I am not a robot

In the lead up to my departure people have been asking me how I’m feeling about it all, and my stock answer has been excited and nervous. Actually in truth I’ve felt a little numb, which I initially thought was a pretty weird response to something as potentially life-changing as moving to the other side of the world for a whole year, especially going by some of my fellow EPIK teachers’ meteoric excitement/anxiety levels.

But I don’t think I’m an unfeeling robot girl, my feelings just appear to have manifested themselves in a different, more physical kinda way.

For example: crying, generally speaking I don’t do much of it outside of the cinema or my duvet, but apparently the times they are a-changin’. Ever since my mini breakdown last weekend, in which my tear ducts spontaneously erupted in the middle of a busy restaurant, tears have been bursting forth unbidden all over the shop, no matter how unlikely the trigger. These little bouts generally come as a total surprise to me and are accompanied by a wave of fairly intense sadness that evaporates with the last of my tears when I go back to feeling normal, if not a little lighter.

And its not just my tear-ducts betraying me. Midweek when I looked in the mirror I was greeted by a face that sort of looked like my own, if I’d been given some dodgy botox and gotten amorous with a bed of stinging nettles. At the time I put it down to a mystery allergic reaction but in hindsight I think it was probably just another way for my body to relieve some of the tension brought on by the build up to leaving.

With three sleeps to go until I fly and the tension mounting my only concern now is what other measures my body might turn to…

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