So, I found this post that I had written way back in 2013, about 6 months after I had returned from Vancouver. Re-reading it, especially with the travel I'm going to be doing at the end of the year, it's surprising how relevant, and exacting it is, even now. I have trouble explaining to people about the itch under my skin, the drive to travel, the urge to see new places, the feeling of homesickness for places I've never been.
So, I thought I would re-post it, with a little editing to make it more relevant to today, rather than 2 years ago.
I did some research, (and by research I mean Google-ing), and I think I had reverse culture shock.
Sounds stupid right, that you can be shocked by what you've always known, what you grew up with, what is, and has always been, familiar and safe.
But, it is apparently a real phenomenon.
I had heard of culture shock. It's something you read about a lot when you're preparing to go overseas,
especially to places that are very different to your native culture. It was a familiar term to me, the meaning very clear. The disorientation, the unfamiliarity of a culture that isn't your own.
The differences between what you know, and where you are now.
Funnily enough, I have never really experienced culture shock.
Maybe it's the anticipation I feel every time I book a new trip,
or the excitement I feel when packing and boarding the plane.
Maybe it's the wonder I feel (after the jet lag),
when I make it to another country, and get to experience all the differences their culture has to offer.
Maybe it's because my first trip was when I was 11 and we went to Fiji,
saw the way they Fijians live,
with their huts with dirt floors,
living on practically no money,
them being so thankful when dad gave them a $5 tip.
Maybe it's because my first major overseas trip was to Japan,
when I was 16,
after having been learning about the country,
and learning to speak the language,
from the time I was 8.
Whatever the reason, I have never felt that disassociation.
Just wonder and excitement.
Until I came home the last time.
From Vancouver.
It was the longest I had been away.
But it was only 6 months.
I didn't think it would have that big an impact on me.
I was wrong.
And the more research I did,
the more it felt like someone finally understood me.
The itching under my skin, the need to move,
the depressing thoughts, the ups and downs.
Mum spoke to a friend of hers who mentioned feeling the same way after she and her husband (then boyfriend) came back from Europe.
This feeling of depression, and the up and down emotional roller coaster you seem to be on when you're latest adventure is over.
So... as I do... I Googled it. And came up with reverse culture shock. I was completely unsure that this was what I was feeling. It felt a little like depression, but I knew I wasn't depressed, and the psychologist inside me wanted answers.
Preferably ones that were solid, and quantifiable. So, I read journal entries, blogs, even research papers on this phenomenon.
And, the more I read, the more I felt like I was finally being understood.
I found myself nodding, and 'ah ha-ing' as I read these first hand accounts of coming home after being abroad.
As people listed symptoms and feelings, it was like I finally found someone who understood me and what I was feeling.
No more 'stop being so depressing', or 'why do you have to compare everything'?
And, as someone who has traveled a fair bit,
with a group of friends made up of people who haven't,
or barely traveled,
it was really hard to explain to people I've known for 15 years or more,
how I felt and why I felt that way.
I found a few websites that list the symptoms of this problem, and I have most of them:
- Restlessness, rootlessness? Yep, in abundance. I feel like I have an itch under my skin that I can't seem to shake. I have a need to keep moving, to keep doing. It's hard to explain to someone that this restlessness can't be overcome simply by getting a job/going to work/studying again. It's under your skin.
- Reverse homesickness? Kinda. I didn't really meet a lot of people, but I miss the few I made great friendships with, and, more than that... I miss the place. I miss Vancouver. I miss the hustle and bustle of a large city. I miss being in the middle of the hive of activity.
- Boredom, insecurity, uncertainty, confusion, frustration? Yep. In spades. I am very bored. Again, not the kind of boredom that can be overcome by working. It's the kind of boredom that needs an active outlet. Like rock climbing. Or bungee jumping. or being lost in the middle of a city you know nothing about. It's very hard to describe this to someone who hasn't traveled, and even harder to get them to understand. Frustration is probably my main problem. Everything is frustrating to me at the moment. Everything from my job, to my friends, to the shopping center, to my car. Again... very hard to describe and explain.
There are others, but these are the main ones I feel.
It's hard to explain how I feel, and how I've changed.
It's like I no longer fit into my skin.
I feel alienated from my family, my friends, my home town.
I have a need to get lost in cities like Paris, Milan, Tokyo, New York, and of course Vancouver.
I have a need to go to places I've never been.
Ireland feels like home when I look at pictures, even though I've never been.
I have also found that, while people ask about your travels, they don't really care.
They don't remember where you were, they don't know how long you've been gone for.
Their eyes glaze over if you answer their questions in more than a few words.
They don't care about what you've seen, or experienced, or done.
The food you've eaten, the people you've met.
