Wednesday, January 29, 2014

The Raw INFJ: 1-29-14--A Rant About "Home"

A post to let you know what's been going on in my mind:

     As everyone close to me knows, it’s not easy for me to cry in front of people. I’ve always pushed my sadness aside and when people try to comfort me, even if it’s my family, I’ve just been angry, even if all that I really needed and wanted were hugs. I’ve always been sort of stupid with my feelings, not able to express what I really felt and instead trying to feel them on my own by shutting others out. And I still haven’t quite learned how to adequately express myself.
     Here I am, 24 years old, sobbing in my room alone, under the guise that I’m sad only because I’m watching Glee season 5 episode 3 (the one that is a memorial for Finn Hudson/Cory Monteith). In actuality, I have been crying on and off for that 45 minutes because what I saw, since I watched from season 1, was Finn symbolizing goodness and change. Of course, a lot of us can’t say we knew Cory in real life, but I feel that he would have embodied the same spirit, especially to those that knew him. I thought Lea Michele’s song to him would have made me cry the most, but when I saw how everyone grieved in different ways, it was heartbreaking. I cried alongside them because of my own thoughts, but I also cried with them for the loss of something and someone truly great.
     I think, once in a while, everyone needs a really good cry. I know it works somewhat well for me, not so much lately while I’ve been in Thailand, but back at home, it has really worked wonders sometimes. Maybe I would be better off feeling happy around one of my other friends outside, instead of cooped up in my room for around 24 hours, but I think I need to let myself really feel the pain and sadness I’ve been keeping inside.
     Today, I took off a day from work for the first time since I’ve come to Thailand. I usually never skip work unless something big happens, and even then, I regret it during the day. But today, I didn’t regret it at all because what I really needed was to talk to someone who would just listen to me and then talk about random things going on back in Chicago (thanks, sis!). I didn’t need someone to feel sorry for me or to give me advice--I just miss home and I feel like every single time I talk with someone about my problems, I end up feeling worse. It’s gotten to the point where I probably shouldn’t be talking anymore about my problems. I need to work them out by myself and figure out what I want to do and need to do with my life.
     The most general, all-inclusive way to describe what has been tearing me apart is that I don’t know what I want to do at all. This past week, I watched How I Met Your Mother, and one episode really got to me. Marshall called Lily out for hurting him once, so many years ago, and that really resonated with me. I feel super selfish for leaving Ness behind to figure out my own life. I probably needed it to realize I wanted to do more and I want to travel. I haven’t been bitten by a travel bug at all--it’s always been there. It was just never cultivated. But while I am torn on what’s right and what’s wrong, as well as what’s logical and what my heart wants ever since I’ve come here, I’ve also been wrestling with when I should return home. 
     To me, home has always been where the heart is. My heart is at home with my family and friends, and there is never a time when I don’t want to be back there with them. Even when I’m looking at the mountainous roads, the waterfalls, and I’m in my cozy little studio apartment, I want to be home. More accurately, I want my home to be with me. I feel a pang every single time I see Guanyin and I take photos of her for my mom because I know my mom would love being there. When I see wood carvings and intricately-designed little sculptures, I think of buying them for my dad. Even when I have electronics issues, the first person I think about is my dad, even though it’s a simple problem I could solve. The funny thing is that every single time I get a bill that is only $12 in the mail, I think of my parents and of them raising me; I think of all their advice for my credit card, my phone, and my insurance. Those might sound dry and boring, but it really isn’t. For every single one, my parents really know what they’re talking about and just want the best for me, and even though when I go back, I probably will be like, “I know!!!!! I’ve done this all before!”, a big part of me will always appreciate hearing it, and I wish they knew it. Maybe I do sigh and they think that I act like I know everything, but I will always always always love them for helping me in every single way.  All I’ve ever wanted and needed from them was their support, and I am so glad to be getting it from all the way across the world.
     When I watch a show or see something cute that I want to talk about, I think of my sister and me sitting on our beds, me getting annoyed because she’s in my introverted bubble, but loving her for not letting me feel lonely... I don’t know if she knows, but when she’s not there for me talking about everything, I forget that sometimes being alone does make me feel really lonely. Those are two very different feelings, both very real, and being lonely definitely is one of the worst feelings in the world. I know when I return home and I haven’t seen her for nearly a year by July, she’ll get a giant awkward hug from me. Unfortunately, I still haven’t found her the best gifts from Thailand yet, but for the next month that I’m here, I’ll sure be looking because she deserves all the best.
