Crying in the shower

It seems I've been dealing with a bout of homesickness, in some form, for about the past month. But the past few days it has hit an all time high, or perhaps that should be low, I'm not sure at this point. All I know is that I terribly miss Ohio and all contained therein. I didn't think I would ever say, or in the case type, those words. There seems to be no cure for this and seeing as I don't have any choice but as to stick it out until the end of May I'm feeling more than disheartened. There are things that should make this go away, friends visitings, ski outtings, up coming travels, and though in the moment I feel wonderful, surrounded by friends, experiencing the world, and always learning about myself, the moment that these things are over I revert back to this feeling of incredible lonliness. In relishing the memories of the day I find myself thinking about all of the people I haven't seen in 6 months, about all of the major life events I've missed, or will be missing, and I'm aching to be back in Ohio.
When I first found out that my mother was terminally ill I would only cry in the shower, I didn't want my emotions distracting from the things that needed to be done and I didn't want my mother to see me be anything but strong. It's took me a long time to break that habit, to admit to myself that it's okay that I have moments when I'm emotionally overwhelmed and that crying is a natural part of being a woman and human being. I found myself heading to the shower last night so that no one could here me crying out for something familiar, crying out for the ability to lay my head in my grandmother's lap, to have a date with my sister, to grumble about my father wanting to take me to dinner at an Italian restaurant. That shower and the one I took this afternoon washed away alot: the sweat and heat from my first run of the season and the tears from my face, but at the end my hands still smelled like onions and garlic from the kitchen and I still had to speak Italian when talking about how far I'd run this afternoon. I don't really know how to deal with this, there is no cure. I know that I am living in a self imposed exile. I don't want to continue to wallow in these emotions but at this point I don't know how to deal with it in a constructive manner. I've read a string of really horrible books solely because they were in English, Nick Hornby fans I'm sorry but I seriously considered not reading every again after finishing one of his books. I've been avoiding journaling and subsequently blogging because I feel like this is the only thing I can write about and in reality I don't want to drag those who read this down with me and I don't want a detailed record of these emotions. This post is a last ditch effort to rid my system of these feelings, to get back to my old self, the person who is happy when confronted with challenges, the girl who loves speaking Italian even if she does so with a Charlie Brown accent, and the girl who is constantly trying to learn from the world around her. That said; letters, post cards, e-mails, facebook messages, are welcome as a way of cheering me out of this slump. Hopefully the next post will be happy, more introspective, and about something much more interesting.