I don’t know what my deal is these days. I’m just not feeling it. When I was in Brazil, it was part of my every single day routine to come home from work, make a bowl of popcorn, and write. It was my life breath, this blog, and it was unimaginable for me not to write on it.
Suddenly, I came back to the States, and boom. Writer’s Block. Well, not exactly “block,” as I’ve since written an essay, fudged with another one in the process, and spent hours and hours day dreaming about a third that I’m bound to finish one of these days. It’s almost criminal to let this many days pass without narry a fresh word posted.
Part of me is frustrated with the title. I’m no longer working my way through a different culture, living now in New York, and the trials and tribulations of a foreign language no longer give me fodder for funny essays. So what is this blog all about? I’m going through an existential moment here, a blog-istential moment, I guess, wondering if this should exist at all.
Another thing that has been lovely and thus has helped me meander my way through the ups and downs of moving back home, has been….(drum roll, please)…therapy. Now that I’m living in New York, I might as well just go with the flow and get my own therapist. When in Rome, and all. I spend one afternoon a week drifting in the mess of my Self and despite how messy it is at times, it feels wonderful. Just to have someone sit and listen to my ramblings (and they are ramblings) feels like heaven. I feel validated. I feel good about myself. I feel aware of myself in ways that are good. Not the all-consuming fear of myself and the world around me that I seem to have developed and allowed to take over me at very inconvenient times. The woman I talk to each week is wonderful.
What is not wonderful about it is the fact that it is f-ing expensive. And without health insurance it would be impossible—-IMPOSSIBLE—-for me to get it. And even WITH health insurance, the process for getting coverage for therapy is a gauntlet. What a shame our health care system is, when the people who need the help are overwhelmed with the vital minutiae of the process of getting the help.
And so. While I’m here on the blog searching for words to fill it, my off-blog life is full of them. I’m loving my job, the people I work with (students, parents, and teachers), and find every waking moment in the city worthwhile. I’m busy from early morning until late at night. It is the exact opposite of my life in Brazil. And that’s a good thing.