Some thoughts on some personal stuff

After that suitably vague introduction, you might be curious as to what I mean by that. Well, today I have been giving some thought to the ideas of dependence and trust. To drag its relevance out of life, I am currently in a situation where I am learning a lot about those two things.
First of all, I should state that I am an incredibly independent person. Ask anyone. Ask my mom. I am the girl who jets off to Scotland or Poland or Rome or Spain without once looking back. I trot all over the world, and I enjoy doing it. In fact, I thrive off of my independence. I'm what you might call a free-spirit. And right now, I am finding myself in a situation in which I am forced to be completely dependent upon a rather indifferent third party. I am about 7,000 miles away from home in a country where I cannot legally work, and I am broke. When I left the States this time, it was with the assurances that after a week, I would have all my money for the semester, which, is enough to pay for necessities and leave a good cushion for leeway in case of an emergency or whatnot. However, it's been nearly a week since that deadline came and went, and I am still money-less. If it wasn't for my parents and a rather fortuitous chunk of money that they just happen to have, I would be homeless as well, and foodless. So, I am dependent on the charity of others (which, I have to say, I have received a good deal of generous offers from dear friends and family).
I hate it.
I'm realizing through this that I am completely dependent...upon my independence. I resent having to depend on others. I feel much more vulnerable when I am dependent upon someone else than when I am dependent solely upon myself.
It's an interesting revelation, really. With it comes the philosophical musings that I am fully capable of holding someone next to my heart and not trusting them, really. I'm not entirely sure if I like that about myself, but at the same time, it is a big part of who I am, this independence. As an example of something I have taken to saying lately, "I like people in theory."
Meaning that I have a great deal of respect for people--warts and all. It's just that I like liking them from a distance. In practice, I'm much more of an introvert nearly to an extreme.
This isn't to say that I'm incapable of being close to people--in fact, quite to the contrary. In the past year, my bonds with my family have been strengthened a very great deal, and I feel very close to them. In addition to that, I am fortunate enough to have a number of people, mostly women, with whom I can be completely open, without fear of reproach or judgement.
The problems arise when I am forced to be dependent upon someone (or a group of someones) who are rather indifferent to me. People I don't choose to trust. In this case, the people at financial aid. In fact, they've already broken my trust. They told me that I would be taken care of, and I'm not. Other people are filling in for the gaps they've left. And I'm kind of in a place where I have to trust them. Even though they quite frankly don't deserve it. I'm pretty fed up with them. It's not my parents' and friends' jobs to make sure that I can pay for this semester when I've been awarded a certain amount of money by the US government, no less. Given for the specific purpose of supporting me this year.
Because that is the case, I feel rotten when I accept loans from my parents. And I feel bad when my friends (also poor college students) offer me money. It's kind of awful being in this amazing city and kind of stuck inside because I can't afford to pay for this exhibit I want to go to at a museum about Krakow in Medieval Christian Europe. It's not my loved ones' post to give me money.
There is nothing I hate more than feeling helpless. I realized how much when I burst into tears this afternoon because the money is still not in my account. I've been checking every day, every few hours, just hoping it will just show up. I'm not much of a crier. I might cry for random things, like the thought of 100 Poles being in concentration camps in southern Italy right now (true story) or the fact that a Palestinian/American man is about to be deported after 13 years of three-month tourist visas just to be with his family in Gaza (also true story). But I don't often cry for myself. I surprised myself when I just burst into tears earlier. I feel helpless and vulnerable, and I really don't like it.
In spite of that, however, I am choosing to trust that the money will show up before it's too late. That somehow it will work out, and it won't screw up my entire year. So, let's all hope that even though they don't deserve me trusting them, they'll pull through this week, eh?