As of yesterday, I have officially been in Germany for a
full week. It’s strange to realize that—I didn’t, actually, until S pointed it
out. Time has been very strange for me since I’ve been here: sometimes moving
very quickly and sometimes very slowly, so at times I feel as though I’ve been
here a month already, and at other times it seems like I just got off the plane
two days ago.
In addition to marking my first week in Germany, yesterday also marked my first official Fulbright
meltdown. In the early afternoon, I left S’s apartment to get some air. I made
it as far as Rothschild Park, sat down on a bench, and without further ado
started to cry—openly, unabashedly, and in full view. It was such a relief to
finally release some of the stress and worry that had been slowly building up
in my system over the previous few days, I didn’t even care that I was drawing
glances from passers-by, outright stares in the case of children. The reality
of my situation—that I’m in Frankfurt, alone, trying to construct something at
least resembling a life out of
basically nothing— suddenly overwhelmed me, and in that moment it seemed like
there was nothing I could do but cry.
This is becoming a recurring theme in this blog, and I don’t know what to think
about that, but I felt like I was about five years old, lost in the mall and
waiting for my mom to come find me. The problem with this mindset is, of
course, that I’m not five years old,
I’m twenty-two; and my mom is definitely not
coming to find me, she’s four thousand miles away.
I did talk to my mom later, thanks to the miracle that is
Skype. I didn’t even think about what I was doing: it was late, the apartment
was empty, and before I knew it I had dialed, my mom’s face was there on the
screen, and I was crying again, this time convulsively and with gusto. Because
this is what inevitably happens whenever I talk to my mom, all of the fears and
doubts and self-recriminations that up until then been lurking unexpressed in
my mind came tumbling out: I don’t think
I can do this. I’ve already screwed everything up. I don’t know what I’m doing.
I’m scared, I’m lonely, I’m so unhappy that when you ask if I want to call the
whole thing off and come home I’m sorely, sorely tempted to say yes.
It took about an hour for my mom to talk me down off the
crazy-ledge. But eventually she did, as she always does, and now that the
storm— a “level 4 meltdown,” as my family calls it when I have these kinds of
freak-outs—has more or less passed, I’m able to see the sense in a lot of the
things she told me, even though at the time they seemed absurd and impossible.
v
Sense Nugget #1: I need to have more patience with myself. Again, I’ve only been
here for a week now, and I can’t expect everything to magically start making
sense and falling into place. I’m in a foreign country for the first time:
things are going to be confusing, and I have to stop beating myself up when I
don’t get it right away. If I take things one step at a time, assign myself one
small task to accomplish in a day (Today I’m going to get my cell phone
operational; Today I’m going to apply for my visa; Today I’m going to look into
getting a subway/bus pass; etc.) it should make the whole endeavor much more manageable.
v
Sense Nugget #2: I need to focus on what it is I’m here to do. Specifically, I need
to focus on my work at Elsa-Brändström-Schule and Bettinaschule. This is pretty
much the one thing about living in Frankfurt that I’m not worried about: I know kids, I get kids, I know I can do a good
job with kids. But that doesn’t mean I can blow it off because I’m more worried
about the blankness of my social calendar. I need to get oriented at my schools,
figure out what my responsibilities are going to be, what my schedule is going
to look like, etc. Once that’s in place—and it should start coming into focus
very soon—I will feel more grounded and more confident.
v
Sense Nugget #3: I need to be okay with asking for help. This one is tough for me
because 1.) I do expect myself,
unrealistically, to be able to do everything on my own and 2.) I’m terrified of
talking to people, especially when it involves asking them for something.
Unfortunately, as far as that’s concerned, the only thing I can really do is get over it.
v
Sense Nugget #4: I need to make the choices that are right for me. This is a BIG
one. Specifically, I think I may need to abandon the idea of living in a WG (Wohngemeinschaft, a communal living
arrangement) and look for a one-room apartment instead, even though it is more
expensive and cuts down on my opportunities to meet people. Because I am an
introvert, because social interaction exhausts and intimidates me under even
the best of circumstances, I need to be able to have space that is MINE where I can retreat and completely
recharge and not worry about what people expect from me. Otherwise I will be
crazy, unpleasant, or downright mean, and people won’t want to be friends with
me anyway.
v
Sense Nugget #5: I need to stop comparing myself to other people. This means I may
need to stop reading the blogs of other Fulbrighters for a while, at least
until I’m more comfortably situated. When I hear about how other people already
have their living situation figured out, are already meeting people and making
friends, are deliriously happy in their schools and with their lives and isn’t
everything just so wonderful and fantastic—I compare myself and my experience
with them and theirs, and this inevitably results in me hating myself because
I’m not in the same place they are yet. The fact of the matter is it may take
me more time to figure everything out than it takes other people, much as it
pains me to say so. In fact, it probably will, because everything I’m going through is new to me, not just living in
Frankfurt specifically, but living in Germany as a whole, living in a city,
living on my own—most Fulbrighters have some
experience with at least one, if not more, of the above. On the bright
side, my learning curve will in all likelihood be a lot steeper than theirs.
But the number of mistakes I make and the amount of time that I need will be a
lot greater, as well.
I wish I could fast-forward to a month or so from now, when
I’m settled into a routine and I have a place to live and I’m starting to be
more familiar with the city and the schools and the people here. I’m sure that
month-from-now Katie is probably a much happier person than right-now Katie. Or
I hope so, anyway. But unfortunately, there are no shortcuts to be had, no way
to get from right-now Katie to month-from-now Katie without existing in all the
scary/frustrating/uncomfortable/discouraging moments that stand in between.
Close your eyes, take a few breaths. One day you’ll look back on this. Everything happens.
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