Homesick

I’ve been thinking about the definition of “homesick” lately. When I was a freshman in college, I had a roommate named Melissa. Melissa was a nice girl, but she suffered from the worst case of homesickness that I’ve ever seen. She was constantly on the phone with her boyfriend back home, and didn’t spend a single weekend on campus. As soon as her last class was over on Friday… Bam! She was one the highway speeding back home. During the week, she was miserable. While the rest of us were busy going to parties, classes, and hanging out in the dorms together, she would stay in our room, mopey and sad. She dropped out after a year. Even though her hometown was less than an hour away, the separation was just too much for her.


I always felt sorry for Melissa. I wished that she was more up for adventure, and that she was more willing to try new things, meet new people, and just enjoy her new surroundings. I thought she was being silly and melodramatic. I vowed never to be homesick like her.

But here I am, feeling it anyway.

It’s not like I have my bags packed, or am ready to call it quits. I’m still enjoying the adventure out here. It’s just that lately I’ve been feeling pretty nostalgic for my life back home.

Movies, garage sales, dinner with friends, auctions… Everything that was a big part of my leisure time back home is now suddenly gone. True, those things have been replaced with travel and exploring new experiences (which is good), but I don’t feel like I’ve gotten into my own personal comfort zone yet. And sometimes, I just want the day to go by without having to learn a new skill or feeling like a fish out of water. Even the act of driving to the grocery store by myself is a challenge that I have to psyche myself up for. It’s exhausting. I’m homesick for the easy conveniences of life back home.

I think my homesickness is compounded by the fact that Matt’s been working a lot, and I’m feeling a little lonely. Frankie is a lot of fun to hang out with, but sometimes I crave an adult conversation. Every time I’m out and about in Maryport I try to be friendly and talk to the people I cross paths with. The locals tend to look at me with astonished curiosity, like an animal from the zoo that just suddenly started to speak. It’s not that anyone is mean. Quite the opposite. But, as one woman said to me yesterday at a local barbeque, “What are you doing here… Are you lost?”

But, I can’t really figure out to engage anyone in a real conversation. And even if I did, what are the odds that they would want to talk about something that I would think is fun, like the differences between Australia’s Next Top Model and the American version? It’s not like the other moms at school and I have a lot of common ground, except for maybe our kids. And sometimes I want to talk about something other than mom stuff.

So, I don’t want to seem negative. It’s still a lot of fun being over here. But the last few days I’ve been missing home, family, and friends.

Maybe opening up a can of hot dogs would help?

Seriously, I actually hesitate even posting this, because I don’t want anyone to worry. Really, everything’s fine. And I have a visit back home coming up in two weeks, which is perfect timing. Plus, the week before that I get to spend a few days in London with my friend Lisa. (I can’t wait… That’s going to be so great!) My brother is coming out for a visit in just over a month. (Awesome!) Jim and Jo will be coming out in July. (Yay!) So, there’s good stuff coming up. I just need to get in the groove here. It’ll happen. Soon, hopefully.