Whiplash

For the first time all week, I feel like writing. It has been a rough one. Not bad, per se, but hard. The biggest problem has been jetlag. You never realize how tough it is until you're going through it! Homesickness has set in, as well. Quarantine ended up being much rougher than I expected, and the reality of a COVID semester has really set in at this point. That's a lot, so let's unpack it.

To start, jetlag. Whoa, boy. That's not fun! I really didn't think it was too bad, especially in that first week. Sure, I was tired, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. After all, I was locked in my room, so it wasn't like anyone was expecting me to go to social events or classes. We had a million meetings, but those were totally manageable. The problem is that you really just don't feel like yourself. You don't realize it until it starts easing, however, and that's when things get really tough. This week, I've been struggling with starting to 'wake up', so to speak, and that means realizing that I'm not home. More than that, my whole system has been off kilter pretty much since I got here, so I've spent most of the last two weeks feeling vaguely ill. Not enough to really think I'm sick, but enough to wish I was in my own bed, eating my own food, and cuddling my dog. I couldn't have any of those things, though, and coupled with coming out of the sleepy portion of jetlag, it was a perfect storm.

The next biggest problem was definitely homesickness. This one was weird, though, because it was nothing like I've ever experienced before. The other two times I can remember dealing with that were back when I was at camp for a week, then at Spring Arbor for the first time. With camp, I was with my best friend and barely an hour from home - if that - but it was the first time I'd been away from everything familiar. I remember feeling really nauseas, anxious, uncertain. Pretty much what I would expect from myself when dealing with homesickness. Any of you who know me know that my body reacts physically to just about every emotion I feel, so the nausea was not at all surprising to me then. A few days and I was just fine.

Spring Arbor was definitely a bigger deal than one week of camp, but the homesickness wasn't quite as bad. Or at least, I don't remember it being too bad. I know letting my parents and brother drive away the first day I was in my apartment was difficult. I needed groceries that night, so I drove from Spring Arbor into Jackson to go to Meijer, and being in such a bland, familiar space helped a lot. Having my own space - bedroom, kitchen, living room, everything - was a huge help, too. I could retreat when I was too overwhelmed. I could choose when I interacted with people and when I didn't. Then I had a bunch of classes to keep me occupied.

Having those experiences, I expected to be prepared for being homesick here. I might feel sick for a couple days, might need to cry one night, but I would survive it. I would be fine. What I didn't count on was a combination of homesickness and culture shock. Now, how in the world might I be feeling culture shock stuck in quarantine, you might ask. I get it! It was the last thing I expected.

Expected or not, however, I was definitely dealing with culture shock. Even as I was longing for my own bed and my family, I was facing the reality that I was going to sleep on an entirely different land mass and the people around me sounded nothing like my family. The food was different, never mind that Brits and Americans have similar taste preferences. Even the taps in the bathroom confronted me with a totally different world each time I went to the bathroom. (What is up with the separate spigots for hot and cold water, anyway? One hand is plunged into boiling water and the other instantly hypothermic... WHY????) For as easily as I thought I would handle all these changes, I wasn't.

The one thought that was on repeat just about the whole time was the fact that, when I finally left quarantine and got out into the surrounding countryside, I would be very far from home. I wouldn't know where anything was, I wouldn't know who lived in what house, and I wouldn't even know the rules of the road. When I was deep in quarantine and had more than a week to go until freedom, it wasn't such a big deal. But now that I'm less than 24 hours from being released into the surrounding country, it's a reality and I'm being forced to deal with the reality.

Which brings us to quarantine. As an introvert and a homebody, I've never had a hard time with being alone. I like being alone. I feel the most at ease, the most myself when there is no one else in the room. There are a select few people with whom I love spending time and who don't wear me out. I have even more friends who are wonderful and bring so much joy to my life. I have truly been blessed with a wonderful group of people in my life, and I wouldn't give them up for anything. But I still do so much better when I'm alone.

Knowing that about myself, it really surprised me that quarantine became such a difficult situation. By the second day of this week, I found myself just wanting freedom. Not to go outside specifically, considering the culture shock I talked about above, but just to have the choice of going where I want when I want like I have at home. Honestly, I think the biggest problem was everything above combining on top of not having the freedom to go where I want.

So that brings me to tonight. For the first time all week, I feel like myself. I don't feel like hiding in my room or turning around and heading straight home. I'm not necessarily ready to venture outside - even if I was free to leave quarantine - but the idea doesn't freak me out like it did earlier this week. When we are free tomorrow, when we have a few moments between meetings, I am ready to test my wings. It still scares me. It's still intimidating. But it feels manageable where, before, it didn't.

At the close of this week, I am thankful for God's grace getting me through. It has been a rough seven days. I am thankful for my family and their support as I work through this stuff. I am thankful for the people in my house, all these people who have come from a bunch of different places and backgrounds but are all so welcoming and fun. I'm thankful for a beautiful house and garden in which I have the time to adjust to this new place.

I hate writing such a negative post, but I promised myself that I would be honest about what I'm experiencing. It is both a challenge to deal with those things I'm feeling, and a chance to look for the good in the midst of my fears and struggles. Because there is always good. Even in the middle of the hardest times, there is always something good, something to celebrate. For this week, I choose to celebrate the quiet moments I found in which to refuel my spirit. I want to celebrate the beautiful surroundings that are just outside my door, and the next few months that will be so filled with spectacular experiences and memories. Above all, I am incredibly thankful for the love and support of my friends and my family. I could not do this without you guys, and I want you to know how grateful I am.

While there are a few things I could write about for you pertaining to this week, none of it is all that different from last week. More Zoom meetings, more idle afternoons in the garden, and more reading for my seminars. Next week is when the rubber meets the road. I have my first formal tutorial meeting on Wednesday where I get to discuss "The Book of the Icelanders" with an expert in Old Norse. I will have a lot of reading and writing to do, and I will be free to explore the landscape surrounding The Vines as much as I want. Needless to say, there will be plenty to write about then!

In the meantime, please pray that I would settle in and make this my home for the next few months. Please pray that I do well in my tutorials and am brave enough and strong enough to branch out both with my housemates and the surrounding landscape.

Until next time, with all my love,

Journey Joslin