Entry 9 / 24th June 2022
During Friday’s cleaning and arranging of the camp, I learned that some people were planning to attend a nearby carnival that night. I felt a surge of excitement, eager to join them. I had seen countless American carnivals depicted in films and TV shows, so the prospect of experiencing one firsthand filled me with anticipation. Deep down, I knew that reality might not fully live up to the hype, but my inner child was too enthusiastic to care about such nuances.
‘It’s still an American carnival!’ The bright voice examined, feeling like she was bouncing around like Tigger. ‘It’s something to check off the bucket list!’
(Do I even have a bucket list? I had asked myself much later on.
‘No.’ The responsible voice, ‘but at this rate, you’ll be checking things off before you actually officially write one.’)
Upon returning to the university campus in the evening, we began preparing ourselves for the carnival.
It was quite a scene in the shared girls’ bathroom. All of us lined up in front of the sinks and large mirrors, wearing various expressions as we applied our makeup. It was one of those moments where I felt included, laughing and chatting with the girls as we all got ready together.
Hopefully, this will be a night to remember.
***
The carnival was both enjoyable and underwhelming. It was great to be out and about, supporting the fire crew of Yorktown Heights, whom the carnival was raising money for. However, as expected, there were long lines for every ride. It took nearly half an hour to get on the first ride, and there were two more rides after that.
The middle ride we went on, however, is something I wish I hadn’t done. Feeling extremely unwell with all the turns, twists and twirls. It felt like the discomfort of a long car journey or even being on a turbulent boat, but intensified to the maximum.
It was a miracle that I managed to keep my hotdog and chips down.
The last ride was my favourite. It was a long slide, which probably wouldn’t even count as a ride but hey hoe. Luckily, one of the girls I was with managed to get footage of me going down, my joy clear on my face.
However, during all the ride interactions, I couldn’t help but feel… misplaced.
I didn’t know what it was. Reminders of my school days, my insecurities, or being with new people that I was still getting to know. But everyone had someone. Everyone had a solid bond growing with someone, and it wasn’t like I hadn’t made a few friends. Not like what I was seeing around me though.
Was it because I was older? Was it because I was too loud? Was it because I was too much?
With those insecurities came an emotion that I also thought I put to rest.
Bitterness.
I knew it wasn’t fair to feel it. No one owes me anything. We’re all in this new place and bond differently to various people but… I couldn’t help but feel so disconnected. So alone. So unseen.
I haven’t felt this isolated in a long time and I knew, logically, how to deal with this. I knew the tools and self-care methods to aid me during this time. But I felt like that little girl again – unsure of where her place was outside of her own head.
As I laid in bed that night, the thoughts and feelings swirling in me, one thought ran through me. I want to go home.