In Transition: Life after Peace Corps

I just read an infographic that said to start a blog you have to have a unique or useful perspective. Well you, my faithful reader, have probably realized I have neither but you read because you are my mom or one of her friends. The entire concept of a blog like this is strange and a bit self-serving and for that I apologize. This particular milieu is an interesting product of my generation (or more accurately the one that followed mine)- our parents told us we were special, our teachers were legally forced to do the same and then Facebook happened and you get what we have today- a largely insincere product that we feel compelled to create from an intrinsic part of our psyche that is wholly convinced of our own perfect and beautiful uniqueness. Well here's my beautiful, perfect, new thought for the day...

As you may or may not know- Peace Corps is over. Fin. Complete. The end. Done. And a month has now passed since that time and a have a number of feelings about it. Mostly I try not to put words to them because they are unstructured, incoherent, and contradicting at times. The week following Ring Out (PC Zambia's closing ceremony), I felt like a confident force of nature- ending on a high note and most of all just happy to be moving on to the next thing. Peace Corps was an incredible and constructive part of my life. I learned things about myself and the world that I could never have known otherwise. However, there were plenty of personal struggles and soul-shattering moments that I will be happy to respectfully leave behind. I am grateful for every moment but I want to regain some of the purpose and joy I felt before I left. So, it's transition time again (which is ironic in its own right since the past 28 months have felt like one long transition). And, unfortunately, a side effect of transition is a prolonged feeling of suspension and one in which you are unsure of who you are. To summarize it better I'll quote Bob Dylan's Shelter from the Storm:

"I was in another lifetime one of toil and blood

When blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud

I came in from the wilderness a creature void of form"

Now that you have a bit of actual good writing to tide you over...

Unlike nearly all of my Peace Corps compatriots, I did not use my final months to plan my future. I did not look for jobs nor did I apply for grad schools. I simply finished my projects and ended my service. I gave myself an arbitrary deadline of "after Christmas" to get myself together and get a job. When I tell people I'm not working right now I get one of two reactions- 1) "Oh don't worry you will find something soon!" or 2) "Oh great! You need a rest!" While both are equally well intentioned, neither reflect the rationale for this purposeful hiatus. I am neither actively looking for work nor am I in need of rest. I am quite rested. I'm cracker jack full of sleep. Nope, I am just jobless for a minute.

I would be lying to everyone if I said I am super happy with this decision. At the time, it made all the sense in the world. Scott's job pays well, so, I don't need to rush into a job just to make money and while Peace Corps provided a great deal of personal growth it did not leave me feeling prepared to take on the work force again and if anything I feel less prepared for the rigors of starting a challenging career. So, I said to myself, "Self, take some time and get back into the academic mindset, explore the options and see if this trajectory is even what you want anymore." But, being the competitive and achievement oriented person I am, I am finding it hard to take my own advice. After all, I am getting no outside validation from sitting around growing.

Perhaps the most troublesome side effect of this transition period is that I feel defeated by other people's success which is a feeling completely constructed by my own insecurities. It's hard to even go on social media anymore. Friends who I am cognitively thrilled to see thriving in the world make me feel like I am somehow failing in my static state. I find myself irrationally admonishing myself for not excelling above my peers, which I fully realize is a real dick perspective. It's hard to remember that Facebook and other platforms are carefully crafted to showcase only the best and most fantastic things about our lives. Regardless of reality, I still feel shitty. Perhaps I am really more upset that I am still on the same roller coaster of emotions I've been on for the past 2 years this time without the illusion of "changing the world" or "doing God's work" (common accolades people shower on Peace Corps volunteers). While I never felt deserving of these sentiments that were blanketly heaped on my work, it was still a protective barrier from the disappointment of failed projects and difficult counterparts and kept me from feeling like I was actually failing in the eyes of others.

I often feel defensive when people ask me how it's going even if there was no implication or judgment by the inquirer. I feel that I need to somehow get across that while I am jobless, I am not lacking in productivity- which is ridiculous. I like being a productive person and I have had to adapt that during my time in Zambia. But, I am learning that my self-worth should not be tied to my productivity which is a hard lesson to learn as an American. I'm in the act of getting my shit together and that is no small feat. In the past two years, I have gone through an unhealthy and unwanted adolescence. Without the resources to do the things that made me feel like me, I tried too many times to be someone else and have felt the emotional tearing of fitting into another person's skin. To become myself again I have to start doing the things that I know make me happy- being with my husband, eating better, exercising, doing creative work and thinking critically. Those things take time and energy and they are absolutely necessary. Once I start feeling like a human again, maybe then I can be the person I need to be to "start" life back up and I am lucky to be in a position not to rush it.