Culture Burnout

My last visit to the Newey house was pretty subdued. I remember sitting on the couch, staring blankly. By then everything was numb. I couldn't comprehend the vastness of what was about to happen. I may never see some of these people again. And there was a plane leaving to Korea in a matter of hours (24? 36? 12? I can't remember anymore).

Andrew disappeared upstairs and brought down a book on teaching English in foreign countries. He said there was a good section on dealing with culture burnout. Of course, I had to ask him what that was, as so often happens with Andrew and I. And he described this. This ditch I've slid down into over the past week and a half.

It sucks, plain and simple. It confuses me. I don't know what it is, but I've been miserable. It's my windowless room eating away at my soul, it's my smoldering fury at my boss and the immature little reactions I shoot at him when he addresses me that I regret instantly but can't control because I so blindly hate him. It's the relentless, unforgiving conveyor belt of thoughts about Evan that simply will not let my mind relax. The emotionally draining arguments. We have never fought like that before. I can't bring myself to turn on Skype's video to see him, so I type. Let me tell you, typed screaming profanities are just as exhausting as real screams.

It was the first time I screamed at him and he couldn't even hear me.

I am tired. Tired of the shiny black heads in my classroom. Tired of the apartment that I've focused so much of my angst on. Tired of seeing people having fun with their friends. Tired of all the PDA everywhere I look how am I always finding myself next to an even more adorable couple on the subway?

If I can't have it no one should.

I'm tired of people walking on the left when they're supposed to be walking o the right, tired of cars making illegal maneuvers on tiny streets that stop me as I'm walking because they don't use turn indicators to indicate which was they are turning. I'm tired of seeing that damn squid humping the corner of the glass tank on the corner. I'm tired of waking up and feeling the world crash down on me just because I can't see the sky. I'm tired of holding back because I don't feel close enough to anyone here to unleash the full extent of Adri-caught-up-in-her-own-head.

I am tired of wanting to go home. And I'm tired of that leading to a flowchart of chaotically categorized, well-worn thoughts about the how and the why and the what ifs. Do I really want to leave what would I do where would I go who would I resent what would I regret what's the point of being here what am I learning am I really unhappy or is this just a phase?

Someone make this decision for me, please.