Identity Crisis

     Well, it's been two weeks since I returned from England, and I think now I am finally ready to talk about the feeling of returning to my homeland.  I won't lie.  It has very much been a struggle for me to accept that I am no longer abroad and there is no telling when I will get to return.  Obviously, this has caused me to sink into a bit of a depression.  Waking up every morning to face the humidity of Missouri becomes and increasingly more difficult challenge as the days go on.  To make matters worse, my job search has not gone according to plan so I am still unemployed.  Since I am not taking online classes, I find myself with absolutely no reason to wake up in the morning or leave my room.  I'm in the same financial situation I was in in London, except at least over there I had an internship to fill my time and the entertainment of London at my fingertips.  Being poor AND bored is a very dangerous combination.

     I should mention that my life is not all depressing.  I have been so happy to be reunited with my friends.  Last Friday I went to the Marina & the Diamonds concert with a group of friends and it was so nice to just be around familiar faces that are happy to see you again.  (Also, the concert was amazing and Marina is now officially my spirit animal...for now anyways).  I've gone out to the bars in Columbia as a 21 year-old for the first time with my friends and it's just been great catching up with everyone.  Of course, after a week of meeting up with everyone, I am ready to just gather everyone up and ship ourselves off to London.  Everyone asks how it was, and all I can really say is, "It was incredible and I just want to go back." I find myself scared to be that person that can only talk about London after they spend only four months there.  I want nothing more than to fill my friends in on my wild stories and adventures (especially the ones that I can't share on here), but I fear it will make me sound pretentious.  For now, I am keeping many stories to myself. 

    My depression is also due to the avid amounts of research I have done to find ways back to the UK.  Sadly, as an American it's a lot harder than you may think.  I could marry a UK citizen, but given my dating record over the past three years, it doesn't seem likely.  Also, this doesn't automatically give me the right to work in the UK, only live there.  There are more hoops I have to jump through in order to work.  Another option is to get sponsored by an American company that has a branch in the UK.  This is my most realistic option seeing as I plan on finding a company that offers this and working my way up until they let me move to my desired branch.  My third option is to show the UK government that I have a skill that no one in the UK can provide. By doing this, you either show plans to be an entrepreneur or you show your skills to a UK company who then sponsors you to come abroad.  This is what my internship boss did when he wanted to move from Guatemala.  Seeing as I am an incredibly mediocre individual in comparison to the rest of the world, I really don't see that option happening for me.  Making sarcastic remarks about everyone inevitably dying alone isn't exactly a special skill.   

    To add to more frustration, I find myself in a bit of an identity crisis.  For starters, I can't stand the sound of my own voice.  At least when I was in London, I picked up some accent traits here and there.  I was more soft spoken and did my best to keep my accent as neutral as possible to make sure no one could make fun of it.  Now that I'm home, I feel like I am picking up a more southern accent than ever before and it drives me insane.  All my friends wanted me to come back with an English accent but now I sound more Midwestern than ever, and I absolutely loath it.  It's a shame really because this is who I am.  I was born and, minus the four years in England, raised in the Midwest.  This who I am.  Even though England was a huge part of my childhood and I cherish every moment, I wish we would have been stationed there just a few years earlier so I could have been born there.  I may not have as clear as memories but at least I would have access to dual citizenship. I've spent so little time in England compared to where I've spent the rest of my life, yet I feel like it's more apart of me than anything in the states.  The sad truth though is that, if I ever did find myself living and working in England, would I feel the same? Or would I just feel like the obnoxious American trying to be something I'm not.  That's the real challenge I guess when you want to leave your home country for somewhere else.  I still have a year of college left, but all these thoughts are already giving me anxiety.
     I remember getting to London and being so scared that everything would not live up to my expectations.  When it did, I gained even more fear and anxiety.  Now, going back is all I think about.  What I worry though is that I will go through the same stages of loneliness, wishing I could share it all with those I love.  In some regards, its like the grass is always greener on the other side.  To make matters worse, I think about all the people I met while abroad.  Through choir, work, and travel, I was fortunate enough to meet some incredible people.  Now, the only thing that holds us together is the black hole of acquaintances that is Facebook.  It's just so odd to know that I think about these people almost everyday when I miss England, yet they probably see me on their newsfeed and wonder how we know each other.  In a way, that sort of breaks my heart, but it's a harsh reality.  My life has changed, and their lives continue on as if I was never there.

