My Sabbatical: Catching You Up

      i haven't blogged in a while obviously (if you read the date stamps). It's not because i haven't traveled anywhere. i have actually. i've gone to Washington D.C.; Alexandria, Virginia; Hyannis, Cape Cod; Sarasota, Florida; Purchace, New York; and most recently, Chambersburg and Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. 

     So that's not why i haven't blogged. Not to give excuses -- or things that might sound like excuses -- i've been going through some tough stuff in the past year and a half. 

     This isn't me complaining. Just get that out of your head right now. i am not a complainer. Especially in writing that will be public. Ugh, i hate that. 

     But, lucky for you, i'll give you the short version. You're welcome. 

The Beginning

     At the beginning of last school year, i was hanging with my boyfriend in my dorm. We were just watching some TV. And, i had my first major panic attack. First of all, of course, it was scary. It scared me out of my freakin' mind. My heart seemed to be beating like a bass drum to a speeded-up DJ mix. i couldn't breathe. My breaths came in shallow, jagged drags. i couldn't breathe deeply, which made me feel i wasn't getting enough oxygen. i was hyperventilating. And i was sobbing. My body was twitching all over; my feet kicked outward and rubbed over one another; my hands didn't know what to do with themselves, so they fidgeted and touched everything around me, trying to anchor me. Every now and then, my chest would cave in on itself, and i'd duck my head, trying to curl up in a ball. But, just as soon as that happened, i would stretch out, reaching for my boyfriend to help me.

     And, my eyes. My eyes looked into my boyfriend's eyes without seeing, and they flitted all around my peripheral vision, searching for a way out, a solution and to no avail.

      i felt like it was trying to escape whatever was coming over me. 

     And i had no idea what was going on. i was petrified, spasm-ing, hyperventilating, and i had no idea what was happening to me. 

The Prologue

     Well, before that first panic attack, a couple of red flags appeared that didn't set off alarms to me because i just figured i had to power through it. 

1. i didn't want to go to college for my senior year. And i always loved school growing up. My family and my (at the time) new boyfriend were at home.(For the record, he is my present boyfriend still.) And school was three hours away. But i knew that i didn't want to go even more than usual. i just didn't have another reason why. 

2. i talked to my boyfriend every night on the phone before bed while at school. (That wasn't the red flag.) We told each other about our days and talked for a while after that. The red flag was that sometimes, i couldn't hang up with him without getting very upset. i mean, i'd be sobbing. He would stay on the phone with me until i pulled myself together and was able to hang up, or he would just stay on the phone with me until i or both of us fell asleep. it became more and more frequent that i would cry myself to sleep. 

3. i'd get really upset when my boyfriend fell asleep before talking to me, which i knew was not his fault, so i wasn't mad at him or anything. i was just frustrated and i felt lonely, so i would cry. And i would call him, hoping to wake him up just to hear his voice before bed. 

     Now, before you go thinking, "This is a case of Crazy Girlfriend Syndrome, and nothing else." Trust me, i was totally with you! I thought i was nuts! i didn't want to be one of those "clingy, helpless" girlfriends. i hated myself for it. 

     i hated myself slightly less when i found out that it wasn't exactly my fault. 

After the Beginning, But Not Quite the Middle

     i went to the therapist at school. My boyfriend convinced me to go after the panic-attack-that-i-didn't-know-was-a-panic-attack. I know, you're probably like "Why the frickity-frack did this gal need convincing?!" (Sorry if i didn't get your accent quite right.) 

     Anyway, she was awesome. i was super nervous at first, but she ended up being fantastic and really helping me while i was at school. After a few sessions, she diagnosed me with severe anxiety, with a side of panic attacks, and a scoop of depression. She explained the difference between an anxiety attack and a panic attack. 

     i got scared again. Because i realized something: i was having anxiety attacks every day. They were constant; i was in a constant state of tension, my heart racing, and shallow breathing. i thought i was out of shape because i had to stop and catch my breath every time i went up the stairs, even though i had been religious about doing the workouts i was assigned for varsity softball. i was relieved i wasn't as much of a fat bastard that i thought i was, but i was scared to know that anxiety could do that to me. 

