I woke up this morning and the first thoughts in my head were about fifteen "what ifs." I mean, it wasn't anything super horrible. It was just little things. What if I get super sick? What if I lose a contact? What if my passport gets stolen?
So much for my feelings of peace and non-concern about going. I think it's starting to hit me. I've felt kind of sad all day and out of sorts. There are things I need to finish, but I don't have time. And then there are some things that I was like "Oh wait, I can finish this in Russia. It's not like my life is ending."
Mom says I'm going through the stages of dying. Not that I am. But she says that anytime someone has a big change in their life death, divorce, moving, extended travel they go through stages. Apparently symptoms of this sort of thing is avoiding, holding on to stuff, or giving it away, and being angry and/or sad. She's kind of right.
Even though I'm not completely avoiding, I still am. I'm not completely thinking about it. In fact through the course of writing this blog entry, I've been forced to think about it and therefore am feeling kind of sick.
As for the stuff. I don't know that I'm really holding on to stuff. Unless you count me trying to fit everything into my suitcase as holding on. But I'm definitely letting go of some things. I dated a guy this summer and had some stuff of his. Gave it back to him when he came to say goodbye on Monday night. He was like "Why are you giving me this back?" "Because." It just seemed like the thing to do.
Saying goodbye to people is weird as well. Half the time it doesn't seem like I'm even leaving. Monday night was just surreal. It was like an ordinary night all summer. The guy comes by after work, we sit around for a while and then he drives the rest of the way home. It didn't even feel like this was the last time I'd see him for a year.
Sunday night I went to my college church to say goodbye to all of them. I love those people. They are a tiny congregation but they've been so interested in and supportive of my upcoming journey. It was good to get to talk to a couple of my adopted moms and see everyone. But again, it was weird.
Everyone is like "Bye Abigail. Good luck on your journey, we're praying for you" But it didn't feel like an unordinary night. We had our potluck, and services and I stood outside in the parking lot for an extra hour talking to a couple interested in Missions like I usually do. And then it was like "Well, see ya."
Mom tells me that it's always harder for the people staying behind. I'm starting to believe it because I don't feel much of anything at the moment.