Nuts in Nederland

Most days on my drive to work, I have the radio off and like to enjoy the sights and sounds from my 30 minute commute. I relish this time, as I am someone who craves time to myself. I need that on a daily basis and if I don't get that, I begin to feel irritated by everyone and everything. I just want to lock myself in my bedroom and escape. I had that feeling on Friday night and Saturday morning. And with Sunday being Father's Day, I was surrounded by family all day. Monday morning I woke up, got dressed for work and as a last minute idea decided to take a Mental Health Day.

I sent my boss an e-mail notifying her I needed a day to clear my head with regards to last week's disappointment (not getting the job as Alumni Officer). I have less than one year to reassess my career (before my contract runs out) and figure out what I want to do next. I'm now two for two: Two on campus solicitations, two let-downs.

I think about getting certified to teach English, which entails going back to school for a Bachelor's degree (which I already have) as well as investing at least three years of my life. But I'm not sure I'm up to that just yet. I love the university life and don't want to leave Tilburg University. My dream job would be to teach public speaking again. However, there are currently no vacancies on campus in the language centre where I could teach presentation skills to non-native English students. And for me, that would be a dream. But that possibility just isn't an option right now. So now what? Apply for the Communication Officer position that will be posted shortly for the Alumni Office? I believe I have a very good shot at that and matching qualifications, but I am afraid to get my hopes up. I've been disappointed twice when I felt so sure, so confident. I feel myself second-guessing myself, feeling insecure and wanting to cry. I hate this feeling. I want it to go away. I want my old life back.

I wrote out a five-year-plan for myself last year. And now that plan can be thrown in the trash. I don't know where I'm going to be in my career next year. The future is yet not clear to me and I hate this uncertainty. I like stability. I like certainty. I like knowing what's coming next!

So I took the day off yesterday. I got in my car and headed to Amsterdam. This is the place I go when I want to get away from it all. I love big cities. I love breathing in the sounds and smells of people rushing around, coffee brewing, buses shuttling people back and forth and being a part of other people's experience. I like to talk to strangers. I enjoy feeling like a local as I walk into stores and people immediately assume I'm Dutch and start talking to me in Dutch. It's such a compliment. After seven years in a foreign country, I have acclimated. I blend in and I have integrated.

As this was my second time going to Amsterdam alone, I've acquired two traditions. First, I always buy myself a little gift. Last time I bought myself a Momiji doll. I picked out the Giggles one as it seemed fitting to my personality.



This time I bought a cute key ring flashlight that moos like a cow.



The shop I went to, Nieuws Innovations, had several keychains to choose from: a duck, frog, pig, dolphin or monkey. In the end I decided on the cow since I used to live in Texas and here in the Netherlands you see a lot of cows as well.

The second tradition I uphold is having ice cream for lunch. Last time I ate at Ben & Jerry's and had my favorite Coconut Almond Fudge Chip.

This time I found a great little gelato place on Prinsengracht whose name I have forgotten. I had a double scoop of coconut and chocolate ice cream. LEKKER!

I also managed to buy a great summer skirt at my favorite clothing store, Pure Clothing Company.

I bought this one in lime green.


Although I had a great time driving and walking through all the streets of Amsterdam, one lesson I learned from this trip: TAKE THE TRAIN. Hourly parking in A'dam is highway robbery: FIVE EUROS PER HOUR. Forget that. And you still have to walk.

By the time I started my journey home, my Tom Tom was working this time and I was able to find my way to the highway. I thought I was smart leaving around 4 pm, but I still encountered traffic and it took me nearly two hours to get home. Door-to-door, taking the bus and train to Amsterdam can take up to nearly three hours, but at least you can read along the way and make acquaintances among your fellow passengers.

I accomplished what I wanted: A day to myself alone with my thoughts. My mind felt clear and I felt alive. It was only this morning as I travelled to work that I remembered my dilemma. Find a new job before May 2010. That reality made me sad again. But at least I have job, I have time, and I have a job that gives me the flexibility and vacation time to take a break for myself every now and then.

With the growing popularity of FaceBook, I've been able to reconnect with former classmates from high school and university, old colleagues, and friends from my childhood. I have even established new friendships.

