Chasing Amy-Lou

We’ve all read those articles online, the ones that saturate the internet, all trying to sound different but ultimately repeating the same message. We’ve all seen the travel blogs; we’ve all tried to feel that empathy with a returning traveller, tried to grasp just what they’re going through when they eventually take a break in their wanderings and fly back home, back to reality.

It’s the same story over and over again: returning travellers write of that disconcerting feeling of loss; the dreaded feeling of being totally alone; that frustration when no-one seems to understand them anymore; seeing that nothing has changed but realising that in fact, absolutely everything has changed.

And these repetitive blogs, the ones that churn out the same old lines, the same old ‘woe is me’ sentiments and the same old stories about how hard it is to cope with life back home, well, they wouldn’t be in such abundance if they weren’t actually true. They’re all true. Too true.

I knew settling back in to life at home would be hard. Shit, I knew it’d be extremely hard, but what I didn’t realise was just how difficult it actually is.

I’m back in the UK a month now, and the first few weeks I thought I was coping quite well. I realise now that I’m not. I’m not coping at all.

There are times when, although I have a roof over my head (albeit my mum’s), although I don’t have to pay rent (having no wage yet makes that a little difficult), although I managed to find a job within a week of being back in the country, although I have loving friends and family around me, I can’t help but feel a little lonely, lost, bereaved and longing for something that isn’t home; something that is anywhere but here.

I sometimes find myself frustrated when talking to my family – they’re having the same conversations about the same things they were talking about before I left. They have the same grievances but this time with a different government and a different political system. They don’t really go anywhere, or do anything…or even if they do they don’t elaborate on the facts or the details, something I’d love to hear about. I love my family…but I can’t relate to them in the same way anymore, not really.

As for my friends, brilliant as they are and I love them all dearly, like my family, they are all continuing the journey they were on before I went away; they’re still on the same path. They’ve seen and followed my antics through social media and even though I’m still dying to talk about my time away, they’re not asking anymore, because, well, they have their own lives and their own problems. A lot of them have families of their own; a lot are buying houses and a lot have settled down with respective partners. I admire them for this and am also a little envious that they seem to be so stable. However, I can’t relate to that lifestyle anymore.

Co-workers sit and chat about plastic surgery and reality TV; they talk about designer belts and pumping iron in the gym; they discuss how long they’re going to spend on getting ready for a night out and they debate trivial matters that I find completely dull and uninteresting. They talk about going travelling when really, they’re just booking a two week holiday to Thailand. I don’t really have a desire to engage in superficial conversations with them and I find myself increasingly bored by it all. They aren’t bad people, in fact, some are downright lovely and funny, but sometimes I feel so alienated, like I don’t have anything in common with them, and would struggle to converse with them if thrown into a social situation outside the workplace.

None of this is bad. None of this is wrong. This is their reality, their norm; their lives. I don’t have problems with how my family, or friends, or co-workers live their lives – but it’s not the way I want to live my life anymore…at least I don’t think I want to live like that anymore. I almost feel sad. I feel like my journey began a year ago and I feel as if I’m still on it. I don’t feel like I’ve finished. I haven’t found the end of the road yet, and I don’t want to find the end of the road. I feel as if my journey has only just begun. I feel as if I have hundreds of different paths to choose from and that’s a fantastic thing, but I don’t feel as though anyone shares my thoughts or dreams; I don’t feel as though anyone really knows what’s going on inside my head.

The only people I feel I have anything in common with? The people I know nothing about. The people I want to discover things about; fellow travellers; fellow thinkers; fellow soul-searchers; people who look at the world through different eyes; people whose minds have been opened to new and exciting possibilities; people who are willing to take risks; people who are spontaneous; people who try to remain positive and happy, whatever the situation; people who don’t conform; people who are happy to be different; people who have love in abundance and aren’t afraid to show it; people who challenge social norms; people who want to explore the world, who want to love the world and all it has in it.

It’s true that most travellers will feel like this at some point; the various blogs say it all, don’t they? A lot will settle back into the humdrum of ‘normality’ and day to day life as we know it. A lot will find jobs they love; a lot will fall in love; a lot will fall back into the lives they had before; and a lot will begin a new journey back home, a new challenge.

For people like myself though, it’s not as easy. I knew as soon as I landed back in the UK that I wanted to leave again. The fear of dread as I stepped off the plane was more real than I ever expected. Aside from my wonderful family and friends, I have zero commitments here. I have nothing tying me to this one place I call home.

Maybe I’m over exaggerating things. Maybe I’m omitting the truth for the sake of a good blog post. Maybe I’m writing this while feeling ill. Maybe I’m having an off day and my emotions are overly heightened. Maybe my brother pissed me off and all I can think about is running away. Maybe I have mild ADHD and can’t sit still for long enough, always seeking out something new; like a child who’s had too many E numbers. Maybe I’m scared of being alone in someone else’s reality. It doesn’t matter though, because deep down, I know that for the majority, my sentiments are genuine.

And that’s why it’s important for people like me, like you, like us, to try and not let the stresses and strains of ‘real life’ get us down. In the short month I’ve been back (and it has flown by, believe me), I’ve been more tense, angry and anxious than I have been for a long time. And it scares me, as it’s not the person I am anymore, not the person I want to turn into – who wants to be stressed and angry all the time? Jeez, it’s no way to live life is it? It scares me to think I might lose the drive I had while travelling; the positive, happy go lucky attitude; it scares me to think my hopes, dreams and determination may fade away, as I slip into routine monotony.

That’s why we need to remain positive and focused and keep our eyes on the road, looking out for the next opportunity, or the next turn that could lead us somewhere new. ‘Real life’ for most people I know is not the ‘real life’ I want; not at the moment anyway (yes, kids and marriage are still in my head but that will come). Maybe in five years-time I’ll want the idealistic lifestyle but who’s to say what the ideal/perfect lifestyle is?

There is no rule book. There’s no rule book that tells you how you must live or what road you must follow. And believe me, there’s certainly no rule book that tells you how to react or how to handle returning from a year away, where you experienced a lifetimes worth of adventures in a short space of time. If there was, I’d have had my copy on order since last year!

Already though I have a new focus – getting back to Australia in 2016…and…my visa has been granted (yay!) so all I need to do now is start saving (oh, and paying off my gargantuan debts…oops). Knowing that I have that to aim for is one of the things helping me to get through this difficult period, a period I know won’t and can’t possibly last.

And as for the rest? Well, coping with being back home can be made easier by making little changes and adapting to other people’s way of life. It’s hard to adjust to ‘normal’ living when you’ve been alien to it for a long time, so consideration has to be taken with behaviour and attitude – no more walking around the house in just my pants. Damn it.

If you’ve returned from travelling and feel like a charity case, skint, without a pot to piss in, just remember, I’m almost 30 and I’m living back with my mum. Again. *sarcastic thumbs up*  But so what, there’s plenty of people in my position and I know it won’t be forever, so keeping that in mind helps to ease the pain too.

It’s also good to keep yourself busy, whether it’s re-joining the gym (something that is top of my list, especially now I have a desk job!), making a scrap book, writing in that journal you bought at the beginning of your trip but haven’t noted a single word in yet, or simply reading a new book.

Make time to visit relatives and friends too and invest time in the people you care about, no matter how difficult it may be. But most of all make time for yourself and don’t be too hard on yourself and others. The road was never meant to be smooth, and it was never intended to be easy but knowing where you’re at and having some idea of where you want to go may make the ride that little bit more enjoyable.