So, immiversary isn’t really a word, but it kind of is 🙂 I landed in the UK on Dec 13, 2006, really confused and questioning my sanity and reserve to see this through.
I won’t lie, it has been hard, really really hard. For every one thing the UK has in common with US culture, there are 100 differences. There were many many meltdowns over seemingly simple things, but those things were so overwhelming to me…and I missed my family like crazy. I still do.
I remember clearly my first sob-fest. My hubz (then fiancee) was no help at all as he didn’t realise how hard things were going to be. My first month here, we lived with his parents until our rental house became available. The first morning I went to take a shower….simple right? You get in and wash. WRONG! Not so simple in an old house in England. First you must pull the cord to turn on the electricity FOR the shower box on the wall…then you get into the shower, have to push buttons and turn knobs to get the shower running. Now, being jet-lagged, questioning my sanity and never having been east of Utah, this was a meltdown waiting to happen. And it did happen, in epic fashion.
That instance was the very first of many learning ‘opportunities’, yeah, my ass! More like reasons to cry! But that was 9 years ago. It seems like an eternity! There isn’t much about Brit life that throws me off now. I have well and truly settled in and I couldn’t feel more at home.
I still miss my family more than words can describe and sometimes I get REALLY bitter about it as the hubz has never been more than an hour away from his parents. Good thing I love them too as they live about 10 minutes away and we spend a lot of time with them. Still, they don’t really replace the insanity of my own tribe lol.
When we go back to the States it feels amazing to land, smell the smells and take in the sights. On the way from the airport to my aunts house I cannot help but feel nostalgic and wonder ‘what-if’….a normal response for most I think. That amazing feeling after having landed at SFO lasts approximately 12 hours. When I wake up all I can think about is getting back home to England. It such a weird feeling to feel that a place that was always home isn’t home and home is somewhere that is foreign to everyone you are related to.
This is the life of an immigrant. My world views have changed spectacularly, my politics have followed and I’ve lost most resemblance to any spirituality. My friends back home have called me all sorts of things from traitor to pretentious as I’ve grown so much in so many ways. I cannot control their thoughts or views of me and frankly their opinions aren’t my problem lol.
Life here is good, the weather is shit. If I could import just ONE thing, it would be sunshine. OMG. The winters here are no joke. It’s not the rain or the occasional snow or even the cold. No, its the super short days that never really get bright. KILLS ME! The shortest day here, Dec 22 is a whole 7 hours and 49 minutes of ‘day’. Fuck me sideways! It’s so depressing! I’m on an incredible amount of Vit D and sit with my SAD light for 5-7 hours a day. Im trying SO HARD to fight it without taking meds! SO HARD! ugh. I need a holiday, on a beach, in a country along the equator lol.
By this time next year I should be properly British with a red passport. And I swear to all that is holy, if that racist ass-hat with shit for hair wins the US election, I will find £2000 if I have to rob a place to renounce my citizenship. Im joking about the robbing part, but 10000% serious about the rest.
Anyways, hope this finds anyone out there in good spirits. Sorry for the random post about my life that has nothing to do with WLS lol, but I had to get it out of me 🙂