depression – DU Abroad

When I was a child, it was always my dream to travel the world. No matter where I went or what I would do, I wanted a career that would allow me to travel and see the places I would read about in novels or see in movies.

Growing up in a small town, you know everything and everyone around you, existing in a tiny bubble of comfort that most people are scared to break. I felt trapped, a caged bird hoping to flap my wings one day as I was meant to do. I wanted to break the bubble, float into the gravity of the unknown and make my own sense of the world. The world’s greatest navigator, neither Don Quixote nor Marco Polo would have anything on me.

Though, now that I am older and am actually experiencing the world, sometimes I find myself wanting to be that small girl again, yearning for her magic carpet to whisk her away and show her a whole new world.

Sometimes, the world isn’t always what it seems. It’s scary; facing the unknown head on is a terrifying experience that many people–myself included–hate doing. As much as I dreaded it, sometimes I wish I was in that small town again, knowing what to do and say and knowing the people around me, protecting myself from the judgement of those who don’t know me.

Growing up is hard. Especially in your 20s. Everyone says your 20s are where you find yourself, but why? Why is there a timetable to self-discovery? I left my hometown to learn more about myself and the world, yet I only have a certain amount of time to do so? So much pressure for someone who has barely lived life.

That girl who wanted to travel is still there; she never quite left. But her dreams became more realistic the older she became. No more flying carpets, Doraemon robots, or fairy dust, but rather an expensive desire in an even more expensive world. Expenses come with age, I’ve found.

There is no denying that I have been having the time of my life here, but there are times where I fear that maybe–just maybe–it will be a waste of time and money. Is that just the ‘low income’ talking? Maybe. But I can never shake off the fear of financial instability.

Being able to study abroad without financial worries because of scholarships has been a blessing, and one I will not take for granted. And yet, I still wish I had it all and nothing all at once. I have always felt imposter syndrome, but I have made a brand new definition here as I learn about all of the things I never knew or never will.

They say your 20s are your time for self exploration, but they are also times of self comparison. I constantly find myself comparing myself to everyone around me; my friends, my peers, strangers. Not only in regard to skills, but with looks, ability to fit in, anything and everything becomes a competition in my mind. I even question if my friends are even actually my friends and are instead simply tolerating me because of these downcast periods.

I know this is unhealthy, but as a first-generation student sometimes I feel as though I am undeserving of my accomplishments, especially if others are better or smarter or have more friends.

These feelings become particularly amplified in a new space, like now. When I do not have the comfort or support system as readily available as I did before, it’s difficult to get out of those ruts whenever they occur. I have been learning how to combat these feelings, but sometimes they overwhelm me and cause long depressive episodes.

I won’t lie to you guys: it hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows. It has been so exhilarating embracing Japan in all of its glory and all that it has to offer, but even the brightest days become dark and cold. The excitement of having and participating in a new experience forms an all too perfect union with the fear and anxiety of not knowing what to expect. I want to step out of my comfort zone, but my anxiety continuously keeps me in a loop of sticking to the same routine out of a desire for normalcy in a place with so much uncertainty.

Growing up is risky. Being an adult is risky. Learning new things is risky. And, as my therapist would likely tell you, risks are one of the scariest things I face. I’m so afraid of the failure that I end up pausing and, as a result, diminishing myself for the sake of safety.

But risks are okay. I know that. I just have to become okay with it.

Slowly but surely, I have developed my own methods for protecting myself and my mind when I am down in the dumps.

Allow yourself to feel it. You feel as though you are ungrateful for being sad or whatever emotion you are feeling, but emotions are the most human thing we can experience. Regardless of what it may be, being emotional is not a crime. You don’t have to push yourself down when you feel this way, for it is a natural consequence of life and humanity.

Instead, indulge in things you know will distract you or uplift your mood, even slightly. I personally like to go on walks and find a coffee shop to relax, but I also have days where I simply bed rot and doom scroll on TikTok. Both are okay. Your methods of coping are not any less valid if they are less ‘productive’ than someone else’s.

Productivity =/= validity. Who cares if you are laying in your PJs with a pizza and watching a movie if it provides you joy? Most people don’t, and neither should you. Never deny yourself to feel the presence of joy, regardless of how productive it may or may not make you feel.

Studying abroad is both the most memorable experience you will have, and consecutively the scariest. These conflicting things are no doubt going to cause intense emotions, but I am coming to learn that it is okay to feel both.

I came to Japan thinking I would have to improve myself, and I have! There are many aspects of my life that have improved from being here just for the short amount of time that I have.

However, I have come to learn that there are simply some things that are okay just as they are: don’t fix what isn’t broken, for better words.

Take in the view, listen to your mind, and breathe. It is always okay to breathe.

A sparrow in the sakura blossoms, a reminder that Spring is coming; you just have to look up.

–

I got a bit vulnerable today, but if spilling my guts is helpful to even one person, it will have been worth it.

Thank you all for reading, and I will see you in another post!

Apparently, studying abroad is an amusement park.

According to the Office of Internationalization and just about any published resource on the topic, the emotions associated with study abroad is most like the Boomerang ride. You know, that U-shaped ride at amusement parks that straps you in, pulls you up to the highest point on the track, hands you and your queasy stomach over the cruel hands of gravity, and eventually cascades you back up to the other incline of the U. They call this the “Cultural Adaptation Curve.” But I like my rollercoaster analogy better.

PLEASE NOTE: I am fully aware that cultural adaptation and homesickness are technically two different things, but they also very intertwined in my mind.

culture_shock_curve_new — For you math-minded folks.

