These are the Days Life as an Expat is Hard

I'm dehydrated, sleep-deprived, exhausted. My head is pounding. My body feels weak. As I look in the mirror I can see the bags under my eyes, and the tiredness in my face. Somehow the bags under my eyes seem to sink into my face, yet at the same time my eyelids look swollen. I should be able to lie down and fall asleep immediately, instead, I lie down and cry. And it happens every time. 

I had family visiting this past week, and it was truly wonderful. As always, it was completely draining - waking up early, walking for miles in the heat and humidity, playing tour guide and sharing all my knowledge on Rome and Naples. But it was also wonderful to constantly be with people I love and share part of my life here with them. It was nice not having to worry about a language barrier or being myself. It was freeing to be around people who know me so well and love me so much.

When everyone leaves and I have a moment to myself, I should be able to relax, but instead sadness rushes in. And once that happens, so many thoughts come with it: 

• It's Saturday but I have nothing to do. I usually spend weekends with friends but that's not really how it goes here. 
• In Uganda, I'd always go to town on the weekends and one of my friends told me she loved that I came over every weekend. We never planned anything, it was just natural. I wonder if I'll ever find that again. 
• In the US, I go to yoga with my friend every Sunday. We eat bibimbap and walk around DC after. I miss that. 
• I've been dying to host a party, but not sure if anyone would come if I did. 
• I really want to cook for people. But dinner parties seem to be off the table and no-one is ever around for brunch. Lucy always came to brunch (and every party!). Man do I miss her (see, once you do make friends who want to do things on weekends and take trips with you, they just end up leaving).
• I just realized I never had a birthday cake. It's no big deal, I don't think I've had one since I was a kid....in Italy there's a tradition where you make a wish and then break the candle. Someone told me that even when she studied abroad and was alone on her birthday, she always had a little cake, blew out the candle, and broke it. I wanted to do it this year but I forgot. Too late? Probably. Maybe next year. 
• All my friends and family in the US are sleeping so I can't call anyone to just talk.
• If I say anything will people respond with saying I'm lucky I can travel and do what I want so I shouldn't complain or feel sad. This is true, but what I think no-one ever realizes is my life and happiness revolves around people and relationships. And having to build new friendships, while  it's beautiful, is never easy. And it takes time.

I don't know why all this rushes in after friends and family leave. Perhaps it's because I remember all the good times I had with them, how easy it is at home to just call someone up and ask if they want to hang out, or if it's because I still struggle with language and culture differences here. Maybe it's all of those things. 

So what will I do now? Well, in the beginning the sadness took me by surprise a few times, but now at least I know it will pass. I'll probably make some coffee and hope my head will stop pounding. Maybe I'll make some pancakes - I've been craving them for weeks. And maybe I'll lie on the sofa and hope to at least rest. Then I'll probably feel stupid for crying and I'll move on with my day. Because that's how life goes.