Two days after my return to America, I was bed ridden for 24 hours and asleep for about 90% of it. I suspected that my body and brain needed to shut down from the overload from you know, the drastic life event and all, but when a fever was introduced and achy muscles crept in, it was more than that. I had excruciating stomach cramps for the remaining days and am recovering today. With the exception of yesterday, I toughed it out at work. A fellow camper had similar symptoms and was diagnosed with campylobacter, a bacterial infection acquired from contaminated food. Mystery solved.
Not only was I feeling chronic stomach pain and fatigue, my heart is hurting. The first phone call I made was to Beca. She asked me how it felt to be back and I could only cry. I was now 13 hours away from my family, like a flashback of 24 years ago but I’m conscious of it this time. The tears went away when Daryl plopped down next to me. He drove 5 hours to pick me up and I couldn’t be happier to see him and later, my parents. But after a week of being back home, I feel empty. My heart is hurting; I miss my birth family so much. I have always missed for my whole life, but it is a completely differently feeling now. I’ve been chatting with my sisters, both in Korean and English so we can practice our second languages, and my parents have emailed me letters I can barely understand because they used Google translate. I know it was pretty deep instead of our light and happy times together. The constant reminder of our inability to community brings me tears of frustration and helplessness.
I was walking in the parking lot to my car this evening and I questioned myself, “what am I doing here?” I never felt more isolated than right now. I have no motivation or interest in anything. I’m just having an off period. Like everyone else in the world, I get these once in a while. I’ll get back in the groove again and before you know it, I’ll be back in Korea.