the travel blues

Alright, I’m gonna level with you guys. I kept this as a draft for way too long meaning to go back and describe things better, and now I couldn’t tell you much because it was last summer. I started writing July 3, and am just coming back March 25. Yikes :( I think it’s. still something worth sharing though.

I’m not sure that I’m the only one that feels this way, but I seem to always get sad before I travel. Maybe just anxieties, and that’s definitely part of it, but also just everything sucks. And it just feels so stupid. Now, I love traveling. In fact, I think it’s one of the only things I’m passionate about if I’m being honest. This has to be why it’s so hard on me when I get stressed and don’t sleep or eat as well on trips, and it all spirals out of control.

These past few weeks I’ve been on a few different trips, and I really only had one day at home in between and I barely even slept in my own bed. I was first in Niagara Falls where I met up with some friends in Detroit and drove up into Canada with them and enjoyed a fantastic couple of days. We had so much fun, and I think part of it was that I didn’t plan any of it (besides a day in Chicago on my way up) so I was just along for the ride. Albeit, I am a bit of a control freak, but when I convince myself to let someone else take the wheel I can convince myself to have a good time. And the time in Chicago, great! I stayed in a hostel two nights, missed a bit of sleep, and walked about ten miles between all the places I wanted to go. It was exactly what I expect out of traveling, and it filled my bucket a bit. After driving ten hours back from Detroit, and having a bit of paranoia on hour nine, I spent the night at my house calming myself down and getting some food. I woke up in the morning, did some laundry and repacked my bag, and left for the park to spend the rest of the day with my boyfriend. It worked out that I could be back on our sixth month anniversary, which was lovely. We shared a bottle of wine in the park, had a much needed heart to heart, and went for a steak dinner afterwards. Then we watched a movie at his place, where I fell asleep about ten minutes into the movie, obviously (who wouldn’t after a steak dinner?).

Then I woke up and hit the road again. This time only six hours to the place I’m from. I get there around eight p.m., talk for a bit and go to bed, because I have an early morning. Of course, it’s only five a.m. and I’m back on the road. One quick stop at Walgreens, then CVS because Walgreens doesn’t have what I need, and at my friend’s house by six. Let’s do this! Only seventeen more hours in the car today… I can do it. And to be honest, it went fine. A few tears in the middle and a sob session after we got to the hotel, and I was ready for eight hours the next day.

All I think about now is the waterfalls we saw, wandered around Powell’s in awe, and my pounding migraine that I had through the entire trip. I have never been so miserable on a trip. But, I managed to make it through, and overall, I’m still glad I went. There’s a lot I would’ve changed, don’t get me wrong. It’s still good I went though. I still want to post it though, so here are my thoughts and feelings after some time.

~~An excerpt of something I wrote on day three or four of a trip to Iceland by my lonesome (typos and all so I’m not tempted to change anything else) :

“i can’t stand the fact that i’m so miserable here. I’m in the one place i’ve always wanted to go, top of the bucket list, and now that I’m here, i’m miserable. I’ve wlwwys felt alone so why does it matter when i actually am? not to mention the fact that travel is the one thing i’ve always been confident of that i love, and now that’s gone for some unknown reason, just a feeling two months ago? it’s not fair that i’m being brave and doing what i’ve always wanted to yet i’m constantly on the verge of tears and want nothing more than to go home. while i know it’s beautiful i don’t feel like i can enjoy it and that’s so frustrating. and embarrassing. it’s the trip of a lifetime and i’m not taking advantage of it, but if i do i’ll go crazy and cry constantly. it’s just not fun & i don’t even think it’s because i’m alone. something in me just changed. and it’s not something i like but maybe it’ll change.”

An awful feeling, that I don’t want to travel anymore, when it’s pretty much the only thing that I’ve been confident about myself and what I’m passionate about.~~

I still feel this way, even when it’s something as simple as driving back home for a week. I’m still upset, I’m still irritable, and I have no clue how to fix it. But, maybe it’s not something to fix; it’s something to be aware of. Maybe there’s some protection to it, if we’re not as optimistic as usual, then we won’t put ourselves in stupid situations. Maybe it’s a way to make sure we always come back home. And maybe, there’s no good reason for it and our bodies just act on instincts that don’t matter anymore. Who knows. What I can tell you, is that traveling is still worth it, even though parts suck and more often than not I feel like shit while I’m on the road, the memories that are made completely override all the miserable aspects, because I know that I will feel better at some point. Could be soon, could be a wretched eternity. At some point, it’ll be better though.