I've already covered re-entry shock. That's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about picking your old life back up, or starting a new one - coming back with no plans and having to depend on the generosity of family and friends to feed and house you while you look for work and watch your savings, so carefully squirreled away, dwindle.
I was in a great place when I first came back. Right off the bat, I got to fluff her dress and straighten her veil as my best friend got married, while answering polite questions about my travels and our plans now that we are back. I had five job interviews lined up in the next two weeks, I explained, and smiled modestly at the congratulations that were offered at having so many opportunities in my field when the job market is so hard. It seemed like employment, housing, and a new life were just a few short weeks away.
It's now Friday, post interviews. The phone interview for the PHS Commissioned Corps was a success, and I am now professionally boarded, but I still need to secure a federal position, which would take several more months - so it's not an option in the short term. On top of that, I still need to submit a mile-high stack of paperwork to get medical clearance, which is going to cost a fortune to obtain, particularly now that we don't have insurance. I've been notified of my rejection from the job with the city of Austin and
It hasn't been so bad in the meantime. Obviously, I am still applying for positions. I've spent time with my parents (and my aunt, while she was here visiting my mother from Brazil) and seen a few friends around Austin and Houston. My brother and his girlfriend took me to a local soccer game. Joel has been spending time with some different friends in Dallas (and reconnecting with their dog, who absolutely worships him). While we don't have as much mobility as I had originally hoped, since we don't have our own car, I can move around the city freely since my mom lets me use hers.
But it doesn't feel like a life. I have always prided myself on my ability to be independent, to figure things out on my own and make my own way. Learning to depend on Koreans was hard but, in hindsight, understandable. This is different. There is something deeply unsettling to both Joel and me about depending on the generosity of others that we have no way of paying back in the foreseeable future. Obviously my mother would feed me until the day she died, and my father rented a car for me to go to Austin for my interviews last week to help me get back on my own two feet. I know they're my parents, and that they give freely, but all I have are visions of the two of us living a Fantine-esque nightmare wherein we are reduced to destitution or desperation or perpetual dependence on the grudging generosity of our loved ones. Or something.
In truth, I've never been a "the Lord will provide" kind of person. One of my missionary friends likes to tell stories of how the exact amount of money that she needs at specific moments seem to kind of materialize right when she needs it, but I've never had such luck. Money has always come from overtime, cashed-out vacation days, and shrewdly-filed tax returns. I am trying to have faith, but this is quite literally the first time in my life since I was a college freshman that I've been looking for work while unemployed, and I am losing patience. I know people are trying to be supportive, but if I hear "Well if you didn't get the job, it wasn't meant to be" one more time, I may just set myself on fire.
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