I remember sitting on that Ryanair flight to Paris feeling crushed because -- although to those who were there experiencing everything with me, this may seem mundane, or ridiculous -- I felt like for the first time in my life I had found a lot of the things that I was searching for. I was leaving the things that I had wanted and was leading a life I had always dreamt of myself. I of course later really noticed that it wasn't necessarily one place that gave me that gift. Rather, I began to notice that everywhere outside of where I was coming from lead me to feel alive. And  it's not that I don't like where I am.... it's that I'm no longer growing or getting what I need.

Think of it this way: being in a relationship with a person but that person stopped providing a sense of growth to you. Rather you slipped into a sense of decay, a sense of repetition. And for someone like me, it's not good enough to be like this.

I feel like I'm sitting back in the place where I grew and expanded so much but I feel like in a way I rushed my way back to my gilded cage.

And now I'm here. Now I am back, and I feel lost, disconnected from my body, and from those around me because I'm just so unhappy being here. I'm not unhappy in the traditional sense. I'm unhappy more or less with myself because I haven't found the way to lead the life I know I can have; instead I'm leading the life I'm allowing myself to have because for a long time this was right for me, and it was what felt good.

I feel like I'm now swimming back to shore from the middle of the ocean. No sense of how to get there, no sense of how long it will take, and no sense of why I even jumped back right into the place where I escaped. But what I do know is that I feel a stronger sense of getting what I want no matter the cost of getting there. And yes. I am afraid that I am running away from a core problem, but I feel in my gut that this is what I need to do.

I came back and I feel like I'm still resting and charging up my batteries but I also feel like I want to remove the weights on my back. I don't know what anything means. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. And I don't know for sure what getting out will even lead me. But what I do know is that I can't continue doing this. I love it, yes. But love and comfort aren't all I need.

I'm confused, tired, searching, hungry, afraid, and paranoid.

I want to be perfect all the time. I want to make all the right choices. But I can't. And for all the wrong reasons doing that is going to kill me.

So I'm not sure what the past 8 months of my life have changed in me. I'm feeling like I need to unpack all the emotional stuff but I don't know how, or when, or if now is that time.

I don't know shit. And for now, that's okay. I'm human.

I think....

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