ForgiveLiveMoveOn

Hi. I lied.

When I finished that last post, I decided I wanted to write more. I don’t want to write about facts right now, so this may get philosophical and/or personal. Young ones, cover your eyes. Это шутка.

Listening to Mat Kearney’s “Moving On” and it feels like soft cool hand soap on my skin. I’m digging it.

I talked about this with my mom and sister over Skype, but I also wanted to have it on record for myself so I’m going to rehash it a bit.

Perhaps the most difficult thing about my time here is not that I’m alone physically (which I quite enjoy), but that I’m alone in my head. If I don’t Skype with Alec or my family, then I will go days without speaking fluent English. This is much more taxing on your brain, being, and body than I expected. I have had to come to the resolution that no one here is ever going to know the real Stephanie, since Russian Stephanie (the person people see here) is only a fraction of the person I am. Unfortunately, Russian Stephanie is slow to process statements, make jokes, and speak off the cusp. Of course I have made friends and acquaintances here, but no one will ever really know me since I can’t express myself the way I want to. It’s frustrating like you wouldn’t believe.

More than that, there are no breaks. Abroad we lived with Russians and had all our classes in Russian, but after all of that, we still had the option of seeing other Americans and venting about cultural differences or language struggles. Here that is gone. I have such respect for expats. Kristin brought up a really poignant example regarding the boarding school we went to… I’ll try to explain the analogy here.

At that school and at that time, Chinese students sat together, Middle Eastern students sat together, and Spanish/Italians sat together. While in school, I remember thinking, like many others, “Why do they seclude themselves? Don’t they want to be exposed to American culture and make American friends?” Finally, almost ten years after first matriculating, I understand.

People want people of their own kind. Being at school in America and having to conduct yourself in English must have been EXHAUSTING for those 15 and 16 year olds! I cannot imagine the physical and mental struggle they must have had to endure to be able to function and not just go insane. We gravitate to our own because we are comfortable there. Korean students weren’t purposefully cutting themselves off; they simply wanted a break from their “American” alter ego. How frustrating it is to portray a different version of yourself.

So that’s that. The hardest part about all of this. And even me explaining it to you is not going to make you truly understand what it’s like until you yourself experience it. Most of you won’t, so you’ll never really understand.

Another thing I’ve been thinking about is death. This sounds very morbid, but I swear it isn’t in my particular context. Someone very close to me lost their mother to cancer three years ago and now the father is getting remarried. Before this person, I was also very close to someone who had lost their mother to cancer 8 years ago. A lot of my friends (not as close as these two) have lost parents as well.

How do you stand in solidarity without grabbing the posters and slogans and “pain” for yourself? How do you stand in solidarity and be selfless?

Every person and grieving process is different, and I’m presumptuous to think that I would have a role in that at all. After all, I’m nobody. I have no power and no place in any of it. I know this person in the aftermath of death – not in its precursor, its occurence, or even in its immediate effects. Because I do not share this experience, I will never truly understand (as I just finished explaining earlier). No matter how many times I sit and listen or am a shoulder to cry on, I will never understand.

Maybe that is just something you have to accept.

I also can’t imagine having to come to terms and “accept” that reality. Thinking about the situation, what happened, or how you feel doesn’t change the reality of it. It won’t bring her back. Both people (Mr 3 years and Mr 8 years) said that a lot to me.

“Forgive, and then live and move on.”

I’m telling you, this song is killer.

Anyways. Feeling very grateful for the life I’ve lived thus far. Too many young people carry battle wounds larger than themselves.

Lo siento for the grey mood :/ It’s also grey outside :/

Time for a bath and Grey’s Anatomy. Love to all.