As many of you know, I have recently re-located to Fairbanks, Alaska. What you may not know is my process in getting to this location. This post is about the bulldozer of feelings that has recently demolished my falsely perceived strength.
Timeline: Job accepted at UAF (April), Graduation (May), leave California (June), leave Minnesota (July).
Through all of these transitions I have not felt significantly nervous, sad, or lost. I was actually confused about the void of emotion because while I love new adventures, I also become very attached to the people and places I reside (even for short periods). But I figured, eh, I must be more grown up and mature about big transitions.
That is false.
My first warning came when I was said goodbye to a good friend on the 4th and went to see another friend for the last time. When I got into my car to drive the few hours to my next location and they all traveled to the local firework show I felt deeply troubled-- not only because I was prematuraly leaving the events of the evening, but also because of a foreboding presence that I now clearly recognize as mourning.
A few days later my sister and I started our drive through Canada to Alaska. It was a fantastic trip and I could not have asked for a better companion. We arrived in Fairbanks without any issues and began to settle into my new home.
Three days post-arrival I began training (last Wednesday). I am fully enjoying my time with the staff, meeting many people, and soaking information into my brain. In fact, as a side note, I have found my replacement for school in the busy work of filling out forms. This has kept me entertained and productive during the day, and having Hannah as a guest has kept me busy in the evenings.
A few hours ago I realized her time in Fairbanks was over. All of a sudden I was a mess, so much so that I filled out paperwork and took online safety trainings for hours to occupy my cognition and distract me from the impending doom of her departure.
In reflection (since it's only been 30 minutes since she left, these are only hypotheses, not theories...don't get too attached), her departure was my last connection to familiarity. I no longer have someone here who I find comfort in knowing they truly know me. This is not to say I don't have support, but for me forming relationships and being vulnerable takes a substantial amount of time. Losing my transitionary person, the one who is there as support is difficult. In my life there have been very few times where I leapt into a situation without knowing even one person.
So I'm sitting here, writing a sad little diary entry that was meant to be so much more (when I pre-write in my head the words are much more beautiful and grandiose, as is the flow...[sheepish] sorry).
So I sit here, for the first time a lone resident in such a big and empty space, grasping at the words to convey my current swirling and messy thoughts.
On a positive note, I get to pick out paint colors and have already made plans to condition each RA through variable-interval training.