My first few days in my own head
"What the fuck am I doing?"
That was the theme in my head leading up to Monday morning. It varied in meaning minute by minute: sometimes it meant "I'm an idiot. This was a dumb decision. I should stay home and put this money into savings and go back to work."; sometimes it meant "I'm so unprepared. How am I going to survive for the next 8 months? What if this or that happens?"; sometimes it meant "I'm pretty awesome for doing this - who does this? Who am I?"; but most of the time it was some mix of those. I haven't been as nervous or as excited as I was stepping out of the car and getting on the plane in a long time.
The first day here was tough: not only was I battling jet lag, but I felt very lonely and isolated. It really hit me that I was going to be away from everyone I loved for a long time (other than a few visits and meet-ups). I had only ever traveled with friends before, so doing it on my own was going to be a huge adjustment. I had no one to wave at enthusiastically in the morning, no one to have a late night drink and rummy game with, no one to take ridiculous pictures with, no one to correct me when I went the wrong way, no one to watch my back, no one to just chat with. I had read countless articles about traveling solo: about how it's this zen, quasi-religious experience; how you learn so much about yourself, get more confident, come back with a tan and a sexy beard and chiseled abs and a neat bandana and instantly become the coolest person in any room. I knew that wasn't my motivation for taking this trip, but what was? What if solo travel doesn't turn out to be this super amazing experience for me like it has been for seemingly everyone else?
In the few days since, I've started to get a bit more comfortable. I realized that one benefit of being here alone is that I can do whatever I want with my time. Yesterday that was heading to Chinatown on a whim in the late afternoon and getting lost in its markets for 2 hours. Today that was relaxing in my room for most of the afternoon and evening, including spending several hours writing. I'm sure there will be many awesome things that I will do over the next 8 months that I would not have done if I was here with friends. And I'm looking forward to meeting some great people along the way that I can enjoy that late night beer (or 6) with. As far as my motivations are concerned or whether this will turn out to be the advertised zen experience, I'm not sure. I do need to find a sweet bandana ASAP, though.
That was the theme in my head leading up to Monday morning. It varied in meaning minute by minute: sometimes it meant "I'm an idiot. This was a dumb decision. I should stay home and put this money into savings and go back to work."; sometimes it meant "I'm so unprepared. How am I going to survive for the next 8 months? What if this or that happens?"; sometimes it meant "I'm pretty awesome for doing this - who does this? Who am I?"; but most of the time it was some mix of those. I haven't been as nervous or as excited as I was stepping out of the car and getting on the plane in a long time.
The first day here was tough: not only was I battling jet lag, but I felt very lonely and isolated. It really hit me that I was going to be away from everyone I loved for a long time (other than a few visits and meet-ups). I had only ever traveled with friends before, so doing it on my own was going to be a huge adjustment. I had no one to wave at enthusiastically in the morning, no one to have a late night drink and rummy game with, no one to take ridiculous pictures with, no one to correct me when I went the wrong way, no one to watch my back, no one to just chat with. I had read countless articles about traveling solo: about how it's this zen, quasi-religious experience; how you learn so much about yourself, get more confident, come back with a tan and a sexy beard and chiseled abs and a neat bandana and instantly become the coolest person in any room. I knew that wasn't my motivation for taking this trip, but what was? What if solo travel doesn't turn out to be this super amazing experience for me like it has been for seemingly everyone else?
In the few days since, I've started to get a bit more comfortable. I realized that one benefit of being here alone is that I can do whatever I want with my time. Yesterday that was heading to Chinatown on a whim in the late afternoon and getting lost in its markets for 2 hours. Today that was relaxing in my room for most of the afternoon and evening, including spending several hours writing. I'm sure there will be many awesome things that I will do over the next 8 months that I would not have done if I was here with friends. And I'm looking forward to meeting some great people along the way that I can enjoy that late night beer (or 6) with. As far as my motivations are concerned or whether this will turn out to be the advertised zen experience, I'm not sure. I do need to find a sweet bandana ASAP, though.
So, a sweet bandana like this one then? https://rlv.zcache.com/my_mother_is_berry_sweet_bandana-rdfa4962a14854963aba78db5157359ac_z21f3_324.jpg?rlvnet=1
ReplyDeleteWould wear.
DeleteCan't wait to pull this baby out in October when you come back more confident, with a tan and a sexy beard and chiseled abs and a neat bandana.
ReplyDeleteGood job on the writing so far!
Thanks! Yeah, I wanted to write this stuff down because everything I read was from the perspective of having completed the trip. No one really talked about the first few days. Will be fun to contrast this with how I'm feeling 8 months from now.
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