Today was definitely not an easy day and this blog entry is going to seem pretty unorganized, but my mind is positively overwhelmed with thoughts right now. I’m nervous and scared, but I think I’m finally ready. It’s my last night here at home, but it marks the first time I’ll be living by myself. It’s the last day of dreaming and yet, it’s the first day that the dream becomes a reality. After so many months— about a year— of preparation, I think I’m ready. But I certainly didn’t feel like that earlier today.
In fact, earlier today, it didn’t hit me that I was finally leaving until the afternoon. I got extremely anxious. I mean, I’ve spent so much time preparing and worrying about one thing or another that I hadn’t really given myself time to swallow that it was actually going to happen someday. I think that’s the best way to put it. I realized that I never gave myself time to cry, time to accept, and time to think about what’s going to happen. Suddenly, I began to excessively (and I mean excessively) worrying about my family, mainly my mom. I felt guilty and almost selfish because I felt that by leaving, I would be making her sad. It was just TORTURING me. I saw my best friend today too, she paid for my pedicure because she has a heart of gold <3 I had a bit of a cry with her when we had to say goodbye, just a few tears— but when I spoke to my mom tonight, I just let my tears flow freely and told her everything.
I told her how sorry I was for being a difficult and grumpy daughter over the past few weeks. I told her I loved her and I told her that I was having fears of me not being strong enough, but to my deluded surprise, she told me that she thought I was getting stronger by the day. She said that I was a responsible person because of how on-top of everything I am, and how she’s noticed that I’ve been doing more and more by myself lately. I guess she’s right, I mean, not too long ago, I was blogging about being scared to talk on the phone! I’m still a little roll-my-eyes-y when I have to do it, but scared? Get out of town! I mean, just a few months ago— in May actually— I was the one huddled in a corner asking my mom to make a doctor’s appointment for me because of how talkingtostrangersoverthephone-ophobic I was. That kind of makes me laugh now. That kind of makes me really laugh. And it was my mom who pointed that out!
I told her that I’d keep in contact with her— you know, taking pictures, and even sending her emails at her work email address, just so she can know how I’m doing during the day to keep her reassured. I think we both felt better after that conversation. In fact, it somehow veered from the topic of confidence to makeup and then to me explaining Einstein’s theory of Relativity to her. Yeah… I went there… But the whole point is, to me, this is the indication that things were back to normal, that my earth wasn’t crashing down because I was leaving (and neither was hers), and that things were going to be okay. Alas, the hardcore worries, fears, and anxieties began to wane. Is it going to suck at the airport tomorrow when I have to say goodbye? Kind of. Of course, but I’m glad that me and my mom had that discussion now because it needed to happen at home before I left to the airport. It’s certainly going to make that goodbye-for-now much easier than if it didn’t happen. It’s kind of silly to be so sad anyway. I’m going to be back in Canada in December for a few weeks for Christmas holidays, so I don’t want to say, “leaving” my family… It’s more like I’m “BRBing” them.
Man, am I going to miss Canada. It’s been beautiful, kind, and the very essence of home. I can rest my head in my house in my room knowing that I’m completely safe. This is the last night in that bed for the next three months (back for a few weeks then going back to England for the rest of the year). It’s strange to think that the next bed I sleep in is going to be English. The next bed I sleep in is going to tell a story.
Butterflies are throwing up in my stomach, but I think I’m ready. Wishing everyone else who’s about to travel soon very much luck. Keep a leveled head and remember your time spent chasing that dream.
Okay, four days until I leave. Sublime. And I’ve finally begun to feel that momentary sheer terror of the fact that it’s all coming true. Not that I’m bawling my eyes out telling myself that I don’t want to leave. It’s just the momentary swoop in your stomach, the one you get right before the roller coaster slows down then plummets. This blog entry is going to be about my fears/anxieties/concerns, except that instead of just leaving myself in the dark, I’m going to rationalize each and every one. Here it goes:
My parents, my aunt, and my sisters—- I don’t want them to get all weepy on me at the airport. That would really dampen my spirits. I know they love me and I’m definitely not going to be cruel and tell them not to cry, but I just want to leave knowing that I’m not bothering anybody by leaving, and I REALLY don’t want to cry either. It’s tough watching other people cry without crying (for me, anyway).
I shall conquer this fear by telling myself the following:
Passport Control at Heathrow Airport:
Well I really wouldn’t want to get deported back into Canada, now would I? This is the way my scared side feels about it: I’m going to be jet lagged like hell. Why? Because by the time I land in London, England, it’ll be two in the morning in Canada. What if they ask me something and I’m so nervous or so tired that it goes in through one ear and out the other and I don’t know how to respond? And what if I don’t have one of the documents they ask for?
Damn you, Fear!:
My “Kitchen Mates”:
The way it works in my hall of residence is that instead of floor mates, you get “kitchen mates” meaning that you share a kitchen with a certain number of people (I’m not sure how many). I’m scared that I won’t like many of these people/many of these people won’t like me. I’m also scared that things will get clique-y. Why should I limit myself to just my kitchen? I want to make close friends that I can talk to. My cousin, who went to Japan on her exchange said, “Over there, your friends are your family,” so it would really suck if I made no friends, but all that sounds silly because:
My Safety: (enough said)
The teaching methods/lectures/tutorials over in the UK are really different from Canada. It’s more interactive (more talking in front of the class and more group work) and I’m not used to that. Also, in Canada, it’s actually illegal (it’s a bylaw) to make one assignment/exam worth more than 50% of the student’s mark. In England, game on. So that means that I could enter a class where 100% of my mark is based on one three hour exam or essay.
This made me feel a lot better and now I have something to refer to whenever those fears gnaw at me. Things will be more wonderful than I could ever imagine :)