Thoughts on the Floor

I'm sitting on the floor of my new house, next to an empty box of ritz crackers, a bottle of Chang, and a pink fan. There it is, right above me. I'm sure you needed proof.

I've been struggling to find the words to write lately, mostly because every day is a different emotional experience. Tonight, it's momentary relief. I'm alone (apart from the toad in my bathroom, but we've already talked out an agreement), I'm not-really-sweating, and I feel like today, I accomplished something. Do you ever just need that feeling sometimes? Like for the past couple of weeks you've just gotten out of bed, gone to the office, stared at your computer mindlessly, and gone back home, knowing you're going to do the same exact thing the next day. It becomes this monotonous routine until suddenly something inside you wakes up and says GET IT TOGETHER, and you do.

I suppose my lack of motivation is due to fear. The kids come back to school next week, and I don't feel prepared in any sense of the word. I've been looking at the mountain of responsibilities that have piled up and think "I can't handle all of that," and don't touch a single thing. My subconscious must think that strategy will keep the kids away longer.

I've also noticed this learned helplessness I have developed at site. Okay, well maybe it's not a new development. I think to some extent I have always relied on other people. I would go as far as to call myself a brat. Not to the extent where I throw a temper tantrum because no one will buy me a porsche. It's little things. I never really learned to cook for myself until college. When my mother and I would return from running errands, I would jump out of the front seat and walk into the house, not considering the 500 bags in her trunk that I should help her carry. Whenever I had any kind of issue, my car, my taxes, something not working in the house, I just assumed my parents would take care of it.

My helplessness is a double edged sword here. It can be frustrating to be treated like you're delicate and should not go unsupervised. At the same time, though, I'd be lying if I said it's nice to have someone look after you in a country that's very new to you. My counterpart has done so many wonderful things for me that I have lost count. Most recently and most appreciated, she took me to the ER after I (like a big dumb idiot) dropped a door on my foot and thought I had broken all my toes. (I didn't by the way, just some cuts that probably won't even scar cool). She introduced me to my landlord, helped me move in, and has worked on lesson plans with me even though she has other things to do. And despite all the thank yous I have said, I just assumed she would do these things. It wasn't until we came back to my house from the mall, and I bounded up my front steps only to hear her say "Emily, you forgot your bags in my trunk!" that I thought: wow, Em, nothing's changed about you, has it?

This post is to acknowledge that I am trying to "un-bratify" myself. While it may come as a shock, Peace Corps doesn't accept volunteers who cannot do things for themselves. That means they can't have emotional break downs when ants take over their back porch, they can't get visibly frustrated that the locals don't understand their crappy Thai, and they can never, absolutely never, say "I can't handle all of that."

I can, and I will, because that's my job here.

I went to Bangkok alone this week for a doctor's appointment, and only got a little embarrassed when I walked onto someone's private property instead of the Peace Corps' by accident. I came back and made materials for all my classes, and didn't second guess them like I normally do. I said thank you to my coteacher before leaving like I always do, but this time added more weight to it, because she needs to know not all counterparts are this giving. I worked out in my living room, took an incredible shower with a bottle of beer, and then sat down to write this blog. It's slow progress, but progress indeed.

I'm choosing to step up now, because is there really an alternative?

We're making moves and growing up. See you next week, class.