Longing For Home

Natasha Cicogna

My movements shudder to a stop. I feel the anxiety creeping in and I can’t help but freeze. Tears spill from my eyes, wetting my reddening cheeks. Nothing can pull me out of my stupor as a panic attack begins to set in. It racks my body and the only thought that comes to my mind is “I wanna go home.”

Coping with anxiety and panic attacks while adjusting to a new culture has been an overwhelming ordeal. Frequently I find myself longing for something comfortable: my best friends, my partner, my family. At times, it feels like the walls are caving in on me and there’s no escape exit. The pressure becomes overwhelming and I feel myself collapsing. I reach out desperately to grasp onto something solid, only to pull at straws.

Coming into this semester abroad, I was stupidly overconfident. To an extreme degree. During the summer, I thought it

would be a piece of cake. Until it became real in the JFK airport and I broke down seeing my family leave me. Tears blurred my vision as the metal detector noises blared. I found myself utterly lost, surrounded by hundreds of other strangers, with nothing to hold onto.

So far this semester, I’ve cried more times than I’d like to admit and texted my friends and family that I missed them an embarrassing amount of times. “I can’t do this anymore, I just need to go home.”

“I wish you were here with me, things would be so much easier.”

"Why can't I come home sooner?"

The phrases float about in my mind and on the tip of my tongue. They ring in my ears when I repeat them for the

umpteenth time to my partner and best friends. They trigger endless tears and countless breakdowns.

Two months into my time here, I don’t feel fully adjusted. In some instances, I’m more homesick than when I first arrived.

What I’ve come to realize so far is that adjustment is a process that never really ends. I thought I’d be fully accustomed to life here by the end of one month. I don’t think I’ll ever be fully at ease in Buenos Aires but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

I can see and understand the allure of Buenos Aires. The city is beautiful and eventful, it feels like it never sleeps. But it’s not home. It’s not New York City. And I have to constantly remind myself to stay present in the moment here. Frankly, it’s excruciatingly difficult. I miss my favorite book stores, my favorite restaurants, my favorite museums that bring back tons of memories. Hell I even miss Bobst. Like a shit ton. But that’s okay.

It’s natural to feel this way, to long for home and to struggle when you’re away from it. It’s natural to feel out of place in a foreign language and in a foreign country as a study abroad student. It’s okay to long to be back with your friends and family. I think being here has made me appreciate who and what I have back home. This experience is wonderful, but I now treasure the time I have with my support system ten times more than before.

In every experience we have, good or bad, there’s something that we take and learn from it. Having gone through multiple slumps during my time here, I’ve learned a lot from my low points. The panic attacks, the overwhelming anxiety, the bouts of depression are important to acknowledge and learn from. Throughout this semester, I’ve learned how to prioritize myself, how to take care of myself, how to be social more easily and how to be more impulsive. I think I’ll come out of this experience a more whole and confident person. But the process to becoming that person is a long, winding path filled with obstacles.