It's interesting, the concept of time. Sometimes it seems slower, while other times it seems faster, though it is always moving at the same speed.

When I studied abroad in Germany, as I barricaded myself into my tiny single room, time seemed to move so slow. My anxious body couldn't seem to focus on anything besides calculating how much longer I had in what seemed like such a terrible place.

I had been basically dropped off, out of a cab, into a cluster of student housing — international student housing. With no wifi, no cable, no idea where the grocery store was, and going on 30-some hours without sleep, mental breakdowns were all too familiar to me.

There was no host family...no familiar place to do laundry...no one I had known before signing up for the trip...just me...in a seemingly huge world...where I just kept shrinking.

I looked forward to the nights, where I could call my mom, and then cover my head with the one blanket I had, and hope when I woke up it would all just be a bad dream. I looked forward to the times where I could immerse myself into a Netflix marathon so the hours would pass more quickly. I looked forward to the phone calls home, the messages from friends, and the "X" I put on my calendar every morning.

I was packed to come home a week before we even left. I remember calculating down to the minute how long I had left in such an anxiety-ridden country.

I remember thinking to myself, "what if I come back here one day? And stand in the same place?" (The place where I publicly humiliated myself with streams of tears running down both of my cheeks.)

I would get on the tram to hurry back to my single room, my safe place, and I would cry the whole way back, standing against the wall of the fast-moving tram, just crying. People would stare...what is wrong with that American? I'm sure they were thinking to themselves.

"I just want to go home," I wanted to scream.

But the funny thing is...now that I'm back...and it's been well-over one year since I've been back, those memories are still so fresh. It seems so long ago, but then again, it seems like yesterday. Time is just such a funny thing.

I guess it's like watching water boil. The longer you stare at it, the longer it takes. But the second you turn your back and start washing some dirty dishes, the pot is boiling over onto the stove top.

If you're interested in reading about how I made it through my way-too-expensive study abroad trip...www.gretchenlorenaroberts.blogspot.com.