1 Girl + 2 Drinks = 3 Hours of Crying...

After an early dinner and drink with Oscar on Saturday night, I came home and cried my eyes out. And you're probably wondering what in the hell is wrong with me, which would be a valid question on your part. Well, I don't really know to be honest. I think it's sinking in that I'm gonna be here for 11 more months. And it totally freaked me out. I was bawling uncontrollaby. Big, bulging eyes. Heaving and nose-blowing. The whole bit. Why, you would've thought someone had died. But no. I was just thinking Oh my God, I'm having a breakdown. This is it. I felt really sad all of a sudden. I'm in a strange land where I don't speak the language (yet), I don't have many friends, and nothing is familiar. I won't go so far as to the say the thrill has worn off. I'm definitely still excited to be here, but I am missing home. I am homesick for my family and friends mostly. Even though, it's nice because I talk to some of my friends now more than ever! Which is awesome...I miss physical human contact. Yes, damnit, maybe I need a hug. I miss the familiarity of my old world. That's the best reason I can give as to why I was deluged with emotion late last night. I was also a little tipsy which certainly does not alleviate those emotions. So, I talked to my friend Darren, whose been here a little bit longer than I have. He went through the same thing and I guess everyone does. I'm not doubting my decision to come here. It's what I've wanted to do. But I am struggling with the here and now, being able to enjoy what's right in front of me. I'm so used to overplanning for the future. My mind functions like that. "This time next year, where will I be? What will I be doing? instead of "Right now, I'm going to..." My brain is essentially crowded. And I haven't figured out how to let it go. Also, I think I have a bit of an anxiety disorder. Through my own self-diagnosis (thank you WebMD), I have GAD (Generalized Anxiety Disorder) where I tend to worry about things that I absolutely cannot control i.e. completely unproductive worrying. I don't have the kind of worry that spurs people to action. No no...mine is pointless. And you would think that realizing how utterly useless this worry is would make me stop worrying. But in fact, it makes me worry even more.

Here's a prime example - I emailed my friend Toya about 3 weeks ago. I know she's busy with grad school and what have you. It slipped her mind. It happens. But after about week 2, my mind started to create scenarios of why she hadn't written back. I was thinking that something was wrong. She's in a ditch and needs help. She's died and no one called to let me know. Oh my God, they can't get ahold of me...and she's dying. She's been murdered. I just know it. I work myself all up about it. She finally did email me back and of course, she'd been buried under work. Not buried under some dirt on I-95. But that is what my overimaginative brain does. I also had a similar episode when I couldn't reach Jonathan. I was literally going to contact his brothers and find out where he was. And then he emailed me saying how sorry he was for making me worry and that he'd been crazy busy at work, etc. But I thought someone had killed him....and no one had told me. He lives in Philly..,crime is terrible in Philly...people go missing all the time...maybe he's missing....maybe the police are looking for him and can't find him. That's my logic, my fractured logic. This happens to me all the time, with anyone I'm close to. It used to happen constantly when I was living in NJ with Ash and my brother, too. When he used to stay out late partying and hanging out, there'd be times when he'd fall asleep on the subway and just ride it all night long. It would scare me to death. So anytime he'd be out late, past midnight, I'd text him or call to make sure he was okay and couldn't go to sleep until he got back to me. If he took too long getting back to me, I'd call his friends to find out where he was and if he was okay.

I can't pinpoint exactly when this started happening to me. After September 11th? Maybe. I'm sure it's more a product of the media than anything. All those stories about kidnapped babies and people who go missing only to turn up dead a week later. Now I understand why my Mom and Dad always said to call when I got someplace. "Call me when you get there.." they'd say. I'd be thinking "yeah yeah yeah....I'll call..." But sometimes I wouldn't call. In the midst of all the fun I was having, I'd forget to call home and I didn't think it was a big deal. But now I see why it is a big deal. People who love you need to know if you're okay. And now I'm the same way. And I feel bad for my future kids, too. I can only imagine the kind of hovering, paranoid, overanxious mother they're gonna get. If my kids decided to pick up and move across the world, well I just might be going with them. I give my parents a lot of credit for being okay with this.

After all that boo-hooing last night, today I went outside walking at my favorite park. It was a beautiful fall day and I thought "Wow, it's Fall and I'm in Korea...." Fresh air has a way of doing that. And I got a few waves and hellos from people, too. Overall it was a pretty good day. For once I didn't think about the future or grad school or getting a job once I get back home or the kind of person I want to be when I grow up. I know the kind of person I want to be right now - one who can stop and smell the kimchi.

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