When the Bonderman panel asked me how I would deal with homesickness, I silently thought, "I won't have to," and looking back on all my journeys, I haven't really had to. I've always had this problem of feeling there was concept of "home".
The first time I went through a difficult 6 month depression where all I wanted to do was sleep. The second time was a little better, but only at the assurance that I was to leave within three months. This time I had that same promise, only I didn't view as an assurance, I thought I was happy being where I was. I came back with hope for myself. I finally was able to find happiness within myself and like Ana told me, thought I could create happiness out of thin air. This time I thought I had it figured out. I thought I had a lot of things figured out. But you put things into a simple equation and you realize with time that nothing is ever that simple.
Something happened since I've been back, like a weight has suddenly crept up on me. It's a strange feeling that is, having peace slowly taken away from you. It's like the genuine life behind your smile get desecrated, but the smile is still there. It's just empty.
I look at my photos from my trip and I don't know, I could just feel the happiness seeping out of my image. I don't know who that person is anymore. I try so hard to grasp onto those moments, to recreate those times that lifted my spirit, but I can't. It's like trying to recreate mouthwatering dish that you foolishly stumbled upon but never really knew the recipe in the first place.
What happened to my peace? Where did my patience go? Since when did traffic jams become annoying? When did watching my fish swim suddenly become too time consuming? When did I start criticizing those around me? When did I start hating myself, again.
Sometimes the mirror is a scary place, when you suddenly see yourself at the other end of the finger pointing out the blame. Sometimes we're too blind in our clarity. I used to feel that everything that came my way made sense, and anything that didn't, well, I would learn with time. But that wasn't the truth. Sure you learn to see things more clearly, but you also find out shit you don't want to find out.
But I'm lucky. I have a place in my mind that has peace. Sometimes I see it in my dreams and I wake up, happy. But the sad thing is I'm scared to make it a reality. I almost want to keep it as a thought, something I can rely on, a safe place. I guess I just don't want reality to hurt anymore.
But if I've learned anything since I've been back it's that you suffer for your happiness, that pain is for love, because "Even the beauty of birth leaves it's own scars". And if all the experts of self-discovery are right, "we will find home right where we are".