Home At Last

I have finally made it home. Actually, I got home last morning, but was too wiped out to write about it yesterday. As soon as I left the airport building, I felt s vast tiredness engulf me. As I walked to the taxi stand, I could feel my head spin like it hadn't in years. If I didn't know this sensation to be a symptom of anxiety I would have been positively alarmed. But, I do know, so I shrugged it off. The cab ride home in a rickketty taxi that managed to hit every pothole. and through a smog was an assault on each of my senses. I could barely sit straight on the sofa when I made it home. There were no tears when I saw my parents lat morning or my sister last evening. I was too tired for that. If I had hoped that on my seeing my family I would burst into tears that would wash away the trauma of the past few years, I was wrong. Life, and trauma , are more complicated than that. I managed to get a few hours of sleep in the morning, but continued to feel groggy through the day. I knew I was tired an I knew I the lightheadedness once |I had rested a bit. What will happen about my PTSD, I don't know. Today, I struggled to find books or movies that I enjoyed. I was also assailed by guilt about not working on my PhD. However, later in the day, when I came across the collection that had ignited my love affair with short stories. It had been gifted to me by my parents 18 years ago. I read the short story that had moved me that most at the time, and I was moved by it once again. I also found a few other books that look interesting, so I should be fine for a few days at least. I will need to make up my mind about whether I should try working on my PhD during my time in India. I am fairly certain that I will decide not to, but I am not at that place yet. Maybe I should write to my supervisor and see what she says? But, the important thing is to stick to my decision once I have made up my mind.