Let’s hope this is wrong, considering a semester abroad is only about 3.5 months long, which would mean we would all be blissfully ignorant for half the time, then come home in the gutter of hostility.

In my humble opinion, homesickness is more like a daily ride on the Six Flags’ Tower of Doom. This ride straps you into a 250 foot tall totem pole-looking tower and, once again, lets gravity toy with your stomach and self-respect for a never-ending amount of time. Disneyland has it’s own version of this, called the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror, if you’re more familiar with that. If you can’t tell from my description, this is consequentially my least favorite ride of them all.

I am about to hit the one-month mark of my arrival in Rome and homesickness tends to be a daily experience on the Tower of Doom for me, and it has been this way since the day I arrived. Thankfully, it only comes in small doses and I only feel these low, gut-wrenching emotions when I’m sitting around the apartment, doing nothing in particular, or when I’m at school without my friends.

I tend to struggle when it comes to making friends since I’m somewhat introverted. Thankfully, the housing director for ISA did an impeccable job in my apartment’s housing assignments as all of my roommates have become my best friends here, making my job of finding a niche much easier. However, when I’m left to fend for myself at school, I long for the days at DU where I can always greet someone I know as I walk through campus.

As for homesickness settling in when I’m doing nothing in my apartment, I realize I’m being rather hypocritical. In my last post, Il Dolce Far Niente, I described how I was “homesick for being lazy.” I take that back. I’ve reverted to my old ways where I need to be doing something productive in order to stay happy. Sitting around doing nothing in my apartment does terrible things for my psyche. My roommate, Julie and I discussed this yesterday and we seem to be in agreement that sitting on our laptops, refreshing our Facebook newsfeeds for hours does keep us feeling connected to home, but it also tends to be a waste of our time in a new country.

Therefore, I am left in a bit of a pickle. If I can’t be busy with extracurriculars all the time, in my attempt to learn how to relax, but must also find a way to keep myself from drowning in a sea of homesick blues, what’s a girl to do?

Here are my tips on combatting homesickness. I title them thus:

“An Overachiever’s Guide to Overcoming Homesickness”

1. Accept and embrace. I have a tendency to try to distract myself from my problems rather than facing them like a real woman. But inspiration against this came from “Eat Pray Love” by Elizabeth Gilbert (my bible) in one of my favorite literary passages:

“When I get lonely these days, I think: So be lonely, Liz. Learn your way around loneliness. Make a map of it. Sit with it, for once in your life. Welcome to the human experience.”

Distraction tends to lead to bottling, which leads to taking that pressure and frustration out on others who probably don’t deserve it. I would have to say that this one is particularly important if you are attempting a long-distance relationship such as I am. My boyfriend and I are much happier when we are being honest with each other about how much we miss each other and how miserable we are without each other, rather than stifling those emotions with the intention of not throwing more baggage on the other person. As I said, this only leads to bottling and inadvertent confusion.

2. You aren’t alone. Once you’ve managed to admit your homesickness to yourself, try admitting it to someone else. I guarantee you they are feeling the same thing or have felt it at one point in their life. When Julie asked me yesterday if I’m feeling homesick it was like a huge weight off my shoulders to know that she was feeling the exact same thing. We even made a vow to take each other out exploring in the future.

If you’re lonely, start being lonely with someone else. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll come to the realization…that you’re not actually lonely. *gasp*

2. Find a hobby. Mine? Taking pictures and eating. Not to be confused with eating out of boredom, I am on a determined hunt for the best and most affordable food in Italy. At home in Denver, my hobby tends to be filling up my schedule as much as humanly possible. As much as I’ve always loved photography and food, I haven’t had hardly any time to do these things in college. Now seems like the perfect time to dabble and revel in these two old loves of mine.

3. Go outside. Insert some scientific fact about how much sunlight improves your mood. On top of sunshine, exploring and observing also allows you to learn your way around your new city. Trust me, when you learn the lay of the land and how to get to things on your own, it will stop feeling “new” and start feeling like “home.”

4. Enjoy the little things. It’s very easy while living in another country to get bogged down by the seemingly negative differences between your host country and the place from whence you came. The best way to get past these moments is to turn it around and find the silver lining.

For example, I can’t express to you in words how much my roommates and I miss Target–one mega store where you can conveniently buy absolutely anything you could ever possibly need. Italy runs on many small specialty stores: frutterias (fruits and vegetables), formaggerias (dairy and cheeses), farmacias (pharmacy/personal hygiene), electronics stores, clothing stores, underwear stores, sunglasses stores, home decoration stores…I could go on forever. In one mindset, this is horribly inconvenient. But on the flip side, fruterias have the freshest and cheapest produce because they can afford to do so. If you’re into the whole anti-monopolizing corporations, they’re pretty much nonexistent under this business model as all of these little shops are family owned by the most friendly people. There’s ample good qualities if you look for them.

My favorite way of enjoying the little things is, of course, my focus on food during this trip. Every successful meal is a win in my book. I will shamelessly admit that a good meal or snack automatically makes any day better. Case in point: I started writing a blog post earlier this week about the less than successful trip to Assisi we took last weekend. Many things went wrong on that day but you know what didn’t?

This:

This is rocciata (roh-CHA-tah)–essentially, Italian apple strudel. Flaky, gooey, nutty, sugary, awesome-y rocciata. Perhaps instead of remembering the negative things, that day can live on the memory of this little piece confectionary heaven. It’s the little things that count.

“Chow” for now,

– Cheyenne Michaels, DUSA Blogger –

Tag: depression

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A Mouthful of Rocciata Helps the Homesickness Go Down