The blog that went rogue

Below is the post I wrote the other day, I think my second day in Sydney. I wanted to talk about two issues and they kept muddling together and I felt like this emotional ramble (because that's sort of what it is) lacks the economical use of words that I usually make my priority. I don't want my message to get lost in a wall of text, usually I only ever say as much as I believe is needed. 

Well, don't say I didn't warn you...

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Life isn't simple. We all know it can be hard, but it can also be complicated and there's not always a simple answer when we try to work things out or make decisions. Four years ago I went across the world and I fell in love, I know it was love, because the moment I left Wellington that first time, I knew I had to go back, so I abandoned my other travel plans, lost about £200 on accomodation and went back to Wellington. That's a little thing, a very little thing. To me it's a big thing, it's red lights big, it's alarm bells big. I don't just change plans, I don't deviate, I'm brittle with focus, I don't adapt, there is only ever one way. But, love has a funny way of inciting change, forcing us to choose another path when we find something we can't live without. 

If I tried to tell you the horrors that I contain in my mind, every day, you might not be surprised, I suspect a lot of people suffer far more than they let on to others, but if I were to tell you out loud the feelings I go through and the thoughts I have, they might seem alarming. When people know how much I stuggle to travel, how distressing every single day can be, they always seem to come back to the same, near incomprehensible, questions: Why? How? 

How is simple, I've said it before and I'll say it again, when you're scared all the time anyway, you might as well do something worth doing. (That sounds more like the why, but it's not) Put simply, how I manage is the same way I manage every day, and maybe that's a post for another time, but when you go through it all the time, you learn skills, sometimes they work, sometimes they don't, but you use them and that's how. 

But why? That's not so simple to explain. I suffer most days, I have abracelet that   reads "I am half agony, half hope", it is a quote from persuasion, I'd actually say it's more 70/30 myself. My whole life is one tumultuous internal struggle, and perhaps agony is the word that best describes the feelings. Fear battles excitement, isolation pushes against the need for space, bordom wrestles with a desire for inner calm. I have desperate feelings of loss and grief with no cause, I feel alone, I feel sad, I feel ashamed. 

With that in mind I feel I have two options, resignation; I could just give up, I could live with things as they are, or I could try to look for answers, try to change, learn, grow, discover, solve. 

So when I travel, it's really because all that fear and angst, all those tenuous moments and difficulties are better than the alternative, which is just to live with the agony every day for the rest of my life, and that's not something I can explain easily. 

I miss wellington, I miss it desperately, I feel such loss at leaving and I wonder why ever I thought I should travel anywhere else, why I didn't stay put there. On one hand I know, but on the other I still can't make sense of why I left. I love wellington, it is honestly my favourite place in the world, I have been four times now and I already wish to go back there. When I have spoken to people here, the same question has come up time and time again; why haven't you moved here? 

I honestly don't know, that complexity I was talking about, this is it, I can't work out why I keep visiting but I haven't moved, up until now I didn't even realise that wasn't 'normal', and I keep asking myself but I don't know. I don't care if it's 'normal' but if has brought up some questions. It's something I'm going to have to reflect on, I guess I don't know much about love.