I have no idea what I’m doing.
It’s 1am and I’m awake in my room, feeling slightly hungry despite having eaten my feelings with a plateful of pasta earlier on.
I’ve spent most of this year abroad in a state of confusion. Not that this wasn’t expected, it’s part of the package deal of moving to a foreign country, of course. But I’m getting a bit fed up with it.
Now that I’ve finally gone back to England for Christmas to relax in the familiarity of my comforting family home, just down the road from friends that I’ve known forever, I’ve had the chance to take a breather. But with this, I’ve realised how much this constant state of worry has been eating away at me.
It’s not that I would write off this year, just the opposite in fact!
I’ll never forget living in Paris and waking in the morning to the sounds of the bustling cobbled streets of the Marais, where the enticing smell of the bakery on the corner wafts through the breeze while construction workers hang suspended in the air to replaster the high walls of my apartment building.
It isn’t picture-perfect Paris and I’m perfectly happy with that; the everyday reality still manages to amaze you with small moments of wonder as you look over the Seine or see the light stream through your window like melting gold.
The problem is that I’m a perfectionist who likes everything to be straight-forward and organised. Consequently, dealing with this uncertainty has left me a bit exhausted and I wouldn’t say Christmas is ever a resting period with lots of responsibilities and jobs to sort out at home.
Because of this, it’s hard to come back to even more forms, essays and the still unsettled atmosphere after the Paris attacks of November, which peaked the other day when the police closed my metro lines to work after a shooting.
It’s even difficult teaching little children. I’m fortunate to have a good group of students that run up to me like I’m a celebrity, giggling ‘je t’aime’ or telling me how pretty I am.
Honestly, it’s the biggest ego boost ever, but it is sometimes draining to explain to a small group of disappointed faces why I didn’t get to teach their lesson or dealing with tired and over-excited kids.
The hardest incident yet was a kid in one of my most enthusiastic classes refusing to speak in a fun Christmas lesson and staring me down. For just a moment, it felt like my face was on fire, my breath caught and I squashed down the feelings of wanting to cry and go home.
Nevertheless, I’m not going to curl up in a ball and hide away. I’ve taken a small resting period from going out and about, but I’m determined to throw myself into meeting people, wandering through a museum for a day or sipping a very French, very strong coffee while people-watching.
Although the photos on Facebook, Instagram etc. make the Erasmus scheme seem very glamorous, it’s very easy to forget that it isn’t a holiday. You can’t curb the feelings of homesickness by simply popping back and this worsens the feeling of monotony from having normal responsibilities of working, studying or dealing with local bureaucracy.
I’m positive that I’m not the only person that feels like this and this fact is comforting in itself. It’s nice to feel less lonely even when there isn’t anyone around.
However, ultimately I have to give the biggest shout out to the Warwick crew in Paris with me. While we’re all struggling through the hurdles thrown at us, it’s such a strong, supportive group and it’s the kind words during a fun shopping trip that have motivated me to write this for my blog.
In fact, I always find it hard to share my feelings without making a joke out of it. So, to finish, I just want to say thank you to everyone who lent an attentive ear, provided a welcome distraction or simply gave a happy smile.
