Homesickness: A Confession

Recently, I've been finding myself wanting to escape where I am.

I've stayed up late into night, combing through endless Internet searches about other jobs in other countries, masters programs, and a volunteer opportunities abroad. The clock on my phone reminds me that I should sleep, but even as my body relaxes, my mind continues twisting, turning, and mulling over ideas as undefined and intangible as the darkness outside my window. Throughout the past two weeks, I have critically questioned myself, my decision, and my place here in Chile. Of course doubt is natural, but this doubt has planted its roots firmly and festered. The question isn't just why I am doubting, but why I can't move beyond it.

I believe that it's because the idea of the indefinite scares me. When I went to college, I knew that I would graduate in four years, and when I lived in India, I counted on returning at the end of the semester. I signed my contract with Galesburg High School with no doubt that Ms. Frau would one day reclaim her name above the classroom door. But when I came to Chile, all I knew was that I was going to travel for some amount of time in some amount of places that weren't the U.S. Being here in Santiago is not a means to an end or the end in and of itself. It simply is. I'm simply here.

I never have had to say that I've felt homesick before. Not like this. After all, I had always bought my plane tickets round trip. Every Wednesday night as I boil yet another bag of pasta, I imagine the family dinner that I have missed yet again, and I know that I will miss many more to come. Two days ago, I sent out a text telling people it would be my birthday on Saturday. If I didn't, no one would have known, and that would have been depressing. There is only one thing worse than being surrounded by a roomful of people singing "Happy Birthday": blowing out the candles on a cake you bought yourself. Pity party of one, please.

Without a return date, being gone seems a lot more permanent.

I made a conscious choice to cross a boundary, and now I'm struggling because I can't find any lines showing me where I should be, where I should go from here. Although writing this post feels more like a confession than an update, it is a natural part of my experience here, and I feel like it's a necessary post to write. Welcome to living in a place that isn't home.

Think you may be suffering from homesickness also? Symptoms include, but are not limited to:

• Frantically searching for escape routes and/or back-up plans that will further confirm the fact that you, without a doubt, made the wrong decision.
• Perpetual cravings for comfort foods, not the least of which includes real coffee and fried pickles (not recommended at the same time, but I respect all life choices). An alternative side effect may be the occasional pang for Indian spices when, once again, your egg sandwich seems a little lack luster.
• Chronic convictions that this is not where you will end up, nor is it the best step to get you there. Where is your classroom full of sassy teenagers? Why aren't you teaching poetry, literature, grammar, or "real" English?
• Frequent social indulgences on Skype, Facetime, and Facebook. Your past life is at your fingertips, and there's nothing like #fbstalking to keep you up to date.
• Keeping the door to your room closed, even though you know 8:30 is wayyy too early to go to sleep. Sure you can turn off the lights, but once your roommates know you have a Netflix account, you lose the ability to fool anyone.

I was reluctant to write this post. After all, it's hard to be a world traveller whose heart is a hemisphere away. I'm supposed to write about the adventures I've had since bravely taking on the world. I'm supposed to write all about the new and exciting people I've met and how much fun we're having every single day. Spoiler alert: living abroad is still living a life, and that includes boredom and loneliness.

But homesickness is part of the experience of traveling, and to say anything otherwise would seem disingenuous. I am lucky to have family and friends who are worth missing, and one day, I will be happy to see them again. I didn't leave Galesburg or Florida because I was unhappy. I left because the world is a big place, and I can't see it all from a classroom in a small town.

These past couple of weeks, I have felt trapped in a past choice for the foreseeable future. It wasn't even a bad choice: simply something that I was locked into and left me with little sense of agency. It's time for me to reclaim a sense of control. It's time for me to find my cure.

Homesickness: A Cure (Yes, this blog just became self referential)