Hitting the wall

I just closed the curtains in Mary’s room because it’s such a beautiful day in London, and I don’t want to see what I’m missing. I don’t feel like writing. Haven’t felt like it in a while. But it’s been too long and I’ve felt so worthless these last few days, I need to do something productive.

“Have you run out of things to write about?” my mom asked in an email a few days ago. That’s not the case. There’s always something to write about, even if it’s not earth-shattering material. It’s just the fact that I’m burnt out, physically and mentally.

With a one-hour exception yesterday, I haven’t left Mary’s apartment in three days. I’ve been sleeping in until 3 in the afternoon, taking long showers, and lying back down again. I haven’t been sick like this in a while. My nose is chapped from all the toilet paper rubbing against it. I never know what to wear since I sweat and feel freezing at the same time. There is a gland on the left side of my throat that is swollen to the point where my neck no longer looks symmetrical when I look in the mirror. I don’t feel like exploring. I don’t feel like traveling anymore. I just feel like sleeping. I’ve hit a wall, and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get through it or not.

***

Mary and I have a strange relationship. We’re not exactly sure how we know each other. We went to university together and have mutual friends, but that’s the best we could come up with. Regardless, when she asked if I’d like to meet up with her in London, I said yes.

I was a bit nervous as I waited for her to appear outside of Euston station since I wasn’t sure on what level we would click. I didn’t know if I’d stay for the afternoon, share an awkward conversation and head in another direction, or spend most of my time in London wither her. The latter has been the case, but neither of us could have guessed how we’d be spending our time together. The first night we partied late into the night. I had a bit of a sore throat, but felt no symptoms after a few drinks. Ever since the following morning, she’s been the nurse and I’ve been the patient. She reminds me when it’s time to take my medicine and checks my temperature. Her and her friend Jess brought me a grilled cheese sandwich and apple slices since I didn’t have the energy to hunt down my own food. Mary kept me company in the indoors, watching six movies two days ago and a couple more yesterday. I apologized that this had to be her first impression of me, but she seems to have taken it in stride.

I really lucked out having my illness occur while around such kind people, but on the flipside, I do feel guilty this is how I had to enter Mary’s life. I leave for Scotland in two days. I hope the next time we meet I will be up for a bit more.

***

I arrived in England over two weeks ago. I don’t know where to begin reporting what I’ve been up to. Normal things really. I got my third tattoo – a compass on my left calf – done in Camden Market in London – a famous hippy hangout. I met up with three friends I met in New Zealand – two English guys, Jim and Tom, and a Swedish girl, Helen. It’s strange to think that we had old memories to talk about, yet they were from this same trip. Helen and I went to London together where we stayed with family friends of hers – the Benjamins. They treated me like their own son, doing my laundry, cooking for me, making me feel at home as much as possible. Maybe it’s all become too easy and no longer challenging. England is a lot like the states, just with older buildings, different accents and bad service at the restaurants. Maybe the lack of challenge is why I’ve hit the wall.

I was planning on staying in Bristol for the better part of five weeks, possibly finding work, but after a complicated situation, I had to get out. I don’t feel like going into details. You’ll have to read the book when it comes out to get the entire story.

For now, that should catch you up a bit. I’m sorry this was nothing too special. Like I said, I don’t feel like writing anymore, but I felt like I needed to let you know where my mind was at. This next chapter will be about trying to break through this wall I’ve hit. If I can’t, I may have to come home.

***

I wrote this yesterday. Today, I feel a bit different. I woke up, around 3 this afternoon, with a refreshed attitude. My plans for heading to Africa in a few weeks are confirmed, so I'm not heading home anytime soon.

I did some people watching out the window, trying to appreciate the little things in life like I used to. I found myself smiling again. Like I’ve said before, it’s a mental rollercoaster. I had an extensive dream this morning that my friends had a comeback party for me, but no one paid attention to me as if they forgot who I was, and no one asked questions, as if I had nothing to show for the past six months. I didn’t know what to make of it. It was sad, but it wasn’t real, and at least I got to see my friends. Maybe that’s my biggest fear, that I have nothing tangible to show for this journey.