Confession

I will confess… I feel like I’ve been in a mild depression since my return to California. In fact, I was sad from the moment I booked my ticket home. I just kept thinking about the simplicity I’ve lived with for these past months of travel, and the uninhibited joy that I felt from simply doing something that I really wanted to do.

I remember one night in particular when Ana, Travis, Melanie and I were together at Isara. We doubled up on the bikes-- Travis and I riding, Melanie and Ana on the back seats—and headed for dinner at a restaurant along the Mekong River. It was the night I feel that we really became friends. We headed to a bar afterwards and biked home late. Ana and I laughed for most of the bike ride because it was significantly more difficult to steer the bike with someone on the back. My thighs were burning. Upon entering the house, we were all laughing at something Travis said. Ming was still up at her desk on the computer when we walked through the door, probably wondering where we went. I could tell you that I was happy in those moments. Night time bike rides with good company in Nong Khai… When do I get to do that again?

Simple child-like instances of fun were a part of the everyday for so many months. Waking up with the most pressing question being, “Hmm… What am I going to eat today?” Knowing that the day’s itinerary was simply to find a certain beach or lookout point or temple and enjoy that moment. These are the things I miss already.

Everything about being back in California was frighteningly the same. I had left for five months, had been teaching Thai students, seeing elephants walking down the street, riding around on motorcycles, floating down rivers, running after street vendors for coconut ice cream, jumping off of waterfalls, exploring beaches, staying in hostels, sleeping on boats, reconnecting with family… and upon my return to “home,” it didn’t seem like much had changed at all. Being back seemed like a sentencing to the monotony I initially wanted to escape.

Perhaps I seem spoiled, but there was just a heaviness in my chest about being back. Even being welcomed back by my family and friends that I loved and missed so much and cried over during Christmas couldn’t make it better.

Did I mention I got a speeding ticket on the 5 that’s probably gonna cost me a few hundred dollars? That made my chest heavy too…

“How was your trip!?” I’ve heard that so many times already. I couldn’t possibly answer that question with enough justice to what it meant to me. Even by describing in detail, and answering questions about where I’d been and what I’d done, I don’t think people would really know unless they were by my side. Which they weren’t.

I tried to explain the way I felt, but I doubt many people could actually relate to this sadness of what I just left behind. I could only hear myself saying, “No one understands me…” and try to understand myself.

I knew I couldn't be too hard on myself though. I mean, have you ever gone through a breakup and truly been okay right after it happened? Sure, maybe, if you have a heart of stone, but probably not. I couldn’t possibly expect myself to just “get over” this exciting relationship with travel I developed for five months and had planned for a year during the five-hour plane ride back from Hawaii and move on to the next thing. I just had to let myself feel what I was feeling.

And then I snapped out of it.

I don’t know what it was. But today I said, “Lara, quit sulking,” and somehow I felt better in an instant. I’m hoping it lasts and isn’t one of those cases where I think I’m okay, but then later realize I’m really not. The sadness might come back at times, but all I can really do is be thankful for everything I was able to do and appreciate everything around me.

I still don’t know what I’m doing next. This is the first time in probably my whole 25 years of life that I have no plans.

Travis told me that life is what happens when you’re busy making plans. I think he’s right.