2004: Part 3

Sometimes, there is no constant in your life anymore. And I think when you lose that (or lose sight of it), that is when everything usually all goes to hell.

I had been hanging on to the belief that China was still my home, still a part of my life. I'd be able to go back and that wouldn't be too far off. 

I remember a few things happening around the same time but can't remember if they actually happened close together or if they're simply the few memories from this period that stand out so I mentally mash them next to each other. I kind of feel they didn't happen consecutively. 

My grandma died. It was long expected but that doesn't mean it was easy. Then I remember my parents finally faced the facts that financially, they would not be able to return to China and would no longer be able to live there. Finally, I remember my parents urging me to drop out of college. I'll unpack these individually, as they are both heavy topics (ALL THREE are heavy but one was not a surprise while the other two were) that feel kind of like the opposite sides of a yoke (the kind oxen wear across their necks), balanced with both in place but quick to throw off the equilibrium if one fell off.

I don't remember much moving forward, to be honest. Which tells me I may have been worse off mentally than I can even understand. I don't remember too much of the conversation, when my mom told me the news: they wouldn't be going back. Which meant I was stuck. I was stuck in America. No escaping now. I do remember it was a heated conversation and I felt stuck already. I felt like I had no where to go, just to be alone for some privacy. I remember pacing this bit of grass, arguing with her over it and feeling helpless. Now, I was stuck here. Later, (the only reason I know that is because I remember one being day and the other being night), I remember going out onto this balcony area. I needed privacy, to cry in peace without eyes on me. But ironically, the only place I could think of to go was the balcony and it was surrounded by dorm windows. I cried and cried and my floor "mom" heard me and came to check on me. Through blubbering agony, I tried to explain the best I could in as few words as possible. And even though she didn't really know what I was talking about, she took the effort to pray for me and comfort me and for that, I'll never forget her. 

I was stuck now. Nowhere to go. No way to get home. My online boyfriend who I'd assumed would want to meet me once I  was state-side didn't want to meet me yet (and it would have been THE WORST TIME to meet anyone anyway!!!) and I didn't love college, although it was beginning to feel a little more stable.

But college isn't made for stable. It's not made to be a stabilization ground for adjustment. It's for education. And I was just NOT there yet.

So, my parents urged me to drop out. I didn't know where I was going with my education (no solid major or focus or plan) and money was not working out for school either. I was racking up normal debt on top of school debt. It made zero sense. I remember I fought them on this. It felt, in some ways, like a second rug being pulled out from under me. China was gone so I thought, I'll survive with college. Then that was going away too. Eventually, I saw the light and understood. So, some friends and I made a plan; we'd all get a place to live together. It seemed like the perfect solution. I'd still be connected through friends at school, I'd be close by to see other friends, I'd get to live my little dream of what being an "American" single adult was, living with friends and working and it would all shake into place. Just like the show, "Friends," which I'dseen a handful of times when I had bought a bootleg copy of a season.

My parents thought it was a good idea. We found this cute house and got moved in. I felt independent and absolutely TERRIFIED. I couldn't tell you how long we lived there. I have no idea. I remember having some good friendships but inside, I was slowly dying. My dad had told me not to get a job so I didn't (still have no idea where that came from or why or why I agreed). I didn't have anything to fill my former "class time" with so I was alone. A LOT. I have tidbits of memories, little snippets of fun times and then MAJOR ANXIETY and then fun times and then PANIC. 

Long story short, I remember getting more and more aggitated and aggravated with everything and everyone. About things I normally wouldn't have really cared about. One day, I remember just losing it about my roommates not cleaning up the dishes and then the sink backed up and couldn't be used at all. I started feeling really ill and shaky and realized I hadn't eaten so I went to find something. On the way to the fridge, I decided to have some coffee. Then I stressed some more and began feeling sicker. I realized I still hadn't eaten. I better get on that. Oh, I haven't had coffee today. On and on this repeated. I finally was on the phone with my mom, freaking out, and she could tell something was NOT right. She finally commanded me to get on a ferry and come home to their house, which was a relief to be told to do (and a relief to know they had a house to go to, which they must have just moved into). On the way, I felt nauseous and dizzy on the bus. I stopped for a Starbucks...and realized I hadn't eaten anything all day. And had nothing but coffee. And had been completely unaware of it. That was the point I understood something was wrong. And I needed some help.

To be continued...