     And, i realized something else: i was having panic attacks almost every day.  

Interjection: Before you start thinking that this is just going to be a depressing story of my doctor's visits and sucky life in between those doctor's visits, you're wrong. i've found out that anxiety and depression are kinda common, especially in my generation. (i'm in my early 20's if that helps.) If this can help anyone you know, whether that's a parent with a child or young adult who sounds like this could be happening to them, this is for them. i want to put into words what is really hard to. And i'm not some hero or big shot for doing this. This has been something i've had to try to explain to my therapists, my doctors, my parents, and some of my friends. it's scary to do that. And, it's hard.

     For a while, i didn't want to tell anyone. i was totally in denial. i was narrow-minded and thought shrinks were for crazy people. Then, it seemed like i was one of those crazy people. i kept picturing One Flew from the Cuckoo's Nest. But instead of Jack Nicholson, i pictured myself as the Native American or someone. 

Spoiler Alert: i wasn't, haven't been, and am not. In case you were worried. 

i will continue . . .  

i am . . . not crazy.      Just FYI. 

Post Ireland

12:50 P.M. Dublin Time
9-27-15

(i wrote this entry down in a journal i took with me abroad. Actually, it is one of the only excursions i have notes for written down. i didn't have/ take the time for most other places. Now, i might disagree with how i portray myself in this, but i like how it shows what i thought of myself then. i have changed since then. Or maybe i underestimated myself. Maybe both.)

   I'm sitting in the airport, waiting for our gate to open so we (me & Jess) can board. Just thinking about the weekend we had, it seems so crazy, so unreal, so unlike me. Well, parts of it seem unlike me. Getting to see The Book of Kells, Trinity College, the Irish countryside, the Cliffs of Moher, that seems like me. i loved the cobblestone streets and the preppy style. There was NO shortage of cute boys either! i loved the friendly people! i just can't believe i went!
   The food was great! Although, Jess pointed out this morning that we hardly had ANY vegetables while here! All meat and potatoes! :)

(To Be Continued . . .)

In an Airplane

On the Way to Ireland

11:38 A.M. Barca Time
9-24-15

   The clouds seemed to hang on strings, suspended weightlessly, looking as if they were put there on purpose; as if each's placement was selected individually like props on the world's stage.

Breakfast Chats and Bike Paths

Monday, 7-25-16

   i had breakfast with a friend yesterday. We caught up with each other as we ate and then went for a walk. All the time, we discovered more about each other’s newer selves, which hadn’t existed the last time we talked.

   We talked about confidence in ourselves – or a lack thereof. We talked of school and relationships and finding ourselves. i talked about Europe and my adventures and how it changed me. And no one back home really has a connection to that Me – or version of Me. We talked about our new selves as just being upgrades of the old Us. The Me 2.0.

   But i don’t feel confidence in this new Me. i sometimes feel like the Me 2.0 is rejected by my old friends. They are happy with the version of Me they already have.

   He told me that i am – i should know – beautiful. i was ashamed to think i was surprised by that.        Not just because my friend, who i wouldn’t expect to say that . . .

   He said, “Everyone can know you can do it, but until you know it . . .” and he gestured at his head.

And it’s funny how it takes someone else telling you something about yourself to realize it. He told me, “It sounds like you are on the verge – and are ready for – an adventure and to take on the world.”

 That’s quite the plan, i thought.

  i am.

July Reflection

Neymar and Messi Twinning

7-18-16

     I pulled my Neymar Jr. shirt out of the wash and hung it up to dry. I thought about hanging it on Cristina’s laundry lines in Barcelona. Then I figured out that that that was probably a false memory because I only had the shirt at the end of my semester.

It’s fading already.

     Jess came over for my dinner party this weekend, and we both wore our jerseys together. Seeing the Neymar jersey on the hanger in my own laundry room made me think about what Jess and I shared while we were away. We may not have been the closest of friends while we were away, but we are staying pretty close this summer (knock on wood!). I’m very excited about that. We shared something that none of my friends back home shared with me. We will always be tied together like that. None of them – my home friends – can understand. Some of them even seemed to turn their noses up at who I was abroad when they heard the stories.

