Happily Confused

Ever since my departure from Chicago - ok, perhaps three moths prior to that - I have posted nothing but melancholic, desperate, I-don't-know-what-the-heck-is-gonna-happen kind of thoughts. Could I keep doing that? Sure! Complaining and feeling sorry for myself feels consolingly good. It's like eating bitter-sweet chocolate...It's not chocolate milk, but it's not sugarless cocoa either.

I've been away for two years and now I find myself back "to the ground." Do I feel weird and out of place? Absolutely. Well, having acknowledged those feelings, I guess I have to make a conscious choice from this point on: Should I just complain and grunt and cry, or should I try to find a positive aspect to all this? I think I'd better choose the last one, I can't afford to be a hypocrite.*

Let's see...hm...hold on...Ah! I think I got it.

IF I actually didn't feel weird and lost, than THAT would be a good reason for me to feel depressed; it would be a sign that I am still the same girl. Think about it: If the feeling of weirdness exists, it's not because the environment I came back to has become drastically different - I am the one who has changed (and boy, have I changed!)

An actual (American) revolution took place within me in the 24 months I spent abroad. I've been insisting on dreading its natural consequences, but not anymore. I have just realized that the best thing to do is accept the mixed feelings and give myself full permission to be happily confused.

*For those of you who don't know, I've been an advocate of positive thinking for a long while.