Non-linear adjustment in Walmart (also random new job announcement)

Yesterday, I traveled to Bozeman, Montana (aka the 'big city' that's adjacent to Yellowstone).

Flying into Bozeman this May, I couldn't believe how small the town was. It felt ridiculous that they even had an airport. I remember laughing to myself at the size of the 'downtown area.' It was so different, so quaint in comparison to New York City. Now, only a few months later, driving into the ~city~ I was greeted with a complete opposite feeling.

Parking my car after the three hour drive, I walked confident(ish)ly into Bozeman's Walmart. Instantly, my senses felt bombarded, infested with noise and discomfort. There were too many things to look at and I didn't know where to start. I took out my shopping list and did my best to lock in on what I was looking for. It was hard not to become overstimulated when every aisle was accompanied by screaming children running into carts, or people just standing there vacantly staring into space. Or swinging something. My head spun.

Shampoo, I told myself. Lets look for shampoo.

A kid runs into my cart, yelling something.

My eyes scanned over a million words-- aisle markers. I found the health and beauty section. Someone stops in my way. Checking their phone.

I get to the aisle and feel nauseated. Shampoo, I remind myself. Where is the shampoo?

My friend Jacob comes to my side. Something in my face gives my insides away.

Not a big fan of shopping? He asks.

I blink a few times and say shampoo. He points to the shelf behind me.

I go to grab the nearest bottle of a familiar brand and a lady steps in my way.

All of us need the same thing it seems! She says and chuckles. My stoic pavemented face gives her an effort of a smile.

Rolling in it now, Jacob and I wheel to the exit. My mind feeling fuzzy and blurry- I just want to leave.

Jacob starts talking on the way to the car but I don't really hear him. All I can think about is how far I am from the Lake, from Yellowstone, from North Carolina, from Cambreleng Avenue. I return the cart.

Safe and sound in the front seat of my car, I began to cry. I wasn't really sure why my eyes started watering. All I knew was that Walmart unsettled me and that I felt overwhelmed. I was angry at myself for crumbling at the hands of a small town SuperStore. Feeling like a wimp with my new friend beside me, we just sat there silently while I cried.

Although a bit embarrassing, it felt alright to cry. The right thing to do. I cried about my frustration with myself for feeling so overwhelmed. So caught off-guard and unnerved 'for no reason.'

While unsure of things in the moment, reflecting, I cried for many reasons. I cried because I didn't like Walmart, I cried because I was shopping for sheets and shampoo and all the things that signify a longer stay, an unexpected, now long-term residency, here in Wyoming. I cried because I'm moving villages away from Lake, a place where I now feel settled and Home. I cried because I am not in New York anymore, I am not at Fordham, I am not living with and besides my wonderful wonderful friends. I cried because I miss them all. I cried because I'm far away from home but what even is home now? I cried for myself because I know that I am not alone and I want myself to know that.

I cried out of fear, for being away from those I love most, fear of my new job, of my new village, of the life I am intentionally choosing--even if it is exactly what I want and where I want to be. Choosing things for ourself sometimes turns out to be much more devastating than expected. Learning these things, doing these things, are good. but that doesn't mean they're not hard. And there in Walmart, with my new sheets and shampoo and makeup and my new friend, it felt so so hard.

After I cried it all out, I felt confused with what had happened, but I felt better. We went to Chipotle, and Target, and the rock climbing and it felt nice to be in a town, going to old familiar places, doing old familiar things that we just can't get inside the park. I bought new work clothes, and talked about throwing a house warming party at the new cabin I'm moving into at the end of this week.

Much has happened, much is happening still. I called my mom this morning to tell her about my Walmart hell trip and she told me she hates going to Walmart too because its stressful. I told her this is the first time I am not coming home at the four month mark (I go back to North Carolina every four months, even if just for a weekend, I go home) This is the first time I am not doing so. I realized just how homesick I was in that moment, which helped me connect the dots to my emotional Walmart moment.

Although I have fallen completely in love with the life I am living out West, there are moments of heartache, of fear, of dread, of worry, of intense homesickness. Looking for strategies to combat this, I am starting off with this blog post, this acknowledgement of my struggle (Writeitdown they say!)-- and to tell all you frands back on the east coast that I love you and miss you and wish we could hug xxooxxoo

and that I have a new amazing job! Sustainability and risk specialist at Old Faithful!

New beginnings are beautiful and glorious and I'm going to try and remember that as best I can when I go to use my brand new shampoo.