As many of you know, about a month ago I admitted that I was struggling and needed some help. To be honest, I felt rather stupid doing it, and was worried that people would think I was weak. I have always prided myself on being a strong independent person, and always thought I could tackle anything that came my way on my own.
The response I got though has blown me away. My best friends here take me out, keep me busy and make sure that even though I don’t want to, I eat. My friends at home have sent me care packages and cards, and many of them text or email me to check in and make sure that no first years have died by my hand (more than one of them has joked that I need to stay on the straight and narrow because they do not want to have to come bail me out of jail). Today I got a care package full of little things that made me smile with a note from one of my oldest friends telling me she will always be there if I need her. It made me feel good, and reminded me that I do have value. Most importantly my family has been amazing. They have let me cry to them, they let me vent my frustrations, and they remind me that despite my best efforts to convince them otherwise, my world has not stopped turning just because I am going through a rough patch with someone I love.
My recovery has barely begun, but thanks to the amount of love and support I have gotten (and a really great Scottish woman with Hipster glasses and a nose ring), I feel like I am ready to tackle it one day at a time. If all goes according to plan, I have about 67 days left in Scotland. I have a lot to do in that time, papers to write, towns and islands to see, people to visit with, and I know that all of that will aid in my recovery. I will start tackling my future one day at a time and hopefully get it back to the path I want it to be on. In the meantime, I say a big thank you and an even bigger I love you to all of the wonderful people I am surrounded by and remind myself: