Back home

It's been almost 5 months since I have moved back home from two years of living abroad and traveling. I've had friends who were doing their Master's degree abroad as well, and frankly they told me that this is what was going to happen, so I am not surprised. Here are the stages that I had to go through - the classic stages, I guess.

Excited to be back home! "I'm back, bitches!! Who said I would decide to stay abroad and not return home! Well, I proved you wrong, haven't I? Now, it will be great. I have international education, plus the internships I had abroad. How hard would it be to find a job? Give me 10 days, and it's done."

Missing the life I had: Looking at photographs I took when I was traveling proved to be traumatic. I would get moody after just a couple of sweet memories thinking that part of my life is forever gone, without and hopes for bright future.

Understanding that pretty much everyone moved on with their lives: It seemed that all my friends (except for a few, whom I will cherish all my life) have moved on, either getting married (hurray!), having children, or simply forgot I existed.

Perhaps I shouldn't have been so optimistic. Over the course of the first 3 months I was denied all the jobs I thought I already was accepted for. This hurt my self-esteem a little, and staying excited about being back home got harder.

I automatically got sucked into this black hole, where all the things turned from bad to worse. There were no job announcements that I would qualify for, both my parents had pretty hard surgeries, and 

I started blaming everything and everyone around me, but worst of all, I started blaming myself for the misfortunes in my life. This stage of self-pity and depressed mood... The stress made my immune system weak and I within the period of 4 months I was sick an entire month.

What often helped me was dancing. I started taking different dance classes and it turned out to be rewarding. And I started seeing results in my mood and appearance. I lost the weight from stress-eating largely from dancing, working out, Instagram videos and the Cabbage soup diet (which I recommend).

My parents also played the role in getting my out of the depressed mood. They surrounded me with love and optimism when I thought that Armenia wasn't the place for me. 

I am still in the journey of trying to find my place in Yerevan. It's not easy, but I am working on it. 

What would you recommend I do? 

Or, had you been in my situation, what would you do?

Forever yours,

L.