Madness. Melancholia. Panic and Fear.

Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those who do not write, compose or paint can manage to escape the madness, melancholia, the panic and fear which is inherent in a human situation.
- Graham Greene

Confusion wraps around my heart and brain, and it won't let the feelings out. I try my best to comprehend all that I will go through in the next month of my life, but for some reason my mind won't let me escape all the way to Jakarta before my heart feels completely overwhelmed. 

For awhile I thought the reason was because this time around I'm leaving America for two years, but when I embarked on this journey to Tirana, I didn't expect to go home for two years. Then I realize that it will be more than two years before I can call anywhere in America home. To top off that comprehension, I also recognize that Albania will never again be my home. As we were out walking this weekend I noticed a coffeeshop that sold cafe american in to-go cups. I immediately thought I'd greatly enjoy spending my Saturday morning walking around the artificial lake with a cup of coffee in my hand. I turned to Scott and mentioned this, only to have him point out that I'd easily be able to do this in America in 2 weeks. 

Then there's goodbye. Last time I dealt with saying goodbye to my brother and best friends in Minnesota, and about 2 weeks later I said goodbye to the rest of my family. 2 families, 2 homes. Now I have 3 families, and 3 places that feel like home. I say goodbye to one, head home to be greeted by my loved ones whom I haven't seen in nearly a year. I say goodbye to Minneapolis, to head to my other home, only to greet it and say goodbye less than a week later. Then I have to move on to create another family, and a new home. Let's just top all this off by pointing out that I am also saying goodbye to twelve fantastic students, and less than a month later I'll be starting a job teaching a new grade, at a new school, with all different curriculum. 

As I type I become overwhelmed with happiness and sadness. 10 months of my life. The best, and the worst all compressed into photos, my blog, 2 suitcases, and my small beating heart. No one cares. It is understandable and frustrating. 

I haven't started packing. I took out my suitcases and laid them on the floor on my living room, weeks ago, hoping this would convince me to do something, anything. The school had a clothing drive, so I managed to sort through and create a few bags of winter goodies, no longer necessary. My luggage sits, nearly empty. 

Madness. Melancholia. Panic and Fear. I beg you to escape me.