A Devastation Per Year
I like taking note of patterns in my personal life. I've already noticed that I tend to fall in something like love with a girl almost every year (and this rarely works out in my favour, obviously, otherwise there would be one consistent girl by now). I have now noticed, also, that so far in each year of university, something personally devastating has happened to me. That's interesting, isn't it? That perhaps I can expect something personally devastating to happen for every year of university I do - or perhaps even just from here on out, until death?
In the first year, what struck me (what still feels like) hardest was my falling out with the girl I've loved the most in my entire life. She has had a boyfriend for a while now and our lives are truly separated, but I do still miss her sometimes. I imagine perhaps I always will, insofar as her presence has left some serious background radiation in my heart.
In second year, it was my short-term girlfriend breaking up with me. Nowhere nearly as painful as falling out with the aforementioned girl, but this did hurt and left me weird and awkward for a while. She was so sweet, and while I don't miss her in the same way, I do still sometimes wish things had worked out differently. I think my soul is still working to recover from these two devastations, which makes this third one that is happening now particularly annoying.
The third, in my present year, is that I am essentially being held prisoner in a country against my will. I have realised that leading your life in a language you are not strong and confident in, even in the name of something so noble as language-learning, is just not for me at all. In this sense, I am no linguist. In this sense, I cannot pretend to the title of Language Learner. I simply love languages and language and expression and the beatific ballet of words; but living life in a language that isn't my strongest is not good for my soul. I feel diffident and sad and unable to make connections with the majority of the population. This shouldn't be a problem because people are always so willing to speak English, but I feel guilty speaking English when I have their language, even in a broken form. Plus, I'm technically here academically to improve my broken form of their language. But, put simply, I don't want to do it any more. It's not for me and it's not where my heart is. I prefer being confident in my language, and studying confidently things I love in that language, and improving my ability to socialise in that language. I won't feel bad about this; I cannot say I didn't try the alternative. I wish I was the kind of person who could become fluent and sociable in multiple languages, but it doesn't suit the personality I seem to have cultivated. One strong language and a few other weak languages that I don't maintain will have to do for me.
Anyway, my university won't let me end my Erasmus year and transfer into single honours Philosophy next year, but they do say I can apply for the transfer for next year, but that I must continue with the Erasmus year and pass it. To me this is a cruel compromise: it makes me miserable to be here, but they either can't see that or don't care to see it and must follow procedure. Bureaucracy can be cruel.
In any case, I think I will apply for the transfer, even though (if I get it, which isn't guaranteed) it means one extra year of tuition fees and that all my friends will have graduated before me. Oh well, this is the price one pays, I suppose.
As for the encroaching anxiety and depression that being here brings me, I really don't know what to do. Some days I feel I can't leave my room. I miss a lot of lectures. I know the cycle needs to be broken before it gets worse, but I have nothing here to break me out of the cycle. In my first year it was the philosophy society; in my second year it was that society plus friends I had made from it. There are no societies here and the friends I have here I'm not close enough with to oblige them with taking care of me. There is a girl I have quite a strong crush on, but our relationship won't develop, because I am too scared. I know it's ridiculous, but this environment really is bringing out the weaker sides of me. My soul is already weary from the past two devastations and I am constantly fighting to improve, but being here in this country in a constant state of diffidence is making it terribly hard to become a better person. And yet still, I must survive for the rest of the academic year.
I know I will survive; I always do. I just hope the scars my soul will have to show for it don't run too deep.
In the first year, what struck me (what still feels like) hardest was my falling out with the girl I've loved the most in my entire life. She has had a boyfriend for a while now and our lives are truly separated, but I do still miss her sometimes. I imagine perhaps I always will, insofar as her presence has left some serious background radiation in my heart.
In second year, it was my short-term girlfriend breaking up with me. Nowhere nearly as painful as falling out with the aforementioned girl, but this did hurt and left me weird and awkward for a while. She was so sweet, and while I don't miss her in the same way, I do still sometimes wish things had worked out differently. I think my soul is still working to recover from these two devastations, which makes this third one that is happening now particularly annoying.
The third, in my present year, is that I am essentially being held prisoner in a country against my will. I have realised that leading your life in a language you are not strong and confident in, even in the name of something so noble as language-learning, is just not for me at all. In this sense, I am no linguist. In this sense, I cannot pretend to the title of Language Learner. I simply love languages and language and expression and the beatific ballet of words; but living life in a language that isn't my strongest is not good for my soul. I feel diffident and sad and unable to make connections with the majority of the population. This shouldn't be a problem because people are always so willing to speak English, but I feel guilty speaking English when I have their language, even in a broken form. Plus, I'm technically here academically to improve my broken form of their language. But, put simply, I don't want to do it any more. It's not for me and it's not where my heart is. I prefer being confident in my language, and studying confidently things I love in that language, and improving my ability to socialise in that language. I won't feel bad about this; I cannot say I didn't try the alternative. I wish I was the kind of person who could become fluent and sociable in multiple languages, but it doesn't suit the personality I seem to have cultivated. One strong language and a few other weak languages that I don't maintain will have to do for me.
Anyway, my university won't let me end my Erasmus year and transfer into single honours Philosophy next year, but they do say I can apply for the transfer for next year, but that I must continue with the Erasmus year and pass it. To me this is a cruel compromise: it makes me miserable to be here, but they either can't see that or don't care to see it and must follow procedure. Bureaucracy can be cruel.
In any case, I think I will apply for the transfer, even though (if I get it, which isn't guaranteed) it means one extra year of tuition fees and that all my friends will have graduated before me. Oh well, this is the price one pays, I suppose.
As for the encroaching anxiety and depression that being here brings me, I really don't know what to do. Some days I feel I can't leave my room. I miss a lot of lectures. I know the cycle needs to be broken before it gets worse, but I have nothing here to break me out of the cycle. In my first year it was the philosophy society; in my second year it was that society plus friends I had made from it. There are no societies here and the friends I have here I'm not close enough with to oblige them with taking care of me. There is a girl I have quite a strong crush on, but our relationship won't develop, because I am too scared. I know it's ridiculous, but this environment really is bringing out the weaker sides of me. My soul is already weary from the past two devastations and I am constantly fighting to improve, but being here in this country in a constant state of diffidence is making it terribly hard to become a better person. And yet still, I must survive for the rest of the academic year.
I know I will survive; I always do. I just hope the scars my soul will have to show for it don't run too deep.
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