     But Jess only knew the Abroad Me. Despite living only an hour from each other at home, we met in the same place approximately 3,700 miles away. With that distance from home, we were able to be a different versions of ourselves – maybe in good ways, maybe in bad. Possibly, Jess saw me at my most reckless, and possibly, I saw her at her most vulnerable. Our friendship now, I think, is stronger because of it: because of the different places we explored together, because of being homesick together, because of being lost together.

     I didn’t find myself in Europe. I was looking too hard. But I don’t think I lost myself there either. I think what I did in Europe helped me find out some – and only some because I have more discovering to do – of the things I can be. 

i am . . . forgetting and discovering.

The Sunset on My Journey & After Coming Back . . .

The Sunset on My Journey

   On the last night of my fall semester, i did two things:

1. i met up with one of the few locals i met while in Barcelona, Guillem. We wandered back over to the square he took me the last time we had met. (Ironically, "last time" was also the first time we had met, and this would be our last while - for now.) We sat and talked for over an hour, and i really am confident that i have found a friend who i will keep. *More on this story later.*
   (i know, i sound like a Lifetime movie. Well, get your tortilla chips 'cause it's about to go to a whole 'nother level of cheesy here.)

2. i saw the sunset with Chels, Sofie, and Jess.
We sat on a relatively grassy hill next to Barceloneta. It was amazing: right on the beach, over the silhouettes of buildings, a palm tree in front of us. Chels was getting all sentimental and kept repeating how much she would miss us ("so much"). We watched the sunset, which is an experience i don't think i will ever get tired of.

   Chels was getting sentimental again, leaning her bushy blonde head on my shoulder. i laughed out loud, both at Chels and because i realized something. i said, "You know, in literature, this would be highly symbolic." ('Cause that's the kind of dork i am.)
   "Really?" she asked.
   "Yeah, really," i said. "The ending of a day, the end of our semester."
   "Huh." Then, typical Chels, she got distracted and decided to play some music.
    The sun was already behind the buildings and the light was orange from behind them. She put her phone in the grass and got up to dance on the hill in front of the silhouettes of the hotels, including The W, and buildings on the skyline. She sang along to the lyrics, not caring one bit who might see her. i love that about Chels. i decided to get up with her. It was contagious! She just looked like she was having so much fun. i didn't know what to do with my awkward-dancing self to her American pop music, but it didn't matter.
   We danced to some music that Chels played on her phone. Sofie looked on, smiling. When Jess came, she laughed, saying, "Of course you two are dancing."
   Yeah, i was dancing. i danced with Chels like no one could see us - i highly doubt anyone was really watching. i played a Hunter Hayes song for her ("Anything About You") and she liked it. We danced on that semi-grassy hill over the beach as the light and colors (symbolically) faded from the sky. And in that time, i felt great! No other way to put it. i felt on top of the world! i felt lucky. i felt . . . unbelievably and overwhelmingly content. And i didn't want it to go.
   We talked about it on that hill that night. i had a hard time - we all did - wrapping our heads around the fact that we were all in this place together now . . . but when we went home, we would all be separated - flung across the U.S. into different states, into different time zones, onto different coasts. We wouldn't be able to see each other for a late lunch or study together or even be at the same school. It made home not feel so much like home. And it would be hard to see each other again. We didn't talk about that. That was too difficult.


   Now that my trip abroad is over, you might think I'd be done with this blog, that, like the sunset,  the time had passed. But, i want to see what other adventures i can record. i never talked about the excursions i took, and i have tons of stories. i don't want to lose those. So, it might not be as frequent, but i do want to keep going with this. i started it, and i would hate to see it end before i completed it.
   i am planning on going back through my study abroad trip, beginning probably with the Sitges trip since that was only Sept, 20th - about a week into my semester. i never finished that entry, talking about that night. So, that's my new beginning.
   i wrote a short story using some of my experiences while i was abroad, but it was more difficult than i thought it would be. It was hard to revisit, relive. Bittersweet. As you can imagine.
   i thought of using my study abroad experience and turning it into a book, and if i ever get to, it would be helpful to have all this stuff written down somewhere. Jess asked me, "Do you even remember everything?" Well, no. No. i don't. And i won't. But i remember more now than i will in a year, or two years, or more. i need to write down what i do know. And, i'm hoping you'll come along with me. Maybe you can't do the whole trip or maybe you'll stop in here and there, and that's fine. i will enjoy the company when i can get it.