    I know this post may seen a little depressing, but what can you expect when you go from endless adventures to fighting to get out of bed?  Please don't take this entry to be whiny.  I wouldn't trade this semester for anything and I am ecstatic to be back with my friends and family.  I just have a lot of thoughts about my future to go along with that.  And can you really blame me with only a year of school left?  I wonder if my fellow study abroad classmates feel the same way. Maybe it's time for a little reunion. 

Cheers,

Janelle

P.S. Soon, I will be compiling all my restaurant, shopping, and travel tips, but all this needed to be lifted off my chest first.

So long, England

   In 6 hours I will be on a flight back to the U.S., and to be honest I don't really know how to feel about that.  This past week and a half have been both a struggle and so much fun.  Sure I was cooped up in a hospital for four days, but I've also done some amazing sight seeing with my parents and family friends.  I think this has given me a little different perspective of England because I've been able to see things that not many other study abroad students get too.  We walked about Cambridge for a day, went into Lavenham, and have explored other Medieval villages around the Swindon area.  Although, I'm still regaining strength and get tired easily, I've really enjoyed seeing the more quaint side to England.  It's nice to be able to see some sheep, and swans close up too, or go for walks along footpaths in the English countryside.
   It's not just the experiences I will miss, but the people as well. Between the choir, my work, and all the trips, I have met some pretty incredible people.  My only hope is that we will stay in contact and one day meet again in the future.  It breaks my heart a little knowing that there is a huge chance that I will never see any of these people ever again.  Hopefully Facebook can bridge that gap a bit.
   It's all just odd because I feel like this is totally separate from my study abroad experience, even though I am still in the same country.  I no longer am a student, nor holding an internship, or living with my classmates.  I am now totally a tourist.  It seems the transition between student to tourist is just an odd blur in which neither stage ended nor began, they just are there.  They may not make much sense but it denies me the feeling of finality.  I know I am leaving England today, hopefully not forever, but for probably a long time, and it just hasn't hit me yet.  I keep telling myself that when I get home, I will probably shut down in full on depressed mode, but I wonder if that will even happen.  I mentioned in an earlier post that I am not a sentimental person, so I half expect to just wander around all summer in this half indifferent attitude that I don't really know what think about.  I guess time will only tell what my attitude will be this summer.
    I will desperately miss England.  Sure, in America, you can go to the grocery store at 3 o'clock in the morning, but I will miss this different lifestyle.  People ask me why I like England so much, and I can never quite put my thumb on it. Is is the constant tea drinking? The way cursing is accepted in everyday conversation? Or how walking from one place to another is widely accepted?  It could be a mixture of all these things, or it could just be the atmosphere I love so much.  Whatever the reason, I cannot wait to return, hopefully next time it will be indefinitely.  I have this long term plan in my head of getting a company to sponsor me so I can move over here for good, but God knows if that will ever pan out.
   My concern now is to get back to the states and try so hard not to get knocked off my feet from reverse culture shock.  I'm thinking it will be harder than I expect.  I've got a glorious scrapbook project waiting for me when I get back to keepsake all my London/England/Europe memories, so hopefully that will keep me sane.  If not, my friends will just have to deal with me signing my emails with "cheers", describing food as "gorgeous", and me drinking Pimm's or any other English alcohol every time we go out.  I'm not trying to be one of those annoying people that are pretending to be english, I'm just bring back old habits from my 8-year-old self (expect for the drinking part).  If it keeps me sane for my last year of college, I see nothing wrong with it.
    So, for now, goodbye England.  I will miss your gloomy rains, your divine countrysides, your rich history, and your quirky people.  My love for you will only make me work harder to return, so you have not seen the last of me, my dear England.


Cheers,

Janelle


P.S. This is not my last blog post, for I plan on compiling a list of restaurants, shops, and travel tips from the last few months in my next post. So don't disappear from me yet!

