Sometimes I get sick and tired of people telling me that my feelings aren't valid because "you're going to England!" As if somehow, the fact that I'm leaving this place makes everything better. As if somehow, the fact that I'm going off to a place they've only dreamed of negates all of the emotions that threaten to overwhelm me and send me toppling over the edge.
Last night, my boyfriend said that he would kill to be in my position. He would give anything to be able to have this opportunity. But he went on to say that if he could, he would be angry that I let fear overwhelm me to the point that I become paralysed. Nine months of being told this, and I finally exploded. Throughout my whole life, starting back in elementary school, my teachers always marked on my report cards that I had "great potential", if only I would "apply myself". I could never figure out what that meant. I always gave all of my academic work my all. I threw all of my emotional energy into friendships. So what more could I do? It wasn't until late middle school that I was diagnosed with depression and it wasn't until I moved to a new high school that I was diagnosed with anxiety, ADHD, and a learning disability. It was revealed that I have a processing disorder, which makes doing math problems and (often) communicating difficult. It takes me a lot longer than the average person to process what's being said and to respond. Basically, when I speak with someone, I need time to think about what they've said before I can respond, which results in a delay when in conversation. Most people would never know, as I've learned to live with it. Much like writing papers, there's a little bit of wiggle room called "fluff" when responding, but sometimes, I still end up going off on tangents quite a bit due to the ADHD and the fact that I skip around in conversation a lot or else I lose my thoughts.
Ultimately, what this results in, is that I take a very, very long time to process my emotions. Things like grief, I push aside until they erupt and I no longer have a choice. In a way, leaving for England brings along a form of grief. I'm leaving all of my friends, my family, my puppy, and a place where I am comfortable. Here, I know where I'm going and where everything is, I know I can just drive 10 minutes and be surrounded by good friends, and I don't really have to worry about finances. I have excellent food prepared for me by my lovely parents, and they always make sure that I don't go wanting. And I am choosing to leave all of this and go off to a country where the only strong similarity is that we speak the same basic language (but still, some of that slang trips me up, and I'm headed up north where the accents can be a lot thicker). I've been to England once and I fell in love, or I wouldn't be headed back. I'm getting a degree that will look epic on my CV. I'm about to meet some amazing people. But the emotions and feelings that I should have dealt with when I first received an acceptance letter, I pushed aside to be dealt with at a later date. And as Friday looms in the near future, I find that it's harder and harder to put on the front that I've so carefully constructed, and I need to be able to process these emotions. I need to be able to trust my friends to let me have moments where I bitch and complain and say that I don't want to go. It's not that I don't want to go, it's that I don't want to leave you. So if you tell me that I have no right to complain because I'm going places and England is awesome, fair point on the latter, but I'm going to feel like you probably aren't worth staying in contact with if you can't see me through the hard times.
So don't try to tell me how to feel. Don't tell me that going to England makes everything better. It doesn't. Because deep down, I'm going to feel what I feel when I feel it, and these emotions are mine. Maybe I'm the only cat who knows where it's at because I'm the cat that's going to England. I'm the cat that's leaving everyone that I love behind in order to chase after my dreams like a cat chases its tail. Someday, I'll get there and I'll catch that dream and I'll be so damn proud of myself. But until then, let me process things on my own. Let me come to my own conclusions. Don't just jump right to some idea you might have that England's some cute little fairy dream land, where everything is perfect and all of my problems will go away. Everybody wants to be the cat that knows where it's at. Everybody wants to be the cat that goes to England or chases a dream or catches a break or wins at life.
But you know what? I'm the cat.
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