I had my first breakdown this week and was thisclose to buying a plane ticket home next month (still in consideration). Moving here, I knew there were going to be dips and I really thought I would have had one much sooner. People said that if you get through the first six months, everything after that would be a breeze and the homesickness would slowly subside. People also assume that moving to Europe would be sunshine and sprinkles, as if we we’re full-time vacationers. I don’t normally write about the bad and ugly in my posts, because I don’t want people to take pity in me. Why would they anyway? It’s not like we moved to a third world country. We live in Europe, so everything has to be great right? Not so. I’ve mentioned here and there that it has been a hard transition, but I don’t think people really get it unless they are in the same situation.
Imagine that you are at the highest level of a complicated video game which you’ve spent years building up points and hours nurturing the characters. Now imagine having that all wiped clean and having to start from the beginning again in a different language no less. Sounds extremely hard and almost impossible right? Almost like you want to give up altogether and not try anymore? That’s what it’s really like sometimes for me and other expat wives. The nicest people I’ve come across are my classmates and other expats (either online or in person). They are my saving grace. Their compassion and understanding truly makes this experience a little less complicated. I have to keep telling myself that it will get better. It has to.