Nothing depresses me more than the thought of being away from all these kids...the reality that I need to go to college depresses me more than I can say. I am fairly positive that God wants me to study nursing and Hindi...and then I can come back to Orissa as the nurse and continue teaching science. But--that still requires me to be in America for a few years. Away from these kids. It breaks my heart into a million pieces and I will be very depressed when I return. Many of the little ones have ceased to call me sister (a very common name for a girl or unmarried woman in india) and have instead called me "mom". One of the little girls came up to me, sat on my lap, told me she "I do not have a mommy. You are my mom" and promptly kissed me on the nose. Leaving these children will hurt me.
When I return, it will be freezing (to me--as I have been in hot weather for months and months) and Christmas time. I want to be real with you all in saying that the most depressing month of the year for me is Christmastime. I hate Christmastime. Allow me to explain...
I have always associated Christmastime with fear, anger and hurt. Many things that have seemed to 'go wrong' always ended up happening in the winter time. Not only that, but the materialism and commercialism of Christmas has always hurt my heart. There is also a sense of 'goodwill' and constant, elevated 'Christmas Joy' that I, with depression and anxiety, can never maintain. Why is this 'goodwill' and 'giving' attitude so high in America only during this season? Yearly it hurts my heart to watch. In addition, cold weather always makes me depressed. When India will have painfully hot, sweaty, dusty day, I won't lie--it is a little miserable--but it is nothing compared to how much I hate the cold, hate snow, hate the gray, colorless winter. I suppose this is because I was born in New York and I have grown tired of the snow lingering around like a guest that doesn't get the hint that I'm tired and they should go home now. I just...I hate winter.
I have had a lot of trouble sleeping. I keep having vivid flashbacks to North Carolina-- almost out of body--when I close my eyes to sleep, I see Holly Springs, Apex, Raleigh, Cary, my office, my house, my car, my best friend's house, even concert venues and my cat...in such great, vivid detail, almost as if I am there. It really freaks me out, I know that it is normal for a person changing cultures and I have read about how this can happen to missionaries, but I still hate it. It is a little freaky and it makes it very hard to sleep...I ask that, when you get the chance, please pray that I can sleep at night.
I will be a mess when I get home. I want to prepare you all for the mess that I will be in a few weeks. India is my home. India is where I plan on spending the rest of my life--surrounded by little children that have never had a mommy, fixing wounds, teaching students so hungry for a teacher that understands them and won't hit them, teaching children so desperate for as much knowledge as possible...
India is home, but I must come to my country for a few years. Please understand the hurt I am feeling and please realize I will be, as my dad says, 'a hurtin' cowboy' when I get back. (I don't know where my dad got this phrase, but t cracks me up even thinking of him saying it)
I love you guys. See you soon.
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