I cried for an hour straight last night. I haven’t done that since my father died.
You’re probably wondering what the girl who just traveled the world for an entire year has to cry about.
Don’t worry, I get annoyed with myself sometimes too.
But Thomas Wolfe was right, you can’t go home again. And there’s also a lot you don’t know. That’s the thing about social media, right? People only share the good?
I’ve been back in Memphis for seven weeks, and it still feels weird. I wander around my house, shuffling from room to room, sitting in different chairs, playing with my dogs, changing clothes, actively searching for familiarity – but not finding it.
This year abroad cemented in my mind that Memphis is where I wanted to be. I literally daydreamed of home while on nirvanic beaches in Southeast Asia. All I wanted was to curl up in my kitchen nook with tea, my pups, and a book – my happy place during times of darkness. I longed for my friends, family, and community.
But now that I’m here, I’m frozen. Most days I get up and go through the motions of what I think a human does. It’s like I have forgotten how to be me or who I was before Remote Year.
I don’t feel different as a person, more like a foreigner in her hometown…but people keep telling me I’ve changed. So I suppose I’ve changed more than you can imagine and I haven’t changed at all.
While friends ask what my favorite country was or what is the craziest thing I did all year, all I can do is shrug. I don’t know how to answer, and it is not because I’m annoyed with the question – I’m numb. Or perhaps I’m in shock.
…and, yes, this is the end of this blog post because I don’t know what else to say. I never know what to say about this past year.