Breaking Out

I’m stuck. It’s like a hard crusty shell has grown into my skin like an insidious parasite, and I can’t freaking move. I’m rotting from the inside out.

Every country I’ve ever lived in, I’ve learned and grown in so many ways. I always discovered more about myself, more about what I can take and what I cannot. I met people I liked, people I loved and people who needed a chair thrown in the general direction of their teeth. All of it molded who I am today and how I see myself and my world.

I’ve been back in Lebanon since October 2010. That’s two years and five months in my “home country” and I feel like nothing has changed.

I mean, I’m sure I have changed in some small ways, because that will always happen in one form or another. But if I were to sit and tell you what I learned from the experience here…I can probably count them on the fingers of one hand, and most of it is not exactly dripping with positivity.

I’m losing passion.

I’m practically indifferent.

I hate to be indifferent. I’m an emotional person, sometimes too much so. I like to feel things and be a part of things. Unfortunately, I’m feeling so stagnant that I may as well be falling apart.

I’m pulling myself out of this. I’m holding onto the fact I’ll be powering through this final semester in just a few short weeks. I’m holding onto the hope that my CELTA training course in July will give me new experiences and insights and a huge door to possibilities.

For now, I’m starting small. I’m learning to get up in the morning and smile instead of allowing myself to stay tired and moody. I take long, deep breaths of the cold morning air when I walk outside to get a cab. I no longer pile on the layers to keep its icy touch out of my bones. The cold makes me want to move, and I feel happier when I’m moving. When I’m walking, I pretend I’m about to meet friends I hadn’t seen in a long time because it takes my mind off all the things I have to do while powerfully lacking the motivation to do them. If I’m panting my way up the cursed 100+ steps to get to another building on campus, I try to enjoy the burn in my legs because I don’t have time to go to the gym and I might as well make it a substitute.

Because right now, I may not be where I want in life or even know what I want exactly. But if I can’t change my outlook to help shed this repulsive shell that promises to bind me down in apathy and annoyance…then who will?


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