Mark

When I was younger, I used to suffer from separation anxiety with my mother. I always used to call her right after school got out, I couldn’t ever sleep over at anyone’s houses, I hated when she went out because I would always call her to see if she was still alive. I would develop these terrible ideas that she had died in a car crash, or had a heart attack, or anything tragic. This was derived from losing my grandpa, aunt, and uncle all when I was very young. My uncle passed from a heart attack, and I was the one that found him across the kitchen floor at my grandmother’s house. I dealt with death at a young age and it frightened me. The fact that my own mother could be gone for eternity killed me, and I wanted to do the most I could to be with her.

I was sent off to summer camp during the summer of 2003, in Wedron, Illinois at Camp Tuckabatchee. Going there, I was extremely excited. I was excited for new friends, new adventures, and new experiences. Camp was what I was waiting for during the whole month of May!

Close to arrival, I started having this terrible feeling. That feeling that my mother and I were being separated or something terrible was going to happen to her. My chest felt tight, like I was suffocating. I had that lump in the back of my throat, that lump you get before you’re about to cry. I tried my hardest to ignore it while going down the hill to the entrance of camp. I started to have a feeling of regret and I wanted to turn around and go home. Unpacking was terrible, but I tried my hardest to ignore that feeling. It was time for my mother to leave and for me to spend two weeks at camp. Two weeks seemed like years to me and I really started to dread this decision.

I watched my mom’s car drive away, and I immediately ran back to my cabin and sobbed. I thought I just lost my best friend. Nothing was going on at camp yet, so everyone was just out doing their own thing. I didn’t meet my counselors or other campers yet, so this intensified the anxiety. I barely slept that night, but by morning I felt a little better. Distractions and getting involved in activities are what helped me overcome this homesickness. I made friends, and was able to relate to them and they also felt those similar feelings, but not to the extremity I did.

When Sarah was in Holland, she really wanted to gain that experience. She wanted to be there, but she started having the feelings of homesickness. Music reminded her of home, along with food. She was listening to The Beach Boys, “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” and started thinking about home and what it was to her. She went to a Mcdonalds to eat, so she could taste home as close as possible. At camp, there was a dance on Friday at the end of week 2. The song, “Build Me Up Buttercup” came on, a song that my mother and I would always sing, and it made me so ecstatic. It's weird how a certain song, or food, can connect you and remind you of home. Sunday was almost there, and that was the day I would finally see my mom again. I was nostalgic the entire time, but I’ve learned to cope with those feelings. They still come every now and then, but then I realize that I can’t let them rule my life.