Feelings and dealing.

Five days left in the village, and I am not good at saying good bye. Especially when I don’t know when I will return and know that nothing will be the same when I do. My coping mechanism is avoidance, and I have been doing just that. Avoiding thinking about leaving Goli with Vivian, Peter and Hope the dog, who is now familiar with me enough that she follows me to my house and sleeps outside. Avoiding answering the questions like “when will you return?” Avoiding thinking about how I am not going to see that cute baby, Bismark, growing up into a cute boy. Avoiding creating more memories because it feels like my heart my burst if I do. Lazy days sitting under mango tree watching goats bleating and pigs wallowing are dwindling down to no more, and I don’t want to think about it.

As I am approaching the end, it feels as if I have just begun. But of course, I can’t stay. This place has been a home, but I have another home I need to return to as well. Responsibility, expectation and hope are waiting for me and disappointment if I don’t show. I am also avoiding thinking about that. So I have been keeping myself busy, distracted, and that works very well during the day when my mind is running back and forth between programming and planning for Peace Corps. But at nights, I tossed and turned for hours. My mind then runs back and forth between the things I spent the day avoiding. For two years, I slept 12 hours a night and barely any these last few weeks. As difficult these moments are, they are also fleeing by. Days feel shorter even though nights drag on and mornings somehow is worse. I try to avoid noticing that too.

All my feelings are mumbled jumbled into a heaping pile of insomnia and anxiousness, and a man is hammering something loud right next to my ears and another man is blatantly staring at me while I try to sort out my thoughts. Maybe today isn’t the day for that stuff.