Airport transit thoughts

Posted on August 21, 2014


It’s crazy the thoughts that pass through your head when you’re in transit.

It’s just gone midnight, and I’m in Dubai. Never quite stepped foot in the sand, but this will be my 3rd or 4th time at this airport. 2nd time in the last few months.

One minute I was there – in Nairobi, albeit tired and confused and not necessarily looking forward to the next half of my volunteering project, but going to do it anyway, then a week later I was exhausted, an emotional wreck, crying alone in my room in the evenings, avoiding dinner so I didn’t have to have any face time with anyone.

As I withdrew, I knew something wasn’t right. I started feeling like I needed to take myself away, planning my escape route. One of the other volunteers was leaving themselves, after only a few days and so I bagged a ride with her to Nairobi and checked myself into a £60 a night hotel and didn’t leave my hotel room for 2 days, ordering room service, eating overpriced snacks from the mini bar, eating ridiculously priced steak and watching back to back movies.

I planned to seek out Nairobi’s open NA meetings, I even got so far as finding out where they were and ensuring I stayed in a hotel that was near one of them. But once I’d gotten into that huge hotel bed with the soft fresh white linen and the amazing 6th floor views, I just couldn’t be arsed to move.

I returned on Sunday to a nearby town where my friend lives, an intended one night stop over before heading back to my hotel. I asked my boss if I could alternate between the two locations focusing on tasks I had promised them I would do, excited, genuinely for my new focus and role.

Then the call from my mortgage advisor came – and reality beckoned. Suddenly it dawned on me how screwed I could be if I didn’t sort my remortgaging out. Turned out that being self-employed for less than 3 years on a shared ownership scheme meant that no one would loan me the money. A quick glance at my bank account, and within minutes I just knew I had to go home.

And here I am – 2 days and a belly full of sushi later. Wondering what’s my next move. Disappointed in myself for giving up, for leaving, but equally pleased that it’s done, that I no longer have to endure the almost crippling isolation and frustration I was feeling. Guilty, at the same time, for just leaving – feeling bad for all the friends I’d made and people I met. Deep down intending to go back as soon as I can, worried that I may not.

Whilst in Kenya I got involved in starting a new business –  my friend’s really, but she brought me on as co-founder. She needed me and I left her, but what could I do? I need to go back, I have to find some funds to help make this business a reality, it’s a sacrifice I suppose. Hopefully one day we’ll look back when it is up and running and we’re happy and doing great work and we’ll appreciate our lot, we’ll appreciate what we have.

I hit a spiritual crisis whilst out in Kenya. I lost touch with it. I was pulled so far away from that core – that feeling of happiness and certainty and clarity and it’s ironic really, how I went to a spiritual healer before I left, asking her to help me clear my blocks around feelings of insecurity, depression and fear. And what happened? My fears came to be realised – I felt tremendous amounts of all those things. Which begs the question – can we ever shake of our darkness? Or will it always present itself when we’re isolated or alone?

Connection was the biggest thing I struggled with this past 2 months. Not being able to connect with people on a level – sure I made connections, I was hardly starved of it. Surface level connections were aplenty, and I suppose for some people that’s enough. I guess I seek something deeper, and without those intimacies, I felt rather alone, and I didn’t like the way the darkness was seeping in, it was challenging me, constantly, and I couldn’t shake it.

When I get back to the UK, I just wanna spend some time locked away in my flat decompressing. I don’t wanna talk to anyone, I just want to catch up on all my favourite tv shows, watch movies and vegetate and sleep. I need my private time, 2 months without it, even though the last week I had my own private room, the damage had been done I think.

I really wanna focus as well on this new work opporutnity and write a training curriculum – its in my bones and its bubbling and I want to do a good job of it. And then earn some money, by hook or by crook I need to earn some money.