Yesterday afternoon my mood dropped to epic lows. It wasn't just sadness, no, it was irritability, frustration, pent up anxiety, exhaustion, and a general feeling of being overwhelmed. Maybe it was the 9 hours spent in the tiny backseat of a minivan driving through America's heartland with six people. Maybe it's because I don't have as much control over my life as I once did and I can't imagine AT ALL what my life will look like tomorrow, next week or next month, say nothing about next year. Coming to terms with my decision has been harder than I thought it would be.
When I started MTTP in July, I was more ready to move than I am now. Everyone had moved away. All I did was go to class and come home or go out with MTTP people who I knew from the get go were leaving in a set amount of time, so I didn't get too attached to them. I was running down the road to my future with blinders on, giddy with the possibilities. Since then, I have reconnected with people, become severly attached to those people, places, ideas, events. Besides having a job that I dread going to and not having a guy in my life, I am doing so well. And those two downsides are the standard, the norm, so I try not to tally those in the final score anyway.
This morning was the U2 Eucharist at church. Basically that means that the service was comprised of U2 songs, a sermon and communion. It was very very good. I mean, Trinity isn't the most 'up to speed' church out there (I know that for certian now, after seeing the church in Kansas City), but we try so hard. We had a great band and vocalists and an amazing pastor today. That's what matters. Amanda spoke of when she and her husband lived in Guatamala for a year and how she got sick from the water after a couple months and when she went to the doctor, she found out she was pregnant so she couldn't take any of the medication. She tied this in to the 'one campaign' by showing us the privalige we all have. She knew that because she was a US citizen, she could leave at any time and recieve the best medical care in the world. Because she is who she is, she stuck it out and stayed to finish serving, but returned to the US to have her son, Zane. During the offeratory, Julie (choir director) sang "Yahweh", with Bill (guy who went on the roadtrip this week) accompaning on guitar and back up vocals. I lost it. I just started crying because the song was so pretty and I am generally on the verge of tears everyday now anyway. This marks the VERY first time I cried in church, during a service that wasn't for someone's death. After the service, I got great hugs from people I really love, was encouraged by people's advice and sincere well wishes for my future and I felt goooood about life. I was secure in my decision, confident that I could make it, ready to go.
Right now, I am riding out a trough in mood and confidence again. I swear it comes with the setting of the sun (and lack of communication via internet, phone or in person). Going to bed early might help, but I just distract myself until the wee hours of the morning when I have no choice but to sleep. Otherwise I get myself worked up and I make rash decisions. Those are nothing but trouble.
I have promised myself that I WILL NOT start missing people before I leave. I always do that, and then when I leave I am already over it. But! Then I wasted all that time with the people that I was already mourning, being a dumb ass and not enjoying myself. So now, I am going to put my best denial skills to work, and just plow forward with my horse blinders on. I will save the ugly cry for the strangers sharing my 18 hours of flying. At least I have goals, right?
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You know...if you're crying on the plane think of this story and remember that it could always be worse:
On my flight back to CA after Christin's wedding I was bawling my eyes out. When my hair set of the metal detector I'm pretty sure the TSA thought I was a terrorist, bawling because her life was about to end. At least....at least you're not a terrorist.
Okay...that probably didn't help.
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