welcome home
I got home from the DR on New Year’s Eve. My eyes tear up every time I think about being here instead of there. The vacation was lovely. The island felt like a mini paradise. The people were beautiful and kind and happy. My first night back, I laid in bed and cried. Today, I drove my car to the bookstore and cried. As I write this, I am crying. Is it about the trip? Or is it about coming home to MN, to a job that I already (even though it terrifies me to admit it) feel trapped in? When I was in bed last night, I googled why do I always feel so depressed after vacation? The internet told me it could be because my dopamine levels are depleted once I come home. It reminded me of what people say about the day after taking ecstasy. The anniversary of my dad’s death is looming and that historically casts a weight on my mood.
I always try to find out why I am feeling what I am feeling. I want to find a solution, to move past it, be done with it. But I do not know why I am feeling this low right now. I do not know if it’s because I am sad that I will never know what becomes of Jose the security guard or Elian the diver. I will never see the woman who called me mi amor when I ordered coffee and I will never talk with our retired neighbors. Instead I am here. Which is not bad. I have candles lit and my dog next to me and a good paying job to go to tomorrow. But why do I still feel so sad? I do not want to be discontent forever. I am nervous there is something wrong with me.
On vacation, I dreamt that some situation popped up where I legitamitely couldn’t return to work - the relief that washed over my body was immediate. I woke up feeling claustrophobic - and also scared of my claustrophobia because impulsive tendencies arise when it is present.
I know my job isn’t forever, and I feel okay with the fact that it is a stepping stone for me. In the moments of feeling boxed in, I remind myself that I could quit if I wanted. Today or tomorrow or in a year. This is not permanent. I am free to leave.
Going out of the country, to a place that is so different than the US reignited my desire to live abroad again. I do not know when or where that will be. Historically, I am not always a patient person. When I want something, there’s a part of me that needs it immediately for it to be worth while. A voice that says it will only count if you live abroad in your 20s, it won’t be worth it in your thirties, forties, etc. Now or nothing. I know that I cannot move to a new country right now, for many reasons. But something I have decided on is that I’m going to start studying Spanish again. Speaking the language in the Dominican reminded me of why I studied it for so long in school. Doing it again will give me something to look forward to, a way to keep my goal of living somewhere else relevant. Similar to this journal, it provides a sense of orientation to my life. I am a better person when I have a goal.