Dear World,
I know I haven't written in awhile.
There is a perfectly good reason for that. In fact, the only reason
I'm writing now is because I feel like I need to get some things off
my chest. Firstly, thank you to those people who reached out to me
and my family in our time of need. It was very kind. I'm sorry I
haven't gotten back to most anyone, but I really do appreciate the
sentiment. Since my last update in November, I've done some really
great work, had delightful adventures, and then watched it all come
crashing around me last month when my mom called me to tell me that
my oldest brother had committed suicide. Suddenly none of the work I
had been doing seemed to matter. My world was shattered with only a
few words.
Honestly, I had no intention of going
to the States at all during my service. I knew it would be a
mentally shaking experience because I've cut a lot of things out of
my life that seem so important there. Mostly material things, but
also I have been shifting my worldview to try to see things in larger
scheme of things. What I'm getting at is that I was in no way
prepared for the very sudden decision to go home. (It was less of a
decision and more a feeling that there is nowhere else I could
imagine myself.) So in a daze I contacted PC admin with the help of a
friend because I was still struggling putting coherent sentences
together through the tears.
I want to take a moment to say that
everyone who helped me in this process, host family, Senegalese and
PC friends, and most especially PC Administration in Senegal were
absolutely amazing. I was in some of the best hands possible for
dealing with this situation. By the time I arrived in Dakar office
hours were long over, but there was a dedicated crew still there to
make sure that I had emotional support I needed and that I could get
on a plane that same night. That alone was enough to make me
emotional. I know there is no way possible to ever thank them
enough, but hopefully one day I can show them the gratitude I feel.
A grueling 36 hours after my mom
called me, I was in Salt Lake City, Utah, in running into the arms of
my dear big sister, Missie. All the emotions I tried to repress
during the long trek were finally able to gush out in the safest
environment possible. There is nothing like sharing your broken soul
to someone who understands exactly what you are going through because
they are dealing with it too.
Over the next couple of days the rest
of my family arrived and we had the first reunion of my very
expansive family in many years. Very few things could make that
happen. I wish this hadn't been one of those. But at least I was
able to see everyone. I think that is one of the few consolations of
my trip: I spent time with family and a few close friends. It was an
absolutely exhausting and emotionally tumultuous trip. The States is
weird. I really didn't know how to handle it. I think I went on
autopilot a bit so that I didn't have to deal with too many stimuli
at once. Grief trumps all.
I lost my big brother, the one who
spoiled me when I was little, who taught me archery and sparked my
youngest memories of wanderlust as I heard him describe his various
adventures and mishaps. Somehow our paths diverged over the years as
he grew up and I did too. I don't think he knew how much I looked up
to him and then later how much I wanted to be his equal, his
compatriot. He cut my family out of his life a few months ago, and
as much as I didn't think it was fair because we had never had a bad
relationship, I could do very little from my post in Senegal. And
now it's too late to change.
I didn't write this for sympathy. The
point of my blog is to let people who care about me know what I'm up
to. I came back to Senegal 3 weeks ago because it seemed silly to do
anything else. I had two weeks in America and while I had the option
to stay longer, I don't think I could have handled it. I'm glad I
came back. This is my home right now and I very much want to finish
my service here. To be honest though, I'm not back to my old self
yet. I know they say that time heals all wounds, but I would sure
like it to hurry up. I'm riding this emotional roller coaster, hoping
it doesn't have too many more unexpected twists and drops for awhile.
So in the meantime, I'm allowing
myself mental health days as needed. I stayed with some friends in
Toubacouta shortly after returning because they had visitors from
America and I love seeing how people react differently around people
who they've had relationships with pre-Peace Corps. I know I acted
differently when my sister and her fiancé came to visit. It was
really easy to fall into the little sister roll, but at times it did
contrast sharply with my PC persona and the personal growth that I
have experienced here. When that happened I had to step back and
consciously change how I responded. I did that somewhat when I was
home too, but to a lesser degree because it wasn't so glaringly
obvious when removed from my PC world. But I have changed. I have
overcome mental hurdles while adapting to a completely foreign
environment. I'm not done growing though. I think when I finally
find peace with the death of my brother I will be a more capable,
competent person. And who knows what other experiences await over the
next 8 months and beyond. So here's to riding the wave until I
finally settle on a gentle sun-kissed shore.
