For a moment I forgot about it. I forgot that life is an adventure, a track with highs and lows. Somehow I felt like a bird who had lost it's wings. I was depressed, tried to kick myself out of it by going out with some friends, accepting every invite anywhere. But I still felt I kept going down and there was no way out. My life seemed without meaning. The idea of not being out there, traveling and keep moving was very overwhelming.
Everyone kept asking the same questions: what's next? Where to next? What's your plan? How long will you stay here? Anxiety kicked in every time and all I wanted was to go back to my parents' place, lock myself in the studio (my room for the time being), watch series and movies, and don't leave until I had everything figured out. Which I did, except for the part of figuring things out. Still I got no idea of what I wanted.
Being back and seeing everything so different. I felt like I didn't belong, but whenever I said something, people wouldn't understand where I was coming from.
I felt lost, and I was lost. At The Simon Community we described it as cabin fever, for the homeless who suddenly get themselves into a home. Suddenly feeling stuck in four walls, but for me it was being stuck somewhere, unable to keep on traveling, unable to come up with a plan. That's why my room suddenly became my fortress. It was a place where I didn't needed a plan, where I could just be me.
But it wasn't enough, sharing the house with my family and feeling part of a different community led me to a need to contribute in a way. Money wasn't an option. Again like being back at the house in Malden Road the way I found to contribute was by keeping the place in order. But there are no rules in a family, the sense of community is different and somehow parents are supposed to provide to their children, even though they have jobs and spend most of their time outside.
It tore me apart to see how a Mexican family lives, as children we demand from our parents. I felt awful for being so mad whenever my mom asked me to help doing the dishes, my bed or my own laundry. She made me independent; and traveling opened my eyes to the idea that a family is also a community of people helping out.
I guess that was the point where I said enough. I needed to get back out there; not only see friends and hang out with them; but get my life back. The path was unknown, but it was my path. Who cared what people thought, or what their question was. I decided to smile and change the subject. Or perhaps give them what they wanted to hear: it had all been great but I'll stay.
Travellers are a rare species. And there are many different kind of us. Settlers don't get it. How can someone just give up their comfort zone? How can anyone travel on a low budget? Is it possible? Are they crazy?
I hit pause on traveling and forgot I'm not stopping. I won't stop, every moment is part of a big adventure. Being a traveler isn't about being a nomad. It's in our blood, in every small detail and every surprise we get with it. I may not be carrying a backpack nor moving from one place to the next; but I'm traveling because after all, living is the ultimate adventure.
