On coming home.

10 days. That's all the time that now stands between me and everything that is familiar. 10 days until I'm greeted by my family at the airport. 10 days until I get to sleep in my nice, big, fluffy bed again. 10 days until I can eat all of the foods that I've been missing. 10 days until I get to watch movies with my best friend again. 10 days until I'm home.

But that means only 10 days until I walk away from my dream. Only 10 days until I give in to this terrible thing I've been fighting. And while it's true that it has already been ruling my life for so long, I feel like this is me finally admitting that I'm no longer in control; the mess in my brain is.

In case you were wondering, that's not a fun thing to admit.

I am not coming home simply to celebrate the holidays with my loved ones, that would have me much more excited about what waits for me on the other end of my journey. The timing just happens to coincide with Christmas. I think this makes things a bit tricky. There's family to see, things to do, places to go. I want to want to do all of that. I want to be excited for that. I wish I was coming home to celebrate the beauty that is this season.

The reality is that I am coming home broken and weary. All I want when I get back is to crawl into my bed, curl up under my cozy blankets, and stay there forever. That's not meant as a hyperbole, either. I just want to sleep and never have to face the world. In fact, some days all I can do is sleep. I get out of bed each morning only because I would feel even worse if I left everyone to cover my classes for the day.

I've finally been able to shake the guilt of leaving but only because the school already has a replacement lined up. But I'm still greatly conflicted about all of this. I feel like it ultimately it wasn't my choice at all. I never would have chosen to walk away from all of this. But I also would never have chosen to try and keep fighting for my life here when I felt I was bound to eventually lose. So I'm doing  what I have to do to at least give myself a fighting chance here.

Ultimately, what I'm trying to get at here is the fact that I need time. Part of me cannot wait to see your lovely faces, to be wrapped in the warm embraces of my loved ones, and to share stories of the past 4 months with you. A bigger part of me is terrified. I am overwhelmed by the mere thought of suddenly being surrounded by so many people, of suddenly having to appear ok for all of those people. It's hard work to put on that smile and pretend that it's all alright. Not that I necessarily think I have to do that all of the time, but I'm sure you are uninterested in seeing me when I'm in my bed that I haven't left for 2 days and my face is tear streaked and I don't even have the energy to feed myself. But that's my reality more often than not. So please don't think it's anything personal if I don't see you right away when I get back or if I'm not up to doing something with you.

Thank you all again for your love and support, it means the world to me.