Being Homesick

Sun, 07 Oct 2012 18:54:00 -0400

During my freshman year of college, I got homesick. It happened in February, though, instead of September or October. Things piled on: my great-grandpa died once I returned from winter break; an off-campus fire took the life of a student a week or so later, making me realize how fragile life is; the gloomy weather, with more snow and colder temperatures than I was used to (Meadville, Pennsylvania, a.k.a. the "Snow Belt"), had no apparent end in sight; and then I caught the flu. Having been used to the attention of my mom every other time I was sick, her absence became quite apparent at that point. Finally, in switching schedules at the start of the new semester, many of the people I had grown used to seeing every day disappeared. All of these things combined to form an intense longing for familiarity, for home.

Throughout this time, I spent many mornings and nights on the phone with my mom. Those conversations helped me realize that what was truly bothering me was the guilt and loneliness I felt from being away from everyone who, to that point, had been important in my life. I kept visualizing my parents and brother sitting in the living room, watching TV together following dinner, and wanting to be there. I felt like I was doing something that was abnormal--borderline "wrong"--by being away from them. After these conversations, though, I realized that I missed my family and friends so much because they had invested their love, time, and energy to see me succeed and grow, and their support for me was going to be most helpful in times like what I was experiencing by fueling engagement with my new environment, not serving as a crutch for remaining withdrawn. I was going to have to move forward, not only because I recognized that I owed it to everyone who had given me this support, but because I owed it to myself and my future goals and aspirations. The thought of trying to connect myself with this new world was scary, but I knew I needed to stick with it.

In moving forward, weeks away from the comfort of home, I used a trick my mom had suggested (I still use it): I learned to view time from the other side. For instance, instead of thinking about how long twelve weeks seemed to be, I went back in time twelve weeks to see how fast time passed. Twelve weeks before that middle of February, the point when I was feeling the most stressed, was Thanksgiving. Suddenly, twelve weeks wasn't so menacing. While I initially was using this trick to wish time away, it ultimately helped me to realize just how precious time is and how much I needed to treasure who I was becoming, the new community in which I had found myself, and the family and old friends who were supporting me from afar.

What about you? Have you experienced homesickness at UMBC? If going home immediately wasn't an option, how'd you deal with it?

--Craig Berger