an emptiness

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More often than not, when I travel I am nonchalant with excitement brewing in the pits of my stomach but upon return, I am left with an emptiness growing in the back of my mind.

Depression then settles within the everyday of my life like an unwanted visitor.

I am used to depression and the other mental disabilities/disorders it tows with it like sleep disturbances, loss of appetite and my favorite, "the gazing out the window" because I don’t think that has a name aside from longing.

When it comes to depression, I’ve got it down to a few checklists. Dealing with what seems to be clinical depression can be managed in many ways and I believe these past years has given me the power to be able to deal. Knowing when it has hit me is the easy part.

Time for peace and quiet is a golden gift.

Often, I have felt that the things I see and create reflect this principle. There is nothing more important to me than a chance to quiet the voices in my head and shutting up those telling me I can fight my depression.

When we went to Hakone, the second official day arriving in Japan, I knew my depression was creeping in. It wanted to remind me; despite the vacation, I was still not where I wanted to be. Metaphorically speaking.

The chance to be so far away from city civilization was a beautiful moment I could drink in. It was a limited moment but time felt long. I could breath again.

During this travel, I found that any moment I could spend just in empty thought was time I was spending rejuvenating myself.

I know I’ve been lost in weariness and anxiety ever since the year began and I turned another year older. The anxiousness comes with being almost 30. It also is a part of being a freelance artist. It’s normal as far as adulting goes. Therefore, any chance I could get to flush out my worries I took. There’s nothing worse than ruining your own vacation because of trivialities of a normal life.

What I’ve learned about my depression are priceless informations.

Knowing how to deal has been a great help with managing my day to day. Without the years of learning about myself and my depression, I don’t think I could even wonder about my next adventure.

I wish someone had told me these words a long time ago: take little steps at your own pace towards your own goal.

We are responsible for ourselves after all.