It's 1:23 in the morning as I begin to write this.
Poland will not let me sleep.
My dreams since the trip have been plagued with sadness. Not fear, not anxiety, not even depression. Just sadness. It feels heavy, but not entirely suffocating. Like maybe there's still a way out, a way to get back into the light.
I can't sleep anymore. My parents wonder why I sleep so much on vacation; as it is, I already don't sleep enough at college. Compounded with my recent experiences abroad, it's no wonder I try to sleep as much as possible, in the hopes that quantity will compensate for quality.
In a misguided attempt to come to terms with my sadness, as well as do what I should've done last week, I've started putting my pictures from Poland up on Facebook. I'm quite excited to hear people's feedback on my "work," but even more than that, I'm excited for questions. For now, they're in private, for-my-eyes-only albums until I get them all up and get the captions sorted out. I can't wait to launch them sometime later this week.
I feel suffocated, not because of my shadowy dreams, but because of how lonely it is, to have these experiences bottled up inside.
I'm long-winded, and when I start talking darkness and sensationalism, I see people's eyes glaze over as they feign interest. It feels like talking to a robot that is programmed to nod and sigh and ask empty questions like "really?" and "is that so?" to make it seem like it's paying attention.
I don't want polite indifference. I want empathy. It's frustrating, so frustrating, to have these personally revolutionary feelings putting pressure on my heart and my mind, but to also have no place to put them. I simply can't do it on paper.
Does anybody understand? Anyone at all?
I need tea. And a sleeping pill.
Or something.
m.
Hey, it's Stephanie from the Poland trip. I see I'm not the only one who has returned from Poland laden with new dreams, perhaps some nightmares. I haven't had one night of restful sleep since the plane ride back to Dallas. Some have been explicitly related to the Holocaust while others have been about sadness, confusion, and agony sweeping through my life or the life of people I love. They are hard to explain and put into words.
ReplyDeleteWe may not be having the same post-Poland dreams or have walked away with the same discoveries, but you aren't alone. You also aren't alone in your disgust of polite indifference. Empathy is hard to find...I've been searching for it since I returned from Semester at Sea in August, and I'm sad to say I have only encountered instances of it. Those who participated in SAS/Poland understand because they experienced it all in their own way and came away changed, too. But only a few non-participants have truly listened to me, truly tried to understand and empathize. And I am very grateful for those few.
Don't give up...you'll find empathy. Someone will truly want to listen, to feel some of what you felt or appreciate what you learned. Maybe you won't find them today or tomorrow, but you'll find them.
In a strange way, I'm...glad?...that someone can relate to me in terms of the nightmares. Like yours, mine aren't all specifically Holocaust-related either, but they all have some common thread of despair and loss and emptiness and darkness woven through them.
ReplyDeleteIt's also somewhat reassuring (and sad) to know that someone else from our trip is having a hard time finding people to actually listen. While it would be unfair of us to demand our friends' empathy, which they obviously can't give...wouldn't it still be enough for them to at least REALLY care about what we're saying because WE are the ones saying it? Friends listen to friends, I thought.
I rest reassured by your words of encouragement and optimism. Thanks girl. And I'm so glad we met and that you read this! We will always have those 12 days in common, if never anything else. I am thankful for those 12 days, and for your comment on this blog.