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Date Posted: 15:17:27 06/08/03 Sun
Author: Ginger
Subject: {{{Isabelle}}} I don't know you very well, but I just wanted to let you know that you aren't alone...
In reply to: Isabelle 's message, "Oh I'm so sorry I haven't come here sooner ..." on 12:31:57 05/17/03 Sat

I am American, and I have lived/studied/worked/traveled overseas quite a bit, both compared to most Americans, as well as considering how young (though I'm no babe) I am. I'm 26. Here's a funny thing:
I do well with travel and things abroad. Perhaps because I knew that there was an "end date", and I had a plane ticket to return home, though I wasn't longing to do so.
Fast forward to my first year of grad school... in fall of 2000, I was only moving 3 hours!! away from my family/friends in Northern California (where I've spent most of my life), and I almost lost it. I never saw a therapist, but I could have used one. You see, I was enrolled in the wrong program (which I eventually changed), but I was having the early/mid 20's bout of "what will I do with my life", etc. I talked to my parents at least once a week, not including online chats. They were always (and still are!) very supportive of me. Perhaps I was too proud to say I needed help/missed them. But by Oct/Nov, before they had come to visit me for the first time (I didn't want them coming too soon, because I really wanted to be on my own for a bit), they just spent 1 night, and before they left, they drove me to the laundromat to do my wash. As we folded my clothes, I left my sunglasses on. I was falling apart. I couldn't help it, and having them there just made me sadder. They stayed another night, which was wonderful, and said all I had to do was say the word and they'd move me back in a second. But something in me just told me to keep it up. I did. But that first semester was really hard. I'd survived being overseas for months on end, never shedding a tear. Yet I couldn't be 3 hours away from them? Go figure. It even got so bad that I was holding a pair of scissors in my hand, hiding in the dark in my closet. Thank goodness I'm a wuss and have no courage to do anything *to* hurt myself. But I had *never ever* even THOUGHT of anything like that. I was just so alone, even though I had "friends" in classes, etc.
So there is no moral, but just so you know: I write this, having finished that degree, from Scotland. I'm just finishing up (yet another lol) a degree, and plan to return to the US later this summer/fall, and I'm trying to get a job for the fall (hopefully teaching). I survived an entire year away, and there has not been a moment of homesickness.
This is the first time I've ever openly discussed this, I don't want to shock anyone who might know me, but it's odd how depression can affect people. I, too, cried, and just didn't know how to express it.
I'm glad you're doing better. Blessings upon you. Ginger

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