Tag Archives: social anxiety

Tout le monde te croyait disparue, mais tu es revenue !

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Yes, hello, bonjour, I’m still alive and well.  More than well – I’m in Paris again.  If that wasn’t already incredible, I was here doing an internship with the United States Embassy.  La classe !  I started the internship around the end of March, and I finished the internship about three weeks ago, AND I don’t go home until the end of July, donc….c’est plus ou moins les vacances pour moi maintenant 🙂  And let me tell you, j’en profite, my friend.  Oh yes.

Let’s see, what have I been up to?  Well, tons.  Should I just make one big master post for the month of June?  Or make one for each thing I’ve done, but go into more detail (with more pictures bien sûr)?  Aucune idée, so we’ll just see how this post turns out.  As usual, I haven’t exactly chosen a topic for this post (never do), but I can guarantee you, it will contain amazing pictures (yea, I said it), boy talk, et aussi un peu de français.  C’est parti !

I’d like to introduce you to the new (and improved?) Pont des Arts:

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This next picture pretty much sums up my thoughts on this whole situation:

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OÙ SONT LES CADENAS ? / WHERE ARE THE LOCKS?

They did leave us some on both ends of the bridge by the stairs though. *praying hands emoji*

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BOYS.  I’ve met quite a few boys this time around in Paris.  Some were relentless and super lourds, but there are a couple who I get on really well with, and one in particular who, get this, made me realize that Mathieu wasn’t all that.  No hate to Mathieu, I had an incredibly lovely time with him last spring, but I’m glad I’ve found others who…put my relationship with him into perspective, I guess.  Naive never-had-a-boyfriend-before Rosie thought Mathieu was the best thing that had ever happened and was absolutely heartbroken when she left him behind in Paris.  She is so happy to say that she was entirely wrong.

Unfortunately, even the good ones can really make me want to stab myself in the eyes and rip my hair out.  Without going into too much detail, during this séjour à Paris, I am, once again, learning so much about myself.  I’ll admit, it’s hard to say no to boys who aren’t treating you the way you deserve to be treated when they are French, et du coup, effortlessly sexy.  It has to be done though.  I am a Queen – treat me like one.

Also, can I just say – how do I always manage to start relationships with guys who have really weird and unconventional jobs that take up almost all of their time???  A baker, a I-don’t-really-know-what, and a self-employed journalist.  I know they’re busy but, hey, I like you…I want to spend time with you before I peace out back to America.  Yes, I’m coming back to Paris in a year, but I doubt anything will carry over to then, so let’s fucking profite ! (Pardon my French..English).

I’ve also made some great friends this time – some French, some not, but we all speak French 🙂

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Okay I’m getting tired now so I guess this is where this post is ending lol.  Stay tuned for the next one 🙂

Bisous.

C’est pas grave.

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If there’s one thing I learned while living in Paris, this is it.  C’est pas grave.  As someone who lives and still struggles with anxiety, this is a difficult concept to understand and to accept, but when you hear it literally on a daily basis, it starts to sink in, and you begin to believe it.  Je vais rater le dernier métro!  – C’est pas grave.  Merde, il pleut encore! – C’est pas grave.  Je parle pas le français aussi bien que les autres! – C’est pas grave.  After a few months, I found myself giving this same response to others who were stressed.  I realized my mentality had completely changed.  I had stopped worrying about the little things.  There is so much good in life and worrying about things that you have no power over is the dumbest thing and a huge waste of time.  You’re going to miss the last metro?  Good, that means you can walk.  Paris is beautiful, go explore it on your way home.  It’s raining again?  Paris is just as beautiful sous la pluie.  Grab an umbrella and go take pictures before the rain stops!  You don’t speak French as well as the others?  Practice.  Make some real French friends!  They would love to help you improve.

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Sous le métro Sèvres Lecourbe

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Rue Lecourbe

Without going into too much detail (it’s a long story), there was one night where I had a breakdown in Montmartre.  It was my first major breakdown since leaving America, which made me feel like such a failure.  I felt a mix of feelings – angry and disappointed, because I had been doing so well and I felt like my mind had betrayed me by allowing this to affect me so deeply.  Sad and embarrassed, because tons of curious Parisians were watching this train wreck happen in the streets of Montmartre.  Scared – what if this is the beginning of me getting bad again?  What if I can’t pull myself out of this?  Crossing roads without looking for oncoming traffic, sobbing hysterically, I managed to grab a taxi.  Through heavy  breaths, I was able to give my address to the driver.  Then I let go of the last bit of control I had been holding onto and cried and cried and cried.  Pourquoi vous pleurez??  I was annoyed that the driver had asked me anything, knowing that now I was going to have to calm myself down in order for him to understand any response I was going to give him.  Trying to control the sobs, I explained what had happened.  He immediately responded “Mais c’est pas grave ça!  Je pensais que c’était plus pire que ça!”  He laughed and so did I.  He took my hand and held it until I stopped crying.  Somewhere between Pigalle and Pasteur, I realized (thanks to this kind stranger) that I had the power within me to overcome this.  This wasn’t a failure unless I let it defeat me.  The next day I tried again and ended up conquering my fear.  I was extremely proud of myself.

It’s one of my favorite French phrases because it’s so true – vraiment, c’est pas grave.

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Boulevard Raspail

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Petite balade dans le Jardin des Tuileries.

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La tour.

Bisous.