CULTURE SHOCK IS A DARK PATH TO NAVIGATE

TL;DR It fucks you up.

U.I. PROLOGUE

This October marks my second year here in Japan. And I’m just recognizing that I’m still in a state of shock. Culture shock. A severe one, that is.

Just the other week, I remember bursting into tears as I told my partner something along the lines of, “I’m sick of this. I don’t wanna do this anymore.” Paired with thoughts that justify why I hate coming to work.

Because who the fuck cares? Not me. At least not anymore.

That excitement and motivation I had before coming here? Yep. Close to none. Gradually vanishing into thin air as the days drag on.

Trust me, I have never felt this way about work. About teaching, for that matter.

This is the vocation I’ve chosen and have grown to love since almost a decade ago. Imagine that? I was young, but I knew what I wanted, and that was to be in a classroom teaching kids.

After that recent breakdown, though, I questioned everything. “Is this still what I want?” “Is teaching still my passion?” “Is it time to move on?”

Who am I kidding?

I’ve known it all along. I kept pushing it away, but deep down, the truth bothered me. It really didn’t take long for me to feel that this wasn't the type of teaching I was after. And now I’ve had enough of it. I’ve had enough of all this.

I knew it was possible, because even the most motivated people reach that point once they experience being here. Somehow, I thought I could ride it out. You know? Maybe if I give myself a bit more time, I’ll finally get the hang of it.

Nope. Best believe this place has officially sucked every bit of passion out of me.

In my defense, it was the end of a seven-day workweek, and I was exhausted beyond question.

But this feeling of frustration, irritation, indifference, and extreme worthlessness at work has obviously and completely taken its toll on me.

I have gone through other episodes of what I can only assume is depression over the course of two years. The hardest months were the ones where I drowned reality and all my sorrows with alcohol.

Most nights (every damn night), I would go to bed intoxicated with my favorite drink. And then I would dismiss it with whatever logical reason I came up with, but never with, “I think this is culture shock.”

U.I. CHAPTER I: THE ENLIGHTENMENT

(yes, I’m not that dumb I’ve kinda figured it out)