     When I see little cars or talk with my students, or even need to vent about some “adult” problem (and then forget my boundaries), I think of my brother. He may be young and may be a thousand times more extroverted than me, and a lot of times, our interactions are about homework or games, and this is also a giant run-on, but I also love him for being there all the time. He really gets it; sometimes I just need quiet time, so I’ll read, and even though every so often, I’ll look up from my book and wonder WHY ON EARTH ARE YOU STILL SITTING ON THE END OF MY BED TAKING UP SPACE THAT I DON’T EVEN NEED RIGHT NOW, and see him trying to read too. It warms my heart, and I know he really cares. He just cares in a different way I’m used to, but he tries to get to my introverted level, and that’s all that matters. Again, I do get lonely and sad sometimes, and he’ll sit there until I don’t feel angry anymore. He’ll listen to my rants even though half the time, he might not even understand them yet, but he’s amazing for doing just that.
     Everywhere I go, and I know my parents will say I’m lovesick and most recently that he’s my other half (even though I thought they were talking about my salary... I promise, I’m not money-crazy! It was just the conversation flow at that time!), I think of Ness. We’ve had way more arguments than the total amount of months I’ve been in Thailand so far, and they’ve all stemmed from feelings I’ve had before, which have only grown since I’ve left. They all seem to point in what are, to me, nonsensical directions. Again, I don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong for me for right now. But after watching that Glee episode, I know what and who I love, and I know that I should work on what I care about. Every single moment I’ve been loving my motorbikes and the journeys I’ve taken on them, I thought about riding on the back of one with Ness. That’s a sacrifice I’d be willing to make if he were here--and I don’t know if you have been reading all my other posts, but I am in love with being the person behind the wheel. When I was atop the waterfalls, I wanted my family there, but I wanted to turn to him to complain about the fish that were nipping me and my clumsiness on the rocks as I slipped every ten seconds or so. When I’m in my studio room alone, I wish he could be sitting there on my bed so I could talk to him about how I’m getting fat and then we could go downstairs to the market together so I could eat some more sugar. 
     I hope he doesn’t think that I enjoy abandoning him because I really do think about him all the time. It has been really hard being away from everyone, and I hope he doesn’t think that I plan on leaving again without any cares or worries. It’s a really big consideration, and I haven’t made any decisions whatsoever yet. I also hope he doesn’t think that I’ve already mentally left in any way because I haven’t. It does stink that I’m making him feel like I don’t care and that the past 5 years really haven’t mattered. I know I am confused and I know that’s frustrating, but especially after watching Glee and HIMYM, both episodes making me cry profusely and very loudly, (my neighbor probably thinks I’m a nutcase if he didn’t already...), I put things into better perspective. I’m still thinking, but I know that behind all the confusion, my heart does belong to certain people. I keep forgetting that because I get distracted, being so far away, but at the end of the day, it still belongs to my family and Ness. 
     I don’t know. There are countless more examples of each and every time I’ve wanted my home to be with me, and it would take pages and days just to describe them all. My blog posts are, in a large part, for me because I have the worst memory ever. One day, I want to look back and laugh at all my silliness and be glad I did what I did. But when I take pictures and write out everything in full-detail, it’s also for my family and Ness. How else can they see what I’ve been seeing, unless I do my best to show them? I want them here, and the next best alternative to them coming and joining me (which I know they can’t just do because they all have their own lives), is to write in a long, exasperating way so that they could partially see what I wish they could be here for.
     Anyway, I miss home. I don’t need to be back in Chicago or anything just to “be home,” but I do miss everyone who I can call home. Even though my heart yearns to continue exploring new places and meeting new people, I don’t know if I can or will do it. I certainly want to, but I still have no clue at all on what my next plans are. I think I will just keep shrugging my shoulders and see what happens.

     I’ll just have to patiently push through the next few weeks of school, and when I return in March, hopefully, I will work things out or things will work out themselves. I hate saying “I don’t know” all the time, and I feel like that’s what I’ve been saying since I got here, but who knows... maybe “I don’t know” can end up being a good thing. In any case, I’ll do my best to count on that.

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