I don't know if it's jealousy, or if they really just don't care.
But it's not just other people.
It's me.
I've changed.
While I've felt for a few years that my hometown isn't where I'm supposed to be,
coming home from a multicultural, hustling, bustling city like Vancouver,
my hometown just seems incredibly small, boring, and closed minded.
I often wonder what I'll do for fun, and in my spare time.
My tolerance for other languages, and cultures,
my need to see and experience new and varied things,
feels out of place in such a small country town.
A few people I thought of a nice have showed me the ugly side
with jealously and irritation if I so much as mention travel.
I've found that the things I think about,
and values I feel are close to my heart,
aren't really considered here.
The 'me' that I found in Vancouver,
the 'me I feel is the real me,
just doesn't fit here.
People knew me before I went away,
and they expect that I'll still be the same person.
(Of course, most of these people haven't traveled.)
It's hard to explain how living in another country
(even one as similar to Aus as Canada)
can change you so much, and so fundamentally.
For example, an older guy was sitting at the bar when I finished a shift when I was working at the bar not long after I came home
and we somehow got onto the topic of travel.
He couldn't understand how I could see other countries
when I haven't seen my own.
(something my grandmother also doesn't understand)
Trying to explain to him that I wanted to see the world while I was young enough,
fit enough,
and healthy enough to sit on a plane for 12, 15 or 24 hours,
and get lost in a city with no problems
and few fears was met with blank stares.
This lead to 'aren't you scared travelling by yourself that something will happen to you?'
To which I replied 'how is moving to Vancouver where I know no-one
any different that moving to Sydney where I know no-one?'
He didn't have an answer for that,
but you could tell he was pissed off that I had an answer for every question he had.
It's these type of reactions I've been getting since I first traveled.
The most fun (can you hear the sarcasm?)
part of this reverse culture shock,
is the general feeling of irritability,
anxiety,
and restlessness.
I've been sleeping quite a bit,
but invariably 30 minutes before I go to bed those underlying emotions
and thoughts that I can suppress during the day pop up.
I feel like a pregnant woman with my emotions all over the place.
I'll be perfectly happy and then get in the shower and before I know it I'm in tears.
The itch under my skin to move
and see
and experience different things is like a little voice in the back of my mind.
My thoughts are like bouncy balls...
all over the place.
It's like someone dropped a box of ping pong balls into my brain,
and they're left to bounce their way all over the place,
pinging and ponging through my range of emotions
and thoughts the second my brain has nothing to occupy it.
I cry more lately than I have in years.
There's this irrepressible ache in my chest to board the next plane to Vancouver...
Or anywhere...
London is next on my list
if I only had the money to do so.
I feel this overwhelming pressure
(both internally and externally)
to 'get over' my feelings
and start to sort out my life
so I have a beautifully wrapped answer to the question of 'what's next?'
I have people telling me that I'm 28,
and I need to get on with the rest of my life.
That I need to find a man,
settle down,
buy a house and have a family.
That I need to sort out a career.
That I can't be broke and travel forever.
I have to eventually come back down to earth.
But what if I don't want to?
Sometimes,
looking at the list of things I want to do,
and see,
and experience,
I wonder if I'll ever get to do it all.
And I wonder if I'll ever fit in.
I am a little disheartened,
when I read all these accounts of people who are still experiencing reverse culture shock
4, 5 or even 10 years after returning home.
God help me if that's the case with me.
I might just go insane.
I feel myself comparing Australian and Canadian culture.
And I find myself comparing my hometown to Vancouver.
Which is ridiculous because not only are they in different countries,
but ones a small country town,
and the other is a major city.
But there are times I wish I was could call Clare and meet for drinks and dinner at the Local,
or spend an hour deciding on the best cupcakes or ice cream flavour.
I wish I could meet Lindsay for coffee and fan girl over the latest Supernatural episode.
I need my family and friends to understand that,
while I'm happy to see them,
it doesn't mean that I don't miss Vancouver and the people I met immensely,
and want to get on the next available flight to go back.
I need them to understand that,
my urge to travel,
to do and to see and to experience,
doesn't mean that I don't love them
It doesn't mean that I don't want the husband,
the kids,
the career, the white picket fence.
It just means that I won't put my life on hold,
while I find that man,
who will give me kids,
and the career,
and the family dream.
But having a name for what I'm feeling,
and knowing I'm not the only one,
has made me feel better. I
t's not taking the ache away,
or stopping the tears when I look at photo's,
or see updates on Facebook from the people I've left behind,
but it helps a little.
And knowing that,
in 5 months time,
I'll be getting back on a plane,
and heading to London,
catching up with friends,
meeting new people,
experiencing new things
that makes me feel better too.
