The level of pre-departure anxiety I am feeling at the moment surpasses the anxiety I felt when I was first about to leave for Paris for my first year of graduate studies. Surely, the second time shouldn’t come off as uneasy as the first? But, hell, now it does. Maybe because I now know how lonely and difficult it can get, I now know how cold, literally and figuratively, it could be. Most importantly, I am leaving at a time of great uncertainty for everyone with regard to the situation of the pandemic, especially for loved ones who I will be leaving in the Philippines, compounded with the political situation that many friends and colleagues will be facing. Everyone will staying home to weather the storm, why am I leaving?
Because of this anxiety, this week I’ve been perennially distracted, not abiding by many of the daily schedules and checklists I’ve made. I’ve been very spontaneous and lackadaisical with even the mundane things I’ve set out to do (mostly relating to my departure)–if I do anything at all aside from staring blankly into the ceiling, that is.
A significant source of the anxiety is receipt of some updates from matters I was trying to work out in Germany. Now that it is not forthcoming, I feel really disappointed because it was something I was sincerely looking forward to–another path I was trying to explore that would have made me really happy.
So it’s back to Paris for me in a few.