Even being 4,000 miles away from the U.S., I feel transported back into my American life. Memories that have long been replaced with PTA meetings, staff meetings, and planning the weekly menu have been revived and relived.

To my surprise, I have learned the impression that I made on those who once were in close proximity to my everyday life years ago. While I was struggling with feeling alone and completely different from so many people, my actions were making a statement. I didn't realize how I appeared from the outside, because inside I was an insecure, lonely girl trying to feel as if I belonged and felt loved. The independence and confidence that I exuded (something my mother instilled in me) is what they saw.

We all struggle with our inner conflicts. What we project to the world can sometimes seem so strong, yet inside we feel so powerless. Never one to burden people with my problems, I am sure I kept a lot to myself. I grew up with the mentality "The only person you can depend on is yourself". And while I was too proud to ask for help, I struggled alone trying to be strong. While I really felt quite lonesome on the inside.

I was social, friendly, outgoing, yet I spent a lot of time alone. I lived on my own in college for eight years. I went to movies alone. I went to restaurants alone. I went to dance clubs alone. I liked the independence of leaving when I wanted, going where I wanted, and living as I wanted. And I also knew I had too many quirks that I would drive anyone crazy if they lived with me. I liked everything in its place and had my own system of organizing and doing things. I knew if I lived alone, I could have things my way. And I liked the idea of being completely free of any dependence on any one.

I suppose this is why it took me so long to realize that I had OCD. No one saw this part of me, because I lived alone. My husband was aware I was obsessed with housework and organizing, but I think he tolerated it because it was part of who I was. And I am sure he enjoyed always having a clean house, yet I was never able to stop and just enjoy life. We missed out on a lot, because I was never able to stop cleaning.

After a year on Zoloft, I am able to openly talk about this. I have no shame. I am just so relieved to enjoy life without the constant anxiety that I daily experienced. It is something worth sharing!

As I share my life stories with friends old and new, I realize that everyone has their own skeletons in their closets. All those people that seemed to have their shit together....they were just as messed up as I was. They had their own family disfunctions, anxiety, feelings of loneliness, and insecurities. I am, naturally, surprised to learn this, yet it doesn't seem odd or weird what they have had to overcome. We all carry our own crosses.

As we discuss these issues, the common thread is being a better person NOW so that the cycle doesn't repeat. And especially, if they are parents....making sure our children will NEVER have to live through the issues that we had to endure.

Our parents did the best they could. They made mistakes, too. Each generation wants more for their children than what they had.

Even though it took me 38 years to finally get help for my OCD, I know now that I am a better person medicated. Where I was deficient, I am whole. And I am able to give more to my children. I would have never guessed it would have taken a little pill to make things much easier inside my head. But it did. And I can be grateful that I am a better mother to my children. And they already have a much richer life than I ever had at their age.

I started a blog entry a while back about my short stint at a psychiatric hospital when I was 14, but never resumed writing it. Also, I wasn't sure how much I wanted to share online for so many people to read.

But what I can share is that my childhood was nothing like what my children experience. And for that, I am grateful. By the time I was my daughter's age, who is now 7, I was on my third elementary school, third address and my parents were separated. I'm just grateful my children grow up with the stability that I never had and with two parents.

As far as I'm concerned, I can live in our house, in this country until the day I die. I am not fond of moving. I like stability.

Despite all the moving we did as a child (I went to four elementary schools, three junior highs and two high schools and lived in five different states), it taught me how to make friends with anyone and I am still the type of person who can make friends wherever I go.

I'm often asked if I find it difficult to live in a foreign country without my parents here, and I often respond how living in Texas for eight years alone prepared me for this life. From the time I was 19 until I turned 28, I lived on my own with all my family in Virginia. I relied on "adopted families" and friends for support. And most of, I depended on God to help me through the difficult times.

My life could have turned out completely different considering all the obstacles I've had to endure. An absent father, a bi-polar mother, and a lifetime suffering of OCD. But I was blessed with Christians who prayed for me, guided me, and a God who never gave up on me. Sure, I got here on my own, but I know that without God I wouldn't have come so far.

 
My crazy kids