BRB

So Anne picked up a shaky me and all the belongings that had been at my parent’s house because, no, I STILL haven’t unpacked from Argentina. Naturally, by this point, I have already analyzed the situation at least twice, which is enough time for me to mourn the loss of my plans to buy boots for skiing the next day and make some “realistic” diagnoses. I come to the conclusion that I am probably losing my mind and a dormant case of Asperger’s is now wrenching its way up through what used to be the fertile soil of normal social interactions. This conclusion is based on the fact that my mind is routinely racing about, oh, a million miles an hour. In a matter of seconds, it would not be uncommon for me to attempt sweeping, while making a grocery list, planning a reunion, remembering I need to write letters, construct a primitive blueprint for a portable chicken coop, and try to remember the lyrics to the song of an obscure Canadian band. I consistently have to remind myself to be present, to go through those little exchanges make like “how is work” or “how is your family”, that I enjoy the company of the people I’m around, and that I enjoy it more when I’m not wondering if “La Bamba” is played GCF or GFC while standing around a veggie tray. I blame the accident on this spacey-ness. What was wrong with me, after all, that I didn’t see that car in time?

I usually call G Dash (she always blogs about people with their first letter and a dash, so I’m K-, but G dash is infinitely more “gangsta”—a quality I value in a blog) in these scenarios. Our conversations are frequently like “that one bag” that has been around for ages, and keeps reappearing at different relatives’ houses every Christmas. We just recycle the same advice one told the other months ago. Thus after several minutes of me blurting out things like, “I’m pretty sure I’m going crazy” or “What is wrong with me” or “it might be Autism”. We enter Phase I—Let Me Remind You about Yourself. This is the phase where the listener reminds the one melting down about basic pieces of their personality that are glaringly obvious to everyone else. In this case, it is the fact that I always have a rough time transitioning from abroad. I tricked myself. Really well this time. I jumped right into Christmas and parties and visits and…and…and. I thought that since I wasn’t angry like I was after Costa Rica that I must be fine. I even suggested to others that a struggle might happen “eventually”, little realizing that I was/am in the thick of it.

We soon moved on to Phase II—I Offer for Your Consideration…The Obvious! In this case, The Obvious is that I made some major life changes while I was away. I changed all my rhythms—menstrual, eating, sleeping, days off, working, resting, etc. That alone is a big deal. Furthermore, something inside me committed, in a no-turning-back kind of way, to living a more sustainable life. This is a limitless idea. Something I could work on the whole rest of my life and never be satisfied, if I chose not to be. (Damn right I split that infinitive.) I shared every minute of entire days, many, many days with people enormously different from myself and there’s no WAY I was unchanged by that. I made a commitment to live my whole life differently, even if I have no idea, mostly, what that means. I just know it will influence how/where/what I drive, what I eat, where I work, what I throw away, what I wear, what I buy, who I date, what lights I turn on, etc. A reader in Portugal could discern that any kind of major change is bound to incite an uprising of glitches elsewhere.

In Phase IIb we discuss another obvious point—I’m an Introvert. That means that when you could smoke salmon on the fumes coming out of my overworked brain, I’m going to withdraw. When I am thinking about a million things, my brain, out of sheer self-preservation, is going to shut down, often at untimely moments. Like when it could be doing things like, oh, noticing stopped cars in front of me. G Dash pointed out that maybe what my body needs is an amount of introspection that I have currently deemed excessive. I think this is true, as part of the picture. But I know that I need to be around people as much as I need to be alone. Which brings us to…

Phase III—And You Might Also Consider. People change! I changed. People at home changed. And coming back, even if I’ve done it before, means going through that awkward process of reconfiguration. Figuring out which relationships still work. Which ones support the changes I’m attempting to make. Which ones can weather the grey area. Which ones somehow are still the same no matter how many continents I go to. Which ones really care and which ones are just nice to spend an afternoon with. I suppose much of this was obvious to everyone around me even before I left B.A. But I’m putting this out there for several reasons. 1) I don’t want it rattling around in my brain. Per my last metaphor, I am already barbecuing, I don’t need bowling going on, too. 2) To explain that if I’m not talkative, this is not necessarily indicative of discontent. 3) If I don’t call, feel free to call me instead, I’ve probably just forgotten about my phone. 4) And to the people who have those open-ended, toss-ideas-around, listen-to-me-rant, or ask-me-questions-about-xyz…may your blessings multiply sevenfold.