Rush

I knew this would happen. I leave off posting for a few days, and then the longer it's been since I posted, the more reluctant I am to post, because I'm embarrassed that I haven't posted in so long.

It's been five weeks since my last post, and this is bad, because I have so many things to think about and to turn over in my mind, and often it seems that only when I write about things do they become clear to me.

These past five weeks have been taken up by so many things, most notably my daily prep class, and various scheduled outings organized by the MICEFA. And in addition to prep class, we had a weekly "cultural adaptation" class in which we would discuss how we were adjusting to life in Paris and in French culture. In the session before last, we discussed journal-keeping and Barbara, director of the MICEFA and our class instructor, made us do an exercise in which we write a journal entry. This is what I wrote, an approximation of the past four weeks (given the I wrote this a week ago).

I’ve been running, moving, rushing for weeks it seems, ever since I got here. First it was hurry up and wait for a flight on Aug 20, Departure Day. Then it was a week at Aurelia’s and adjusting to the startling heat and getting used to daily prep classes.

Week 2: I moved into the hostel and the housing search began in earnest. Homework, parents, studio, class, chambre de bonne...so many things going on at once I can’t think. Both a blessing and a chore because I can’t get a moment to myself—but when I’m alone I can’t help but recall everything I left behind.

Saturday 4th: moving-out-of-the-hostel day. I haven’t found a place. Having nightmare visions of having to beg patches of floor off a fellow student for the however long until I find somewhere to live. Experiencing that urge I was warned against—to just give up and go home. Always, always afraid, that’s me. Isn’t that why I came here? To test myself, because I KNOW that I’m so hard-headed that I need pain, difficulty, trial to force myself to be the best I can be? Lazy, cowardly, boring (and bored)—you know you need this. You’ll regret it for the rest of your life if you give up, no exaggeration. Are you so weak that you can’t rise to the challenge?

7 days ago: found a place. I take it, finally I can have peace. Now I have a space that is my own, to ruminate and over-analyze. I’m not really sure I want all this alone time. The empty space fills up with… the reluctance, the refusal to think about the painful things. You need it. I wish I were...stronger. Less scared.

That’s why I’m here.