I took a break from blogging because I didn’t understand my own emotions. And since I couldn’t explain them to myself, I didn’t want to open up about them others.
I’ve been going through re-entry culture shock.
I had no idea it would be this tough.
I thought returning to the States would be like coming home, although I knew I would miss where we lived for seven years in Central Asia.
Instead, I have more resonated more deeply with the idea of being a stranger in a strange land.
There are expectations all around me. People look at me: I look like an American woman. In fact, I am one. And then they expect me to act like one.
But sometimes it feels like I forgot how to do that.
We have been in the middle of the Christmas season, something I have not experienced in the States for six years.
I have never experienced it as a mom.
Our schedule started to get frenetic after Thanksgiving. It felt like it was driving toward some sort of awful, meltdown crescendo. And then it hit me: This heightening would not end until Christmas.
I remember walking through a Wal-Mart Supercenter when we first arrived in the U.S. last January. I was overwhelmed. My husband took a look at my eyes, and then gently took me by the hand.
“I think that’s about enough for today… Time to go.”
Like I’m Tom Hanks on Cast Away and I can’t handle simple things like electricity.
Which is sort of funny, until you are Tom Hanks!
Sometimes I want to tell those around me (who are usually quite kind, I might add),
“Yes, I sound like an American. Look like an American. … Even act like an American at times … But please be patient with me, because inside I feel different. And I’m still trying to figure all this out.”
I’ve found myself thinking of our first six months overseas.
Did I cry a lot? Did it feel this overwhelming?
If I’m honest I know that it did. Which gives me hope that God will get me through this season, just like He did before.
In the meantime, just pass me the tissues. 🙂