What is my problem?

Yes, that's a great question to ask myself. Actually no. It's not. I'm tired of asking myself that, and I've asked it far too often in the past year.

It's 9:15 pm. I'm sitting in a coffee shop (and I do love the Heine Brothers) in Louisville and about to undertake something incredible...

update.

So the lesson I'm still learning is to stop blaming myself and stop piling on the guilt.

Let me explain. When last I left you all, I was in Cebu, getting ready for Christmas. Seeming very content and very healthy, the weight of the world on my shoulders, but still persevering. I guess that wasn't entirely true.

The funny thing is how well I remember it. I was about to have a meeting, a check-in if you will, with my site coordinator in Cebu, Ate Bet. I don't know why I was so scared to do it. I guess because there was talk of spending Christmas with Pastor Nory in the poor churches in the mountains, and the thought of that was and is terrifying. Terrifying for one because of what it is, and I don't think I have to explain that to anyone. But terrifying also because I still felt somehow entitled to a better Christmas than others in Cebu. That's a harsh judgement to put on myself. I can't be shocked that I am not the strongest person I can be, that four months is not going to break 22 years of inculcation. I'm still scared of keeping my eyes open. And that's what was terrifying. I was also terrified because for some reason, the youth of the jurisdiction thought I was qualified to teach an art class during their yearly Christmas Camp. I'm still on the hunt to find who convinced them of that. But I sat down with A-Bet and braced myself. How I must have sounded, trying my hardest to suggest without bluntly saying that I didn't want to spend Christmas with the poor (and how I still judge myself for that). So spoiled. I wonder if she picked up on it? I was scared who they were going to send me with for Christmas and the News Year. And then came the resolution...I would spend it with A-Bet. And I remember how...relieved I was...and how, happy I was. It almost shocked me how much I had grown to love her and trust her, and how honored and happy I felt being asked to spend the holidays with her. I left smiling.

And that's when things stopped making sense.

It's a long story. I can't really blog about it now. I was scared to then. Basically how it goes is that I was stricken with symptoms of something unknown. Ate Rose took me to visit VCMC where the resolution of the day was an appointment for an ultrasound because I probably had kidney stones. Freakin' PERFECT. So I went, by myself, the scariest thing in the world, and laid down and took it as the Filipino doctor told me that yes, I did have kidney stones, but that there was also something else, and he was recommending I see a specialist. And through all the talk and who knew what was going on, I ended up talking to an OB-GYN who was sending me to see someone for further testing to see if it was just a cyst or cancer that I had.

Lots of things happened. I ended up in Manila with Becca, leaving before our staff Christmas party was quite over to the words of the Bishop saying to hurry back so I could continue to help fight. A lot of arguing with Becca and one thing happening after another, I was suddenly on a plane to the states. Fifty-two hours after that I stepped back onto Roanoke soil, kissed the ground a little, shed a small tear and immediately went to see a doctor. January came and went and I ended up with three small scars from a surgery to remove a (thank God) non-cancerous, dermoid cyst.

But I blamed myself a lot because I didn't go back to Cebu. I couldn't bring myself to tell Becca either and I'm pretty sure that wound is still open. I never went back "to fight" and I'm not sure how my friends on my little island are doing. And I blame myself daily for that.

But I'm slowly moving to a better place, where I can say it was a lot to deal with. I've been affirmed that everyone was at their lowest point in December, and that no one ever expected me to handle more than what I did, or to handle it any differently. Four other interns returned to the states early and I blamed myself for that too. I was always certain that if I hadn't set a precedent that everyone would have made a good year of it. And I can't blame myself for that either.

This probably still leaves a lot of questions open. I could write a novel on my thoughts and feelings on the subject as I've had a good long time to think about it, a lot of time alone with it while my fellow YAVs were dealing with their lives abroad still. I've had an amazing re-entry retreat recently to process a lot of those feelings. And I won't even attempt to write them all out here. For one it's arrogant to think you want to read that and thank God, for once, I don't need this blog to process and make you sit in on it.

The safe thing to say is that I'm in a good place with it all right now. I'm mostly at peace. There are still a lot of broken relationships that I'm not sure I can heal, but intend to attempt doing.

But that's what happened to the Philippines, and here's my first attempt at mending those relationships.

Forgive me for leaving you hanging.