Every once in a while, I succumb to the nostalgia of living in England. I’ll be walking my dog, driving the car, taking a shower, cooking dinner, trying to fall asleep, and my brain will be like: “Here’s a flashback of you in this awesome place in London doing an awesome thing and being awesome” and my current self will sit in that nostalgia and feel really out of touch with that person who was in England.
What really gets me, is that I rarely have nostalgia about anything else- it’s always about being abroad.
When I first came back from study abroad, I actually went into a depression because I didn’t know how to go back to my “old life” because abroad had shaped me into a completely new person. I no longer wanted the things that I thought I wanted, I was no longer complacent in doing nothing, but I could not figure out what would make me just as happy here as what was making me just as happy abroad.
I tried for so long to think that if I surrounded myself with the people who I was with abroad then I would have the same experience here in the states. That was not true because I figured out later on that we were all having our own form of trials coming back from abroad and no two trials were alike.
I continued to try everything to try to rid of this depression and just be happy again.
I even started to run. RUN people, RUN!
(If you know me, you know I like to work out, but running is the last form of working out I would ever choose- well, until recently).
It wasn’t until I landed myself in therapy that I truly started to work through some of the emotions I was experiencing.
This was one of the most trying portions of my life (so far) and in the midst of it I could not see the light at the end of the tunnel, no matter how hard I tried to find a positive point, it was just not there.
I decided to write about this today, as my neighbor is blaring club music at 10AM, because this morning as I stuck my toast in the toaster and set off the fire alarm, I found myself in that nostalgic state again, wishing for England.
And yet, this time, I wasn’t as sad about it as I usually am. Rather, I was given the glimpse of the person I am today because of the strength that trial gave me.
I accept that I go through depressive points and that this is not something that is going to go away, but I stay true to believing that it won’t last forever (because I know).
I accept adventure- I thrive in it. Traveling, learning something new, immersing myself in new cultures- I thrive in it.
I accept that my feelings of connectedness to England were not based on just the country, but they are based on the fact that I discovered parts of myself I didn’t know were there and I will forever be grateful to England and the rest of my study abroad experience for that.
When my fiance first walked into my life and I knew he was going to be it, I remember stopping to give a side line to God: “Really God? A military man? Do you know how difficult this life is?”
But now I laugh when I think of that line, because God knew the exact life he was giving me. I now get to adventure all over with a man I absolutely love.
There will be trials and tribulations, but through it, I will remind myself to thrive in the adventure, because without it, what’s the point?