My Sort-of Epilogue:

How We Became "The Gal Pals"

i imagine having a conversation with The Gal Pals going something like this:

Me: How did we become The Gal Pals, again? When was that name brought up?

(Beat)

Sofie: i think Jess mentioned it. . . ?

Jess: Wait, i think it was Josh . . .

Josh: Well, i had said to Jess -

Chels: (just tuning in although she's been sitting there the whole time) Huh? What?


Yeah, . . . that's us.
i am . . . a Gal Pal.

Last Days of WWOOT

WWOOT Day 5: 

   Thursday. So, like i said before, Thursday was technically cancelled. Lea had a callback that day anyhow, so she met us at the restaurant later. You're probably like "What restaurant?! Thursday was cancelled." Well, the daytime plans were cancelled. The nighttime got re-arranged. Nighttime, daytime. Nighttime, daytime. See the difference?
   So, since Thursday was supposed to be Ma's day, she picked the restaurant. She has been wanting to go to Marco's Italian restaurant in Peabody for a while apparently. (She was obsessed with Teresa's Italian restaurant in Middleton for soooo long, so I'm just glad we might have found her a new place to drag my dad to.)
   The service was excellent and the food was delicious! No complaints here. They let us take our time to wait for Lea. We had wine and lamb and veal and mozzarella and tomatoes and pasta and dessert - all scrum-dilly-icious as Dad says.

WWOOT Day 6: Final Day of WWOOT

  Ma warned me ahead of time that the event for this night was for Lea - mostly just for Lea. In translation: you might not like it as much.
   I got defensive about this in my head because i said to myself, What could Lea enjoy that i wouldn't enjoy? AND Ma and Dad have to sit through whatever it is, too.  . . .  A play? A musical? I doubted both - and besides, i would enjoy them. Basically, i had no idea what we were doing.

   We went to a fancy-ish restaurant at the Copley Plaza Hotel, the Long Oak Bar. Everything was "eh" in the sense that if you're at the Copley and your food costs more than some of my scholarships are worth, it better be dang fantastic. And it was just ok. The service was nothing compared to Abe and Louie's or even Marco's.

   We had to walk to our next place. On the way, we walked through part of - i think - Northeastern's campus and we saw what i called "a castle." It might have actually been a cathedral / church, but it looked like a castle with the high central turret and surrounding stone walls.
   After the castle, everyone on the sidewalk was dressed pretty fancily, and we crossed the street to stand in front of a big marquis that said The Boston Pops. Oh God, i thought, What the heck are we doing here? 
    Now i understood why this was more a thing for Lea. i saw a big sign with the concerts they would perform this season, including concerts with famous singers. Looking back, i feel kinda dumb  because i hadn't remembered that The Pops do concerts with people - you know, people who sing.
   The first half of the show, i almost fell asleep. It was composed (pun intended) of a cello piece played by an Algerian sophomore from Berkley (i think) and a Star Wars tribute to John Williams, which was recorded. When i told Dad, he sarcastically asked, "Why?" during intermission.
   i said, "Gee, i don't know, you just fed me and put me in a warm, dimly-lit room and played classical music to me. Yeah, i have no idea . . ."
   He laughed.
   For the second half of the show, the amazingly-talented Broadway star Sutton Foster took the stage with the Pops, singing "Singing in the Rain," "I Get a Kick out of You," "Anything Goes," and "Gimme, Gimme," among other tunes. It was outstanding! The music, por supuesto, was clear and clean and - i can only explain it like this: it was as though the vibrations of the music moved through you - even sitting in the balcony, we could feel the music tingling through our muscles. Foster's singing was breath-taking - literally. I found myself forgetting to breathe whenever she sang a particularly long belt or sweeping high note.

   On the walk back to the car, we got ice cream at Cold Stone. It was the - well,  the cherry on top!

i am . . . now a Pops fan. :)