to be easy but I felt like Lesotho was where I belonged. My friends and family have been more supportive than I could have ever imagined. I never planned on coming home during my service. I thought it would make going back really difficult, but I consider myself a relatively strong person. I was forced to come home (and trust me, I do realize the importance of being at home) and still eager to go back, after all my fears I would never return.

Everything seemed to be lining up, no news seemed like good news. This morning I had a phonecall with the Country Director in Lesotho who broke the news to me, I would not be returning to Lesotho. Peace Corps does not feel confident in guaranteeing my safety during the remaining 16 months of service. I broke into tears. I sobbed like a basket case for the next two hours. I took a break in all the meetings and headed over to Starbucks for some coffee and alone time to process the news on this incredibly gloomy DC day... where I proceeded break down, again (in public, embarrassing story #904 since 09.03.10, especially for all of you who know how much I love emotions). I am heartbroken. I had plans with T.C.M. taken away. I coped (am coping), and now this is round two. The vacations I had planned (and deserve!!!) with my parents in November and friends in December are now simply dreams. I can't catch a break.

My counselor was right, I should have been more flexible. I put all my eggs in a basket; they all cracked. I felt like Lesotho was the right place for me at this time and now Lesotho is not even an option. Grad school doesn't sound right, looking for a job sounds terrible, going to a new country seems impossible. I am stuck in pause mode while watching all my friends and family live there lives. Obviously I want them to keep chugging along in the marathon on life, not being a part of it is what is killing me.

Music Heals

My friend made me a mix CD that was waiting for me when I walked in the door from Lesotho. Our taste in music is extremely different so I always looked forward to what her mix is composed of, typically it's happy girly music--exactly what the doctor ordered for this moment. Track number six is from the musical Next to Normal called "You Don't Know." The lyrics could not capture a better describition of my emotions.

Do you wake up in the morning and need help to lift your head?
Do you read obituaries and feel jealous of the dead?
It's like living on a cliffside not knowing when you'll dive.
Do you know, do you know what it's like to die alive?
When the world that once had color fades to white and gray and black.
When tomorrow terrifies you, but you'll die if you look back.

You don't know.
I know you don't know.
You say that you're hurting, it sure doesn't show.
You don't know.
You tell me let go.
And you may say so, but I say you don't know.

The sensation that you're screaming, but you never make a sound.
Or the feeling that you're falling, but you never hit the ground.
It just keeps on rushing at you day by day by day by day.
You don't know, you don't know what it's like to live that way.
Like a refugee, a fugitive, forever on the run.
If it gets me it will kill me, but I don't know what I've done.

Updated to add: A fellow PCV thinks these lyrics are horribly depressing, and reading over them I suppose they are. On the flip side the music to accompany these lyrics is incredibly upbeat. And they are heartbreakingly honest, real, uncoated, all ideas I am a huge fan of.