Series: Going Back | Last Thoughts Before I Left

I took a moment to write up a few thoughts before I left for Turkey:

10/11/19 | Chicago

I’m sitting in my favorite cafe I’ve ever found to write this blogpost. I’ve been looking forward and dreading this post. I’m alone in a very large city. I feel a lot anxiety. Even though I know I’m okay, I feel like I could throw up.

I really want to write this post, even though right now might not be the best moment. I just know no time in the next week will be a good time. I will regret not writing down my thoughts before going back for the first time. I will never get this feeling back, this week. I know I will forget in time, the anxieties, expectations, and anticipation that comes with being a week out from a trip you’ve been pining after for almost 10 years.

10/14/19 | Chicago

When I think about next Wednesday, I flash back to July 2011. My sister and I had managed to do two week’s worth of camp laundry using the shared washing machine and dryer on the terrace of my dad’s office in Alsancak. We stuffed four large suit cases with the rest of our belongings. That was all that was left of what we had kept out for 3 months, since sending the container off on a ship across the Atlantic in May. It didn’t feel real.

Leading up to that day, people had kept telling me to “soak it in” and “don’t take anything for granted.” I remember taking my camera and walking around out little neighborhood. I was overwhelmed. I didn’t know what to take photo of… I didn’t know what I would miss. I didn’t know what it meant to soak in anything when I had been living it forever. It was my forever thus far.

I had no idea I wanted a photo of the marble stair case at the bottom of our apartment building my sister and I laid down on in the heat of summers to cool off. I didn’t know I wanted a photo of the little teal glass case from the corner market that we picked fresh bread out of every week. I didn’t know I wanted a photo of my bus stop. I didn’t know I wanted a photo of the ac unit on my wall. I didn’t know I wanted a photo of every meal I called normal. I didn’t know I wanted a photo of Migros our grocery store. I didn’t know I would want a photo my park I grew up playing at and passed by every day. I didn’t know I would want a photo of my bathroom and the washing machine when it leaked all over the floor. I had no idea I would want a photo of everything ordinary. That my entire ordinary would change, and I wouldn’t be able to place the old ordinary with the new. That it was unfair to ever assume my 13 year old heart could grasp what they meant to “soak it in.” I had no idea.

October 16, 2019 | On the first plan from Nashville (BNA) to Chicago!

July 05, 2011 | Running through Atlanta to catch our last leg to Memphis for good.

October 16, 2019 | Dashing to our flight to Istanbul in the massive airport!

10/16/19 | Last Plane

I’m sitting on an airplane, headed to Istanbul right now. I put off finishing this blogpost, because I don’t know what to say. I’m overwhelmed. I’m so scared. Last night as I finished packing I got so worked up I literally said under breath alone in my room “I don’t want to go. I can’t do this. It’s too much.”

I sat in on my counselors couch and cried this Monday. “If I get denied access to the country I called home for 70% of my life, I’m going to have to start all over in my grief.” If everything went as planned I still felt overwhelmed. “I’m so tired. I’m already emotionally tired. I don’t know if I can take more of this.” “What if I just disassociate. What if I don’t cry the whole trip and have to process and grieve it in 5 years, like I had to this time?” “What if I just cry the whole time and don’t have fun. And I get sick because I’m crying so much.”

Getting on this flight was the most exciting thing I’ve done this year. Getting on this flight was the scariest thing I’ve done this year. I’ve waited to hold this plane ticket for 9 years. I looked out a airplane window almost 9 years ago on July 05, 2011 , taking my last glance of Izmir. I saw the little lime green mosque minaret that I had called my favorite for years. I saw the deep blue bay. I couldn’t pick out our orange rooftop among the apartments buildings, but I knew area. I wondered when I would see this view again. I had no idea what transition was coming. I can say in full confidence I had no idea it would be so long before I saw that view again. I won’t see that view for another 5 days, and I could both throw up from excitement and from some strange dread. I wish I could place it.

My friend Meg and I facetimed a few weeks ago. We’ve never met. In fact, she DM’d after finding this blog series. She’s in Turkey right now after 9 years of being gone too. Within 15 minutes of our FaceTime I was tearing up and trying to gather my words. When I asked her what it was like to be back, she said, “I feel like I’ve seen a dead person.” My whole body went cold. Thats exactly what I feel like I’m preparing to do. I’m going to see someone I thought was dead. That was taken away so quickly. Will I recognize them? How much have they changed? Will they know me? I don’t know. And I won’t know till I see them. I’m currently 2.5 hours away from knowing. We land at 16:15 in Istanbul.

Heres the sparknotes:

What I’m nervous about:

- not knowing the language

- not feeling any familiarity

- my apartment building not being there

- getting physically ill from the emotions

- waking up and being home.. like its going to go by in 2 seconds.

- Remembering new stories and memories I didn’t before.

What I’m excited about:

- the smells and noises.

- THE FOOD

- Showing two best friends this world. My Narnia. To know its real.

- Ripping the band aid off - just doing it. Just being there.

- Remembering new stories and memories I didn’t before.

Currently: sitting on 41E. I’m so tired from taking a Benadryl to sleep. I only slept for two hours. My stomach is in knots. I don’t know if its stress or just airplane food is weird no matter what. I’ve stood up and walked around a few times. Michelle and Are are both OUT. I think I might try to sleep again. Hoping I haven’t forgotten anything to report about from before traveling.