Rain, rain, rain, rain, rain. I assure you, we get the point already.
No one seems to be reading this anymore, which is just as well because I haven't been writing much.
Anyway.
It's been a month less a day since I returned to Canada, and a month and a half since I left Australia. I'm still craving normalcy. It's not happening nearly as often as I need it to be. Who knew that six little months would be causing all this madness? I've never been manic depressive, but I imagine this might be what it feels like... although to a much lesser extent; I certainly don't mean to downplay what that must be like for someone to go through. Happy, sad, happy, sad. Angry, confused, tired, overwhelmed. Joyful, delighted, stimulated, expectant.
After much thought, I have decided that I should consider seeing a counselor, and I will, as long as I can convince myself that it's ok that I can't figure out how to deal with this on my own.
Dear Sara's Massive Ego: Which is worse, admitting you need help, or failing all of your classes and feeling like a perma-PMS nutcase?
It's okay to feel alone. It's okay to be not strong. Once in a while.
Thank you, Mr Dryfhout. You always seem to have a way with difficult words.
Question: Why is it that we are taught to fear and hide our weaknesses?
Lonely, lonely, that is me. - Leslie Feist.
In a room full of people, sometimes I still feel like I'm alone, not for want of bodies or noise, but for someone who gets it. And that people don't get it, is not their fault.
The words of a friend and fellow blogger clutched at my heart recently, not because I understand (and really, that is the problem), but because I understand what it's like, to see to live, to feel, to reprioritize, to be changed, and then to return and not be able to share. Words suck, and words only go so far in being able to describe the way a heart changes, the way one is impacted a million miles away from everything they consider normal.
I love my family and I love my friends and I love God. I am so thankful for the way that he used my time overseas to change me, to show me new facets of his incredible love. I have to reiterate that I wouldn't change a thing, and I' m not angry. Just feeling isolated despite including myself and being included. Such a paradigm. Still not entirely sure how to feel.
No one seems to be reading this anymore, which is just as well because I haven't been writing much.
Anyway.
It's been a month less a day since I returned to Canada, and a month and a half since I left Australia. I'm still craving normalcy. It's not happening nearly as often as I need it to be. Who knew that six little months would be causing all this madness? I've never been manic depressive, but I imagine this might be what it feels like... although to a much lesser extent; I certainly don't mean to downplay what that must be like for someone to go through. Happy, sad, happy, sad. Angry, confused, tired, overwhelmed. Joyful, delighted, stimulated, expectant.
After much thought, I have decided that I should consider seeing a counselor, and I will, as long as I can convince myself that it's ok that I can't figure out how to deal with this on my own.
Dear Sara's Massive Ego: Which is worse, admitting you need help, or failing all of your classes and feeling like a perma-PMS nutcase?
It's okay to feel alone. It's okay to be not strong. Once in a while.
Thank you, Mr Dryfhout. You always seem to have a way with difficult words.
Question: Why is it that we are taught to fear and hide our weaknesses?
Lonely, lonely, that is me. - Leslie Feist.
In a room full of people, sometimes I still feel like I'm alone, not for want of bodies or noise, but for someone who gets it. And that people don't get it, is not their fault.
The words of a friend and fellow blogger clutched at my heart recently, not because I understand (and really, that is the problem), but because I understand what it's like, to see to live, to feel, to reprioritize, to be changed, and then to return and not be able to share. Words suck, and words only go so far in being able to describe the way a heart changes, the way one is impacted a million miles away from everything they consider normal.
I love my family and I love my friends and I love God. I am so thankful for the way that he used my time overseas to change me, to show me new facets of his incredible love. I have to reiterate that I wouldn't change a thing, and I' m not angry. Just feeling isolated despite including myself and being included. Such a paradigm. Still not entirely sure how to feel.
posted by Sara at
11:32 p.m.
