It’s Friday morning. I’m up around 8 because my parents are on their way to pick me up and I still have to pack a lot of things up…I get everything settled. Everything is packed and now it’s just a waiting game. As I sit around my room I remember all of the memories that were made here. I remember all the laughter, the anger, the tears, the panic. I remember the feelings of sheer joy, the sheer terror, the sheer panic. I remember feeling full of hope and I remember feeling hopeless.
I didn’t want to leave but I know in the long run this summer will be really good for me.
While waiting for them to arrive, I walk around the building and land in the TV lounge on the first floor. I sit and stare at my phone, without turning the TV on, for 15-20 minutes before I head back up stairs. All the while I’m filled with anxiety. My thoughts are racing. What happens if all my stuff can’t fit in the car? What if my parents don’t like/agree with how I packed? What if they are disappointed in me? What if I’m not the person they expect? Everybody is so excited for me to go home, what if when I get there they get upset because I’m not the same cheerful, excitable person I was before?
Don’t get me wrong. I love my family and I’ve missed them like crazy but I don’t want to spend every waking moment with them. While it can be said that I’ve definitely matured and been able to talk more fluidly with new people, it can also be said that I’m more reserved, I’ve become accustomed to being by myself. I’m, protective of my feelings but at the same time very stupid when it comes to them.
When they arrive, we begin to pack things up and we do have difficulty fitting everything in and they do disagree with how I’ve packed things. Eventually though we get everything in and I get checked out of my room by an RA. I didn’t sleep well the night before so I’m exhausted and fall asleep in the car. When we get to the house we begin to unpack right away. Unpacking the car was easy but things took a turn for the worse when everything was brought up to my room.
You see, everything was everywhere. There were boxes and bags, and everything had to be; unpacked, put away, sorted. It was completely, totally overwhelming. Luckily my mom was there to help me organize it and with a little time and deep breathing I got through it. Everything is still messy but now it’s manageable and my chest doesn’t tighten up, and my head doesn’t start to spin when I walk in there.
I’m constantly on edge, but things will get better. I’m sure of that, it may just be a while.