Not My Words

Dear Judith,

Though I've remained (in my opinion) fairly silent about my time in Saipan, my journal is filled to the brim with bottled up feelings. I have no more words to describe the way I feel; all of my sentences have dried up and floated away, no longer any use to me or anyone else.

I recently finished reading a book which has helped me immensely. "The World Below", by an author who I cannot remember at the moment was a random purchase on the clearance shelf at BestSellers, by Joeten in Susupe. A portion of it is is set in the late 19th century, and the protagonist contracts tuberculosis and is sent to a sanatorium. While there, she lives in an isolated world, much different from the one from whence she came. When she returns home, her father is engaged, and her whole life is flipped upside down, and she has great difficulty reconciling her double lives.

My journal is filled with quotes which accurately describe how I'm feeling in words that I could never conjure on my own. I'm going to share a few of my favorites, so my feelings could be understood.

"It made me think of the borders we all cross, the distances we've all come from what feels like home. Who lives at home in America, now?"

"Now I began to see myself, my story...I saw, in fact, that I had a story. But not only that. I saw myself as I was seen, physically moving around in [Saipan]. [Saipan] gave me this: self-consciousness. Before her, I had been invisibly at the center of my world. But the world grew larger for me now, and I became visible in it. To myself, most of all."

"'You're a new gal!' she said, with tears in her eyes, and Georgia felt that someone, at last, had seen her, had understood that everything was changed in her life." (Haven't had that moment yet.)

"Sitting here now...she found it difficult to believe in the other world, in what she had become and done...[a]nd yet she could hardly believe in this world either, she felt so cut off from it now. As though this life, these events, were a dream she was living through. When someone spoke to her, she half expected bubbles to rise from her mouth, she felt so underwater, she felt she was moving so slowly and thickly through the day. Would she ever outgrow this? Would her own life become familiar and comfortable to her again, as life in [Saipan] had? Or had she made herself unfit for it, with all that she'd done, all that she'd learned? Of course, she was thinking, it wasn't her own life anymore, not as she'd known it. Maybe that was all the trouble. Maybe it was just a matter of getting used to [the way things] would be run."

"I recognized that for her, the divided life had begun, that life always half lived elsewhere, always ready to be claimed and summoned."