The thing about moving to another country is..
..that the highs are so high that you are above the clouds looking down at your life and smiling, while the lows are so low that they bring you down to the ground faster than you could have ever thought imaginable, crashing through trees and brush until you are tattered and scratched, looking around confused for anyone that might seem to help.
For the first 3 months you are on this tight rope all day every day where on one side you are full of curiosity, interest and excitement for your new life and the other side is deep loneliness, doubt and sadness for what you have given up.
There is the exciting part of the move, the planning, the doubt, the panic, the arrival and then what?
Everything you have prepared for has led you to this moment and now you are here, in it and what?
All the momentum has died and now, you’re left with a normal life in a (to locals) normal city with no job, no friends, and no ideas of where to go to have a walk or a nice meal.
Welcome, grab a chair. We have drinks.
I moved into my new home, went to ikea for hours for plates, tables, a french press jada-jada-jada, helped my BF unpack and build everything, all of the packaging has been tidied up, his family has come and seen the place..and now what. The whirlwind has died.
I think it is easy to get sucked into this feeling that content relaxation is depression when you have been continually making yourself uncomfortable for the last few years traveling from place to place. “Normal” is the shark life: Always moving, always changing.
The hardest part of ending a journey is when the wheels stop…turning.
I am sitting on my comfortable bed in my newly cleaned apartment looking out of our gorgeous window at the Sydney Bridge. I had a wonderful lunch with the family and they even gave us gifts from their recent travel.
I should feel happy.
I should BE happy..
I shouldn’t be writing this right now to keep myself from crying into the sheets.
Yet, here I am.
Because I have done this before, I know that this will get better. This feeling will go away and be replaced with one of gratefulness and calm. But it must feel terrible for the people out there, taking a leap and moving for the first time, wether for love or for adventure.
If you’re one of those people, know that it gets better. You didn’t make a mistake. But minds are weird and bodies are weirder and sometimes you need to cry to make everything feel in place. There doesn’t need to be a reason, maybe just some Dairy-free Ben&Jerrys Peanut Butter Cup in the freezer and some Crash Bandicoot in the Playstation just incase you need a little distraction until the storm gives way.
Are you stuck in this shitty part of nomadic life? Have you just settled down and are kicking yourself for the mistake that you think you’ve made?
It’s pretty shit right?
I’ll have a drink for you and pour one for all the homies out there figuring out slowly that traveling is about enjoying the highs and surviving the lows in order to get to that next big trip.