I won’t lie. It’s been a rough week. I totally underestimated the emotional impact of leaving my kids and those delicious grand babies. Expatriating has been much harder than I anticipated. No one is more surprised by this than I – except maybe (poor) Mack.
“You are the strongest person I know. What’s going on?” He questioned, when I refused to get out of bed on Friday (which, coincidentally, was my 64th birthday. That doesn’t take a rocket scientist). He didn’t understand the change, after 44 years of pretty stoic behavior in sometimes difficult situations. I didn’t understand it either.
So, here’s how every morning of Week #1 in Seoul went:
Commence a crying jag.
Throw a hissy fit.
Threaten to call a taxi to take me to the airport to return to my Bandido-infested apartment in Midlothian.
Remember that I’m the one who got this whole thing started.
Start over with the sequence the next day.
I am ashamed of this. I pride myself on being pretty even-keeled and emotionless (not a healthy thing, I know). I hesitated to write about my failings as an explorer/adventurer, because really, who wants to read about a sniveling baby?
But yesterday, when I was finally beginning to feel like myself again, I asked Mack what he thought about me coming clean. I thought he made a good point when he said that it was definitely more helpful to someone who might be considering a change, to know that it’s not all fun and games; that there are emotional hills and valleys (what Mel has described as “waves” as he commences his journey to NYC).
Yesterday was a turning point for me. I know that there will be other “valley” days, but I began to have fun and get excited about this opportunity again. Maybe it was jet lag. Maybe it was the birthday:( Or maybe that’s just how it is when you pack up and leave your life (even if it was a choice).
So, that’s all the belly-aching. Onward and upward from now on. It really will be an adventure.