Bed for One

I contemplated bringing this post over because it was one of my more ’emotional’ posts. But you know what? I’m going to stop being a coward and stop shying away from expressing my emotions. Screw the fear of letting people know; the post is already up.

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Travellers.

There are so many different types of travellers/ backpackers out there.

Travellers who…
want to see the world.
want time alone to see the world.
want a break from life to go see the world.
want to find themselves along the way as they see the world.

quit their job to see the world.
take a gap year to see the world.
have crazy adventurous friends who want to see the world.
are dying to get out of their country to see the world.

& then… there’s me.
The traveller who is
broken,
lost,
stuck in life,
needing to find herself,
wanting to hide from reality,
uncertain what the future holds,
dying to get away to see the world.

I am the traveller who’s found a cowardly way to run away from all her problems by dropping everything in her life, letting go, and leaving.

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On 5th May ‘15, I had this crazy idea to buy a one-way ticket to escape from my life. Unfortunately, it wasn’t crazy enough for my conscious mind to disagree with my thinkings.

I usually weigh the pros and cons before making a major decision/ move. My mind often has more negative thoughts than positive. You may call me… a closet pessimist.

The only major problem I had to consider if I left was “what happens next?”.

What happens when I come back?
When am I coming back?
How long am I going to last out there with a limited amount of money?
Am I ready to drop and go?
Is this ‘easy way out’ worth sacrificing my job for?

Okay, I lied. There wasn’t a major problem. There were many major problems.

& I thought of everything I’ve gone through so far. My emotions, my pain, my feelings, so on so forth (I’ll touch more on that later). My mind wasn’t stopping me, sadly. There was this feeling that was egging me on to pack and go.

So I did it. I booked a ticket to Chiang Mai on Tiger Air for two days later. This was it. I still had time to back out. My impulsiveness cost me $158 but I’ll never be able to put a price on the mistake that I was going to make.

6th May ’15
I called in sick for work. I needed the day to sort out my thoughts, feelings, and packing list. I was about to go through with the biggest mistake of my life.

Headed to Geylang to change money, packed my bags, broke the sudden news to my parents at night that I was leaving the next day. I couldn’t bear to leave without giving them a heads-up. I’ve already failed my duties as a daughter.

It was an emotional day for me. I couldn’t stop harboring thoughts of being a disappointment to my family and colleagues. But I needed to go. The urge to pull through with my decision grew stronger.

That night I cooped myself up in the room and wrote a letter to my best friend, explaining what I’ve done and briefly what my other option other than to travel was – suicide. Didn’t have the heart to break the news to her while she was on her holiday.

& as I wrote an apology letter to my family, hidden somewhere in my room for if (touch wood) there were any mishaps, the tears couldn’t stop falling. I felt shitty, felt like a wreck. But I guess anything would be better than ending my life… right?

7th May ’15
The. day.
My flight was 11.55pm. I think my puffy eyes was a dead giveaway that I was crying.

My dad’s a smart man. He said things like “are you okay?”, “don’t do silly things”, and that struck an emotional chord in me. I was going to leave without saying a proper goodbye. It didn’t help that Mother’s Day was coming.

Reached the airport early. I think subconsciously I wanted to be into the departure gates quick because there would be no way out after.

So many thoughts. So many things to say. Goodbyes had to be made.

Once I was in the boarding gate, right before the row I was sitting at was called to enter (19F), I said my goodbyes.

Sent a long message to the close friends – one I drafted the night before – then disabled whatsapp and put the phone to airplane mode.

With the iPad, I sent a short email to the bosses to let them know I wasn’t coming to work anymore. I don’t need anyone to tell me how irresponsible I am, or how I’ve screwed myself over for the future. But sometimes you just know that you need to go.

& with that, I boarded the plane with an extremely heavy heart. I couldn’t stop the stupid mind from thinking; tears would constantly fall. My sniffing nose and occasional swiping of tears from my face was a giveaway that I was tearing. No sunglasses would be able to hide that fact.

I told myself to be strong for one last time and things would change once I got to Chiang Mai. Once I reached not-so-foreign land, I would be liberated but not free from my emotional guilt.

When I reached the hostel, I felt an overwhelming feeling of loneliness and vulnerability, and felt a bit small cause I was surrounded by so many Westerners.

I had to suck my feelings up. This was what I was going to live with for days to come.

& when I checked my Facebook, the messages came in. The worry, the blessings, the anxiety.

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Here I am now, living on a budget, hoping to stay on the road for months. Most of the emotional guilt is gone. I try to block out the thoughts once in awhile. I’m free now. Possibly happier and, at the moment, responsibility-free.

They say fall seven times, get up eight. But I’ve fallen so many times and I don’t want to get up anymore. It’s been exhausting trying to be so strong for so long.

I just want to lie here… and see the world of course.

‘Till then.

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Original post here.