I know, this is a travel blog; this is where I blab on about my travels, my adventures and my plans; this does still fall into this category, I guess, but it’s a lot more personal than I’m used to posting; so I really hope you bear with me and understand that sometimes leaving to go travelling can be really fricking hard.
As someone who suffers with anxiety I’ve been cautiously waiting for anxiety about leaving England to hit me, yet months have passed since I booked my visa and flights to Thailand and Australia and my anxiety hasn’t been knocking on my shoulder. Instead I’ve been counting down the weeks with nothing but pure excitement and an overwhelming sense of joy for doing something that to me feels completely right, my serenity about leaving has felt, to be honest here, a little weird; where were my tears? where was my worry? Sure, I was going to miss my family, friends and dogs; but I knew that it was all for following my dreams, selfish? Probably, but this is something that I feel I need to do, I could skype, I thought, snapchat, whatsapp and facebook would bring me close to my loved ones, and if it all f**ks up or if I’m needed, then home is only a few days away. The thought of being able to get home in a few days (if needed) is what I’ve held on to, but what I didn’t realise at the time is that the past few days were going to show me how important my being at home is.
I apologise for being vague, but the past weekend has been incredibly hard, something terrible happened that made me realise that if I hadn’t been around then things would have been so much worse than they were. I can’t go into details, but something happened that was just horrific, seeing my loved ones go through something so distressing was incredibly hard; it’s something that I’m processing now and to be honest that I’m still really, really struggling to deal with. It made me think that if something like this were to happen whilst I’m round the other side of the world then how could my family forgive me for not being there? how could I forgive myself? I’ve found myself feeling guilty for leaving, I feel scared for the first time, not for what’s going to happen to me whilst I’m away, after all travel and adventure is what truly makes me happy, but what if something happens to someone that I love and I’m not there, especially if it was preventable especially if I was there? I can’t live my life in a series of ‘what ifs’ I refuse to, but I feel selfish for leaving; I’m scared, terrified even that by following my own dreams I’m not going to be there for the people who mean the most to me.
Since this weekend, I’ve been in a glass case of emotion (if you get this reference, then I adore you!), I’ve been drifting between feeling sad, anger and anxious, I know that this is all a normal part of the process and I’m dealing with it the best way that I can, but it’s been really hard.
Of course, I will still be going, I can’t live my life in waiting for the worst to happen. I have to trust myself, I have to trust my loved ones and I have to live my life. Last night I started packing up my room, it was the first thing I could do to cement the fact that I am leaving and I can’t be waiting around, I need to get on with what I had originally planned. I trust my heart to know what’s for the best, no matter how scared I am, I still know that this is what I need to do; I can’t spend my life waiting to help someone else if they need me, I have to help myself and I have to follow the life that I have always wanted to live.
Leaving won’t be as easy for me as I had fooled myself into thinking it would be, but I know that this is the right thing.
Everything’s going to be okay.
Have you ever felt selfish or guilty for leaving to go travel? Your help and advice would be really appreciated right now. Alongside this blog, I’m also all over Twitter and Instagram if you fancy doing a bit of a social networking.