Lately, a weird desperate feeling has set in. I really want to go home. I mean, in a clawing, whining, crying sort of way. After two and a half months of living here, I am obsessively homesick. Weird. It makes absolutely no sense. I'm acclimated to my environment, I know people, I am not afraid of my classes anymore, I'm capable of ordering a sandwich correctly in a restaurant. I think this new reality is partly to blame on the countdown until I actually come home being in the 29 day range now, and also because the sun goes down at 4 here. Yes, it is pitch black by 5 o'clock. I have never been subject to seasonal depression before, but clearly something odd is going on with my body when I come home from classes at 3, take a two-hour nap, and then make dinner by 5. I then proceed to shove as much food as possible into my system, and go to sleep by 11, after having a weepy conversation with my mother about how I am getting no schoolwork done and am depressed all the time. I wake up 5 times during the night to drink water/have a nightmare, and still somehow manage to wake up with my throat sealed shut and my split lip bleeding from dry heat. I have almost gotten hit by cars twice in the last two days. I am having problems here, people.
The avoidance of school projects is a vicious cycle. I have no television, no books to read for pleasure, and no one to talk to, so I can either buckle down and spend all of my free time researching journal articles on representations of community in The Color Purple or nag myself about why I'm not doing that and have no attention span for intricate study. Ugh, if only I could speed up time.
Fortunately, tomorrow I'll be touring Roman baths, and next week I'm going to Scotland for four days. Maybe Highland Cows will cure my angst.
No comments:
Post a Comment