I felt like replying to your early article on anxiety vis a vis sakura, but this also seems very much related.

I have pretty bad anxiety. I’ve always been a worrier. And after the March 11, 2011 earthquake, I had my first real panic attack. Scary stuff, and an aspect of my psyche that I still work with. Japan seems to be, as it is with most anything, a double-edged sword for my anxiety. I’ve had some of my most wonderful days there and some of my worst. The busy days of exhausting teaching and distracting tourism and language study were wonderful. The constant alone time was often difficult. If I wasn’t exhausted from work or distracting myself with beer and friends, it could get rough pretty quickly. The idea of truly facing that anxiety (and that anxious boredom) is a difficult but vital approach. And Japan forces that on you, as you said.

I got to know a lot of people locally as they would see me out and about almost every weekday. People practiced their English with me, I learned a few words of Japanese everyday and tried them out on my husband, who speaks it fluently.

But I guess I was lucky – people invited me into their homes, taught me how to make ramen and soba and other random dishes I used to know the names of. I taught them how to make Indian food (which i was surprised to learn they love). This lady gave me scallions she was growing in her garden by the street i walked by (i used to wave and nod to her everyday) and i started helping her out with the gardening – and learned a lot about growing veg. I met the leader of the women’s business association in a festival and praised her (in broken Japanese) on encouraging women to have businesses and be independent. After that, she kept inviting me over to her house and to meetings and they all learned English from me (i didnt charge – it was all so random and fun) and taught me origami and flower arranging ( which i was rubbish at) and how to wear a kimono. When I left, some of them were emotional and presented me with flowers and a Kimono and origami papers.

I don’t know whether I would have gone mad waiting for my husband everyday or not – maybe I would have gotten used to it. Thankfully, I never had to find out.

Do you have a small community in Fukuoka that you are a part of now (like a mini family) or is it not something you consider having? I was in Ushiku for about a year.

If you move to a new city in your home country, it takes a while to establish networks, if you’re of a mind to. Language and culture certainly play a part in Japan, but it’s basically the same ‘new city’ effect, just on steroids.

“I came to Japan precisely to face this kind of unhappiness, and take it on.”
As I said in the last link I shamlessly spammed your way, “You must endure the discomfort to get better at enduring the discomfort.” Still seems a little cart-before-the-horse to me, to be honest. Frankly I’m having trouble seeing the horse at all. But it appears to be working for you and this has to rank as the most artful JET Recontracting Angst post I’ve ever seen. Keep on keeping on, my friend.