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Nothin’ Like a Bit of Post Travel Blues to Welcome You Home
First a Disclaimer
This is the first time I’m speaking about my mental status on my blog, thanks, post-travel blues. Normally, I like for folks to learn of my dysfunctionalities after the bonding of our friendship. Once we're friends, I use my comedic wit and sarcasm to mock the fact that I’m two cans short of a six-pack. It works, I mean who doesn’t enjoy when comedy is related to the wows of ones’ life. To do this, I have to be raw and unedited, so expect mild cursing, grammatical errors (Sorry Nin), slang, and inappropriate comedic references.
Finally, I’m not a doctor, I am in no way giving any medical advice. It is important that you know, after my diagnosis, I’ve never pursued the advice of a doctor/therapist/psychiatrist or any other medical professional for my disorder. My symptoms are handled naturally, on my own and without artificially man-made chemicals (prescription medications). I am only sharing my experience with post-travel blues combined with having depression and bipolar disorder. I will tell you how I’m dealing with this because it might comfort you in knowing you’re not alone. Moving on.
What in The Actual Fuck is Going on Here?
As I mentioned, I’m bipolar and I have depression; mild depression, thank you. It comes, and it goes, sometimes lasting an hour, other times, lingering like phlegm after pneumonia. Truthfully though, bipolar is the main culprit here.
But know this, you’ll rarely hear me say the word, suffer. I know what it is to suffer, and for me, there is way more to life that constitutes as such. Being homeless, hungry, cancer, death, not my mental discombobulation, normally. I refuse to let it define me, or allow others to pity, categorize, or label me by my brains’ depleted levels of serotonin. I’m moody, but I make up for it with cocktails and laughter, so deal.
However, this time, -it felt different, worse and less gradual than before. From the moment I stepped off my plane, it hit me like the unexpected sucker punch from a 7th grade squabble. I had no idea why or what was happening, but I instantly felt like balls. Like the morning after my 21st first birthday, it reeked of cheap chardonnay and disappointment. I could’ve puke, really. Landing in Tokyo for my first layover; regret encompassed my every being, WHY DID I CHANGE MY FLIIIIIIIGHT!!!!!!!!.
First Symptom: Rapid Thoughts.
Imagine being asked 10 questions, 2 at a time, with only seconds, sometimes less to respond or think of an answer. Now, imagine the voices all sound like you and some way your brain has managed to also start answering these questions. That is what was happening.
To myself, I was saying, “I shouldn’t have changed my flight. I should have saved more, seen more, did more. What the fuck was I thinking? Damn it Khaosan Road! Fuck, it's Christmas! I have to get back to Asia. I miss my friends. I hate Christmas. Damn you Tabit, you had one job. How do I get back to Asia as soon as possible? Really babe, kidney stones, what did you do to get those? I can’t believe she didn’t get the pictures, one job, man. I will drop kick that fucking tree down the basement stairs. He bet’ not have that tree up.
So many emotions flooded me at once. A tidal wave of sadness, anger, resentment evoking panic and anxiety. My lunges submerged, as I was drowning in a vortex of mental states. I could feel my eyes welling up with tears. I couldn’t stop it either, it was as if I woke from unconsciousness and experienced all aspects of human emotions for the first time. I lowered my head and proceeded to the nearest bathroom. Seriously, I couldn’t figure out what was going on with me. I fully expected to be a little down once I got home, but damn dude, I’m only a few hours into my trip home, and I’ve reached a defcon5 level freak-out. Luckily, I had two hours before boarding the plane.
Second symptom: Manic Happiness
On the plane to Chicago, I chugged 3 glasses of wine, which was enough to convince myself “you will be back, you did it once, you can do it again.” Why couldn’t I just leave it at that? One more glass of wine would have been all it took to shut the inner voice off and sleep. So, what do I do next, I get happy. Folks, I’m talking overly optimistic, delusions of grandeur, “nothing can stop me, I sail by the wind in my hair, fly by the seat of my pants.”
The next 2 hours I go ham, taking notes, snapping pictures of the clouds, (still not fellin’ Christmas), I’m thinking “I’m doin’ the damn thing, making list like a serial killer, murdering it.” I had lists, for days. Like all the things I can do to make my blog profitable, to do list for improving my website design, post ideas, book idea, places I can apply once I get home, what jobs I can do overseas. I was higher than a giraffe’s ass on optimism, and it was good, while it lasted.
Third Symptom: Insomnia, Rapid Thoughts, Manic Sorrow. Darkness.
Trying to rest, unsuccessfully, my mind began bouncing between pessimistic junctures of self-doubt, and the cowardly, voice of reason. Rushing through my veins like a paralyzing venom, depleting my self-esteem, the darkness had disguised itself as reality. The blissful, goal oriented, hopeful list maker, had been silenced. Now what remained was the discouraging intonation of defeat and hopelessness. Thinking of all the lists, notes, ideas, and challenges to come, it was draining and daunting.
“Where do I start? Should I make another list, I need to organize these lists. I forget how to use my website edit program! My emails will take days to clear. What post do I write first? No, not that one, the other one. I’ll never get this started. Thailand was a bust. You have nothing to offer, you don’t know how to write a book, why would they listen to you anyway.” See, Rapid Thoughts, Low Feeling Mania. Darkness.
Home. Sleep. Jet Lag. Recovery.
For days upon arrival, I laid up in my house, re-cementing the imprint of my ass in my couch, trailing in and out of naps. I think I watched 7 weeks’ worth of saved DVR programs for almost 3 days. I called my friend and vented, ate my weight in peanut butter chip cookies, bacon, and Munchos, and awaited jet lag. It struck, hard AF, and was exactly what I needed. My sleep and eating habits, my mind -all required a restart button.
Within two days, it had vanished. The darkness had come and gone like a summer storm. The truth is I know it will return for some reason or another, and that’s okay. Humans experience and emotions go hand in hand. For me, today, I have learned to appreciate the darkness. Without it I may not fully value the exquisiteness of the light. I am back to writing, networking, and taking the steps needed to get back on the road. Now, it's up to me to make things happen.
Folks, this is how I see things; sadness, depression, happiness, same-same but different. Our emotions are what make us human and feeling them, is only natural. I try not to let the strength of said emotion take over, but it happens. I know that many people need more than words, rest, and support to get through it, and for some, it is downright unbearable. You can get through this. I take it one episode at a time, learn from what I experienced and use it as fuel to overcome it.
