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Pre-Departure: Oh The Memories

Metathesiophobia: the fear of change. Thoughts are always the loudest the last few minutes before drifting off to sleep. As if your mind were a small cave and 1,000 tiny bouncy balls were released all at once. Each ball a thought, a memory, a worry. The days continue to count down and before I know it I will be leaving every ounce of comfort and familiarity I have worked so hard to build up. I will begin my third year of college 2,465 miles from the university and city I have began to call a second home. Tonight, just before sleep, my mind races back to the exact moment my parents escaped from my gaze in an early September two years ago.

I was so excited to say goodbye in order to conquer the unknown future I had longed for. I was about to start a new life, in a new place, with new people and new friends. I was to become a whole new me, leaving the past behind, or so I thought. Little did I know this upcoming transition would not be anything at all like anticipated. Instead the next few months were to become the hardest of my young 18 years. Long story short, after not making nearly the amount of friends I thought I would and becoming homesick (literally), I found myself alone in the Porter Adventist Hospital in the ICU, hooked up to various beeping machines injecting unfamiliar liquids into my bloodstream. During the four months I had been in Denver I was diagnosed with tonsillitis 3 times and on the fourth time, my body decided to give a huge middle finger to whatever antibiotic/steroid combination I had successfully taken the previous three times. As the medicine stopped working my throat began to close in on itself, which forced me into the ICU. Those liquids ran through me for 3 days until my abscessed, strep-infused, and infected tonsils shrank enough to be removed. As my recovery began that February, so did the building up of relationships and friendships I had hoped for. Things were looking up.

So tonight I ask myself, why is this seemingly irrelevant story bouncing across my mind at midnight on a Thursday? An overwhelming feeling of anxiety engulfs me as I realize the days until August 17th are beginning to feel more like seconds, ticking away on a clock. Tonight I have realized that I am starting new once again, in an unfamiliar place, with unfamiliar people. Even worse, I am doing so in a place with an unfamiliar language and an unfamiliar culture. I can't help but worry about the struggles and hardships I will soon face and how I will have to overcome them, alone once again.

I am about to travel to such a beautiful place and yet, I feel so uneasy. Although, I would be lying if I said I wasn't excited. I'm excited for the warm weather, the weekend excursions, meeting new people and exploring the island. I am excited to volunteer, go to the beach, become better at Spanish and make new memories. Soon enough, my bouncy balls will slowly stop bouncing, I will drift asleep and these thoughts will pass. Change is what made my move from Newburyport to Denver the hardest, but most rewarding, experience of my life. All of the tears and sickness offered me life lessons, experience and strength. As the bouncing slows and the time continues to vanish I both fear and welcome the upcoming change. And with that, I say salud to another new chapter in my life.


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