It still feels like getting kicked in the stomach

I got a letter from a girl who lived in Malawi with me. She left after a few months. She was telling me about all our firends there and what they're doing. It still feels like getting kicked in the stomach every time I think about not being there. It still feels like a loss that's fresh in my mind.

The thing about Malawi was I never knew people as open and accepting as lived there. I only went once to the community I was supposed to live in but I never doubted that I'd fit in there. I never once worried about that.

I spent a lot of time worrying about the Minibuses, which are really a 1984 toyota minivan with balding tires packed with twenty people and live stock. I was always worried that one was going to flip and I was going to loose a limb and have to deal with that the rest of my life. I also worried about rampaging elephants and lions maiming not. I really didn't worry about dying, I worried about winding up with these horrible disfigurements as a reminder of this choice to go to Africa against my better judgement and my parents and my friends.

It was interesting in her email to me that she said it made her crazy as well. I'm thinking there's more to that malaria mediciation than meets the eye. I have OCD (although not officially diagnosed), and so I have bad anxiety sometimes. Usually I have anxiety about things I can control, like did I lock the door, did I fill out that form correctly, etc. This was the weirdest anxiety because it was about things I should be anxious about, minibuses do crash, and an elephant was shot in my village because it got loose, but it wasn't anything I could control.

It was the worst anxiety I'd ever felt in my life, and I didn't know how to control it. It was awful. Eventually the only thing left for me to do was leave, which relieved some anxiety. Since then, and it's been over a year, I've learned a lot about what's going on with me and OCD and how to deal with it. But I still think about the things and the people I lost, and what I would have if I stayed there.

I was talking to someone the other day who told me that she was sorry I had such a short time in Africa, and I told her without really thinking about it that I had exactly the right time in Africa. Interesting. I'd go back in a heartbeat if there were different malaria drugs that didn't make me nuts.