I have said it a million times and I will repeat it once more (sorry!): travelling is so overrated. It’s amazing, and vacations are fun, but I it puts me under so much emotional stress, that I need another vacation (at home) until I feel like myself again. Leaving my home empty while I’m gone makes me more stressed than anything else. A friend of mine recently got herself a home security camera internet monitoring system, which allowed her to check that her home was safe and secure while she was gone. I thought that this was a really interesting idea, but unfortunately, I had no such luck when I went on holiday.
I just got back from a month-long trip to Pakistan, and it was amazing. Beyond amazing. It was great to see my family after nine long months, and we were together (all six of us) after almost three years. Time flew by; first ten days were swallowed up by wedding preparations, next ten were spent busy with Eid and the little munchkin (my sister’s son), and last ten were all about leaving and things to do, people to see, stuff to buy while spending as much time at home as possible.
Before I had my fill, it was time to pack. Getting on that plane to Germany was difficult. While I couldn’t wait to see Mr. N, and the only thing that made this trip a stone’s throw away from perfect was that he wasn’t with me, it was difficult to wave my folks goodbye. I couldn’t decide whether I was happy on the flight or sad. My heart was pulled in two different directions, time zones and continents.
I spent a month at home. I was away for a month from home. I was leaving home. I was going home. It’s incredible how all of them are true at the same time. And that makes it so much more difficult than if I had just stayed home. It’s like leaving a piece of my heart behind in every visit. It’s such an emotional chaos that I can’t decide what to feel. And how shitty is that?
I am battling some serious post-vacay blues. So if you have any tips to help me through them, please do send them over. Until I am back to myself xx