I’m anticipating having a difficult and miserable time abroad because I have spent the last five weeks receding into my anti-social and depressive shell and the shock of all the change is probably going to stop my heart and break me down. But I feel like when I try to express this people judge me or blow me off because this is supposed to be some magical experience, and while I do know I should check my privilege at the door and realize I’m both super lucky and dramatically pessimistic by nature, I wish it was acceptable to be publicly afraid. Yeah, I’ve sort of been through this before, but the difference freshman year was I could reliably call home and someone was still making me food and everyone else around me everywhere I looked, at school or from home, was going through it too. Now while I struggle to make friends I’ll have to go online to see everyone at home being happy and comfortable and that is scary and even more lonely than my current loneliness, because at least what I’m in right now is self-imposed.
But I guess everything I’m feeling is invalid because “You’re so lucky! It’s gonna be fun! Don’t talk about your fear because the only acceptable state is excitement!” Well, friend, I’m at the point where I will gladly sell you my spot abroad so I can take the semester off to complete my transformation into fearful, fat, dependent bum, if you’re interested.