I'm back!

"Adventures of the Directionally Challenged" started on Xanga back in 2005. I started it as a way to share my travels and other exploits with my far-away family and friends. Before long, it also became a place to vent as I struggled with loneliness, low self-esteem, and depression. I continued writing until February 2008, during which time I traveled to Russia to visit a friend, studied in China for three months, finished my college studies in Michigan, was a counselor at a summer camp in my hometown (Centralia, Washington), taught English in Taiwan for a year, and worked as a cashier at a Quiznos restaurant in my hometown for six months. Then, all of a sudden, just as I was about to leave for Japan, the place I had always dreamed of living in, I just stopped writing.

There were a few reasons for this. Part of it was because I thought I had finally gotten to the end of my proverbial road. I was living in Japan, just like I had always wanted. I wasn't "lost" anymore, and thus the title of the blog seemed void. I even had a boyfriend, and everyone at home was happy for me. I should have been happy. Right?

Indeed, there were lots of good things about the two years I spent in Gunma, the so-called "belly button of Japan". After all, I wouldn't have decided to stay for a second year if I were completely miserable.


(See? Smack-dab in the middle.)

I had a job I enjoyed...







And I worked with some really cool people.



I had a nice apartment in a nice, peaceful neighborhood...





I rode my bicycle to work every day, which was wonderful in the spring and fall (but not so much in winter!), I could wander around alone in the middle of the night without worrying for my safety, I had nice schedule with plenty of time off each week to pursue my interests, and I got to use Japanese all the time (I became practically native). Looking back on some of the good memories almost makes me wish I would have stayed.

But there was a darker side to the picture, too. My relationship with the above-mentioned boyfriend was extremely unhealthy. Another part of the reason I stopped blogging was because I was so consumed by that relationship, I hardly had the energy to think about anything else, much less write about it. He wasn't a bad guy, but his good intentions just kind of backfired and ended up making things worse. It's a long story, but basically the relationship had a very negative effect on my self-esteem. Deep down, I knew from the beginning that something wasn't right and it wasn't going to work... But I couldn't walk away because I was too afraid of being lonely. The crazy thing is, though, I was far lonelier while I was in that relationship than I am now as a single person. Loneliness is a strange thing.

As my second year in Gunma was coming to an end, and after I finally mustered the courage to put an end to that relationship, a very strange feeling started to creep up on me. This feeling was so unexpected that I tried to deny it at first, but it seemed that, unbelievably, I was getting tired of Japan. Me, who had known I wanted to live here since I was twelve. Me, who was told by all my Japanese friends that I was more Japanese than they were. Me, who had never felt like I belonged in the states. For years I'd been convinced that I would live here for the rest of my life, but all of a sudden I found myself wanting to leave. The feeling itself was familiar. The best way I can describe it is as extreme restlessness. Like I'll just die of unbearable boredom if I can't get away from this place right this minute. I had felt it before, back in the US. I'd just never expected to feel it here.

Then the wheels started turning a million miles a minute. I thought about taking a year off to travel the world. I thought about going to teach English in another, completely different country, like Russia or Egypt or Korea. I thought about applying to be an au pair in France. Or joining the peace corps.

Then I slowed down, and I got scared. What if I ran out of money? What if I couldn't find a job in another country? What if I ended up getting stuck teaching English for the rest of my life and hated it? What if I ended up feeling terribly homesick for Japan, after all? What if, what if, what if. The idea that "Japan is where I belong" had been so deeply entrenched in me for so long that it was just too scary to throw it out.

So I sucked it up. I went back to America to see my family for a couple of weeks (and I did visit my friend Alyona in Azerbaijan, an interesting trip which I'll have to write about later), and then I came back to Japan. I told myself that maybe if I moved to a big city, it would be exciting enough to scratch my itch for adventure. So I aimed for Tokyo, and ended up in Yokohama, which is almost just as good. (Yokohama is pretty big and lively itself, and is only about 30 minutes away from Tokyo's central districts.) So here I am, living in a share house with six other people and teaching English at a girls' high school.

I have to admit, at first I was kind of miserable. I knew I had made a big mistake coming back. I hated my job, and I wanted to leave Japan more than ever. The fact was, though, that I was stuck, mostly because I simply couldn't afford to leave. I had spent too much money on plane tickets, and shipping things back and forth-- and I still had to make payments on my student loans. I felt hopeless.

Then somehow, things got better. Through a few very fortunate positive influences, I began to realize that there is nothing wrong with me. I truly did fall in love with Japan at twelve years old, I got a lot of good things out of it and now I have many fond memories in this beautiful country that's sure to be a part of me, in some way, for the rest of my life. But maybe I just got what I needed here, whatever it was, and now I'm ready to move on. And that's okay. It sounds simple, but it was a huge revelation for me.

I also learned to see my job in a different light. Teaching English may not be something I'm incredibly passionate about, but it's something I can do reasonably well without too much effort (I've been doing it for three years, after all). The people I work with are pleasant. And when I'm not teaching classes, I actually have lots of free time at work during which I can read books or study languages (what I love to do most in the world). I get lots of vacation time, too-- and I get paid for it! What was I complaining about?

Besides, the thought that this will in all likelihood be my last year in Japan sort of makes me treasure my time here more than I would otherwise. I want to make the most of it, so I can leave without any regrets. (I remember spending a whole depressing year in Taiwan, then spending one amazing week traveling around the country and thinking, "If only I had gotten out and done something instead of sitting around feeling sorry for myself, I might have fallen in love with this place.") I want to do all the things I know I'll wish I would have done if I leave without doing them. And to write them down so I won't forget.

And I'm going to post those things here because I've finally realized and learned to acknowledge, for the first time in my life, that I am an interesting person, I have an interesting life, and I have interesting things to say. And it would really be a waste not to share it.