2004: Part 2

Looking back, I know that deep inside I knew I was in America permanently. But a lot of my behavior didn't seem to catch up to that fact. I lacked financial responsibility of any kind (which is a whole story of its own) and that made my life even more difficult, long term. I can see how in some ways, many ways, I was living like we were there for a visit, as if I was in a little bit of denial. All money made was made to be spent because there was normally a count down to when we would leave again and so much in the US simply wasn't available overseas. Recently, my mom and I were discussing some of this period of time (it's a hot topic) and she mentioned that me getting a job at that time had actually been intended to save money for college. 16 years later and that's news to me. It might seem like an obvious idea to everyone else but at the time, nothing made much sense. I was what you'd call COMPLETELY OUT TO LUNCH. I was just floundering, barely keeping my mental head above water, trying to get a grasp of my new unwanted reality. When I write "nothing made much sense," it feels like a cop out, an easy phrase to slap onto irresponsibility. But that wasn't it at all. I truthfully did not know how to wrap my head around my new environment in America. You just don't have any idea what culture shock is or what it could possibly entail until you, yourself, go through it. And even then, everyones' experience is different. When you're in the thick of it, you aren't usually aware enough to be like, "Gee whiz, I'm going through culture shock!"

And honestly, how ridiculous does it sound to an American that an American is having culture shock returning to America? I mean, do you see what I mean?

I was holding on for the thing that, in my mind, would make it all make sense: college. But even that hope didn't convince me that everything would be fine. 

To complicate things, I was in an online relationship. Note: if you are about to move cultures, do not start an online relationship. My loneliness really drove me to depend on that relationship instead of trying to reach out to the people around me. Instead of really trying to meet new people, I locked myself away, trying to find some emotional safety. Hello, codependency.

The nights leading up to school starting are a blur but I know they were full of anxiety. I do clearly remember crying the night before I was supposed to go. I cried and cried and couldn't stop. I cried and felt like an idiot. I couldn't have told you what I was so upset about. Wasn't college what everyone wanted to go to when they got out of highschool? Why did I feel so horrible, like my world was ending?

I don't remember much of the next day. Only that I did meet another (TCK) Third Culture Kid and we rode on a bus to do community service after getting moved in and it wasn't horrible. I was overwhelmed and being an introvert, by the end of the day, I just needed to not talk. I remember walking in a crowd of freshmen one of the first evenings and thinking, "WHAT...am I doing here?" I still have this nostalgia for college. This weird mental montage of what could have been. Perhaps, what should have been. But wasn't. The next few months are a blur. It was a comfort having my brother a floor away. That probably saved me. But, I was very lonely. I made friends pretty quickly but over time pushed them away. I see now that I didn't even know what I was experiencing. I didn't know how to process it, and my own aggitation spilled out onto others, at others. I am ashamed that I came out of college with no friends. I see now that I hurt the ones I had made with my isolation and inability to vocalize what I was experiencing. The thing is...when you're on the outside looking in and you see someone going through something, the automatic knee-jerk reaction is to wonder why they don't talk about it. But having been there, you just CAN'T. I don't know how to explain it. I remember China was ALWAYS on my mind. So much so, I was under the impression I never shut up about it. So, to avoid being a broken record, I did my best NOT to talk about it. Later, when I expressed my fear of talking about it excessively to some friends, they looked at me blankly and said, "...Rachel, you NEVER talk about China. We wish you would..." I was keeping so much internal without even meaning to.

I still keep in social media contact with a few people from that time in my life. But I didn't stay close. I unintentionally hurt people and was hurt by people. I didn't have any idea how to explain what I was going through. I hoped my brother would be able to help me, having gone through this before me. And he tried. But we had very different experiences and it's hard to help someone who hides away and doesn't know what they need or maybe even how to ask for or accept help. 

In the same way I had looked forward to college, I looked forward to when I'd be able to go back to China, which would more than likely be the following summer since my parents had come back and planned to stay for my first full year. Normally, the plan would be that I'd return at Christmas too. That's what my brother had usually done. But the first Christmas for me would be in America.

Unfortunately, it all would get a lot worse before it got better.

To be continued...