Eternal Sunshine of the Comfortable Mind

The first two weeks of any new situation are what I dread most about moving. Whether it's Hong Kong, Los Angeles, Missoula, or (now) Vail, I can’t stand how I feel when I get to a new place. That constant anxious dread is my worst nightmare. I can’t stand always feeling lost. I want a “perfect” life, wherever I am, the ones that I observe in those that have lived in each place years longer than me. I want control.

Having moved consistently throughout my life, it’s always a feeling I recognize. I don’t like this, I think, because (surprise, surprise) it’s not fun to be uncomfortable. Yet with each move, I seem to forget that these feelings are something that I’ve experienced before. This is the worst thing ever, I tell myself after a week in Montana, forgetting the hours I spent crying after school during my first months in Hong Kong.

 

It’s my first day in Vail, and I’m already catching myself feeling caught in this dread. “I am so nervous,” I told my friend after she picked me up from the airport. “Well, yeah,” she said, in so few words. Of course I feel nervous! It would be weird not to be. Starting a new job, arriving in a new place, meeting new people – these things are not supposed to be easy. These things are not always supposed to be fun. Welcome to life, Katie.

 

Yet I constantly push against this, telling myself no, this is not how I should be feeling, this is not how things should be going, everything should be perfect. I rode the bus to the grocery store thinking what am I doing here? I sat on the side of the road eating gas station sushi, waiting for the off-season bus schedule to magically align with my timing. I missed my stop and walked back to my apartment, a self-inflicted dark cloud over my head.

 

When I got home, I FaceTimed another Colorado friend, quarantining with her boyfriend until she gets the results of her COVID test back. “I’m so excited to introduce you to everyone,” she told me, before discussing a potential ski plan. This felt like an incredibly kind thing to say. Meeting new people and skiing with way more hardcore skiers than I – I could take these anxieties down a never-ending thought spiral. But I am determined to embrace the discomfort this time around. Like change, it is one of the only constants.

 

Maybe I’ll hate Vail for the first two weeks. Maybe I’ll love it. Maybe I’ll feel out of place for months. Maybe I’ll leave thinking, I never want to do that again. Maybe I’ll leave thinking, I want to do this forever. Maybe things will get cut short in January thanks to COVID. All of these outcomes are possible.