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i don’t know why it’s been difficult for me to write… but as i sit in the office after a very good february spent travelling, with friends, and enjoying myself, i’ve noticed that i’ve become really defensive about my time here in japan. as it continues to run its course it’s taken on many shapes and working titles for what exactly it’s been to me, but anyone who was there in the beginning knows that it was rough start. but when i hear of people speaking on behalf of my experience, telling others things like i hate living in japan or i’m not having a good time or honestly anything negative, it all feels like a big misunderstanding. even though, yeah, stuff wasn’t easy at first (and not to say they are always easy now), i think i worry more about the impression of myself that gives off… because, as defining as my circumstances were, my own actions are still going to affect my experiences, and saying that i’m not having a good time makes it seem like i’m not someone who can make a good time out of an incredible opportunity, to which i feel sad and sulky about T_T

but at the same time i think it’s disingenuous to say i’m writing about my experience, and then only focus on the fun and rewarding stories. i do it because, maybe unconsciously, i want what i write to be palatable to an audience, i want others to see that i’m doing good, i want the people who care about me to not have to worry, i want to move past all the lonely days and thankless work because they’re painful footnotes in what “should” be a totally epic awesome impactful adventure in my life.

and it has been impactful, but a lot of that impact only came about because of those times where i just wanted to pack up and go home, when none of the effort i was making felt like it was amounting to anything, when i couldn’t see any point in troubling myself any further with all of this. because honestly it really sucks going from living with your best friends for five years to coming home to an empty apartment. it really sucks that i can only catch family phone calls when i’m staying up late or manage to get up early. it sucks that i don't drink away the 8-4 work day with co-workers who double up as besties every week. it sucks that my friends here are cities away, it sucks that i know enough of the language to get by but not enough to chit chat with students or cafe owners or locals, and it sucks that i won’t be here long enough for things to improve gradually with time.

but somewhere along the lines i became someone who can appreciate and even look forward to the solitude. to just sitting with myself— to really, really looking at myself in the eye. it wasn't as if i became someone who didn't need all of that connection, it's more like i became more understanding of the fact that i'm capable of getting things done without it. on the contrary, i'm more aware than ever of the value of connection, the effort that's required to put into it, the luck that is an undeniable factor of it, and how much of a role it plays in helping me thrive in any circumstance. it felt like i was torturing myself in this repetitive thought process; that this is an opportunity to try and make as many meaningful connections as i can, and it'd be a waste if couldn't, and if i was as warm and sociable as i worked so hard to be, then my surroundings wouldn't change that, and that if i actually wanted it all that bad, i'd have it, because it is as simple as putting myself out there and knowing i have nothing to lose and everything to gain. i call it torture because it was insatiable and unforgiving. any effort i did make, i'd brush it off as me doing the bare minimum, and i'd only ever be able to focus on the areas where i was lacking. and honestly that's just so unfair to the relationships i have built with other people, and most especially to the relationship i'm piecing together with myself. like i have made really great friends, i even love my acquaintances and the once or twice-off interactions i find myself having because actually, i do put myself out there. i might not be able to capitalize on every potential relationship, but to expect that of myself when i had to essentially re-learn to socialize alone in a different part of the world, and on top of also going to work and feeding myself and having hobbies, and learning to do that alone in a different part of the world. like don't u think if it were easy, everyone would be able to? or however that should apply. anyways.

there was the grad ceremony. similar to last year, i didn't have any hand in preparing or being involved other than just watching. but differently, i actually did know these kids because i had nearly two semesters' worth of classes where we'd literally just converse in english. i didn't get to teach them for their last year, but i did get to help a few kids with their university interviews! despite that, it still very much felt like an outsider-looking-in situation as both the 3rd year teachers and students became unsurprisingly sentimental… and anyone can get caught up in that kind of thing so i felt it a bit too, but after the ceremony i pretty much sat at my desk waiting for the day to end as their main teachers were beckoned for yearbook signings and photos— so that's where the feeling of this being quite thankless work came to fruition i guess. you see i love complaining about being stuck in holes i dug myself into, i could've very well gone out and gave my personal congrats to the kids to get wring some meaning out of the day, but instead i mulled around and blamed that on my hangover and lack of sleep. which is a little bit valid i will give myself that. if i slept more i would not mull so much for sure. but who am i if not a muller… that's what this whole entry is!