I heart the NHS

Wow, do I have a lot to catch you lot up on.  The Wednesday after the concert, my parents met up with me so we could do some traveling around London.  Still, I was feeling right awful and sick, but being my last week of work I sucked it up and tried to be the best hostess I could be to my parents. Let me give you a quick little run down of all the happy events that ensued before disaster struck:

• Parents arrived on Wednesday and we had a lovely dinner and walk around Regents Park and Camden.  I've really missed them over the course of my study and I was so happy to see them, even if they can be very loud American tourists.  
• Thursday was our last class with our British Culture professor and it was sad to say goodbye to him.  He's been a really great professor throughout the term and I've been fortunate enough to learn some very interesting things about British Culture that I never thought I would.  It was such an enjoyable class and I will truly miss it when I start taking classes again at Mizzou.
• Thursday, my parents and I did more walking, this time around Hyde Park.  Eventually we wandered off to the Tower of London.  Talk about a fascinating place.  You'll have to excuse me for not having a plethora of facts to share, but this happened over a week ago and there have been other things that have distracted me, but I'll get to that later...
• Thursday night, I took my parents to see "Once: The Musical".  If you haven't seen the movie, go see that first, but the musical was also fantastic.  It's such a simple underrated little story with incredible music.  There is something about simple Irish folk music that is just so emotional and pure.  Before the show and during intermission, they had an open bar on stage that the audience members could come an purchase a drink.  Since the ticket sales aren't doing so well, we ended up getting upgraded for seats and went from the top tier very back all the way to about 20 rows back in the stalls.  They were probably £65 tickets.  Wins all around!
• Friday was my last day at work.  Of course it was stressful since I was passing off all my work and we were trying to get the website finished for the end of the day.  Luckily we got everything done by the time my parents got in to have a glass of champagne and meet everyone I have been working with.  If you ever need a boost, just leave your job and have a little party.  You will be showered with more compliments than you know what to do with.  Anyways, it was lovely to have everyone meet each other.  Afterward, my parents went to dinner and I left with my coworkers to go grab a drink.  It was all really bittersweet because even though this was not my ideal position, I still grew very fond of my colleagues.  It was sad to say good bye to everyone and I'm pretty sure my supervisor started to cry as she left the tube. I also feel bad because I'm not  the most sentimental individual so I very rarely show emotions at the time.  I think this often makes people believe that I am cold and unfeeling.  This is not the case, as I have full intentions on returning home and wrapping myself in a burrito blanket and crying about how much I miss England.  
• Saturday, my parents and I went to Hampton Court Palace and had a grand time trying not to get caught outside in the rain.  To be quite honest it was down right fascinating to a history buff like myself.

So through all this, I was fighting off body aches, fevers, and infection. Saturday night, I had had enough and took myself to the A&E for antibiotics.  The doctor told me that if I began spiking fevers again, I needed to take myself to the hospital. Still, on Sunday, we dragged ourselves from our hotel in London to Heathrow to pick up the car and then off to Saxmundham to visit our family friends again.  Well, it only took until about 10 o'clock at night for the body shakes and fevers to start again and off to Ipswitch Hospital we went.  It was here that I stayed for four days.  Apparently my heart rate was high while my blood pressure was low, and the levels in my blood were all over the place.  THIS is NOT where I wanted to spend my English vacation time.  To make matters worse, I was supposed to leave the country before my Visa expires and come back after it expires to catch our flight home.  Well, in order to be dismissed from the hospital, we had to promise not to do any extensive traveling, so the Ireland trip got cancelled and now I'm technically in the country illegally.  We have every intention to leave by the 8th of May, but who knows what kind of trouble this will cause at border control when we come home.  

ANYWAYS, it's been quite a thrilling, inconvenient experience.  I never want to spend that much time in a hospital ever again.  I feel like I have actually lost muscle mass in my legs from lying in bed all day for four days.  We've tried to do some touring in the surrounding areas and my body just can't handle it.  I can NOT believe that four days in a bed could make me so out of sorts with my body. I feel like such a fat lard that can barely walk.  It's quite pathetic actually.

So that has been the reason for my absence.  It's been 50 shades of not fun.  

Moral of the story: Go to the hospital when you start to get sick. And take care of yourself to begin with, kids. You'll be better off. Also, I love the NHS. 

Cheers,

Janelle