No place like home
There is no place like home. Seeing your house again after a trip is an amazing feeling. From the moment you feel the wheels of the plane touch the ground to the first touch of the door handle. That whole trip is emotional in so many different ways. I feel sad because of leaving a beautiful time, I feel glad that I can go back to a place I know and that is safe, I feel stressed because I need to do a lot of things again. All these emotions going through your head in just 2 hours.
Two hours of pure happiness, of pure sadness, of pure everything my mind is clear no cloud to be seen. All the clouds have passed during that little break, my mind fully focused again and ready to go. But is that a healthy mindset? I don’t know yet. I just don’t know if I need that mindset of needing a vacation once in a while. That question has been going through my mind these last few days. There is no place like home I keep telling myself but then again I feel like my home should be everywhere. I should feel safe everywhere I go, feeling comfortable with what I do all around the world not just at home.
The car stops my dad telling me we arrived home my mind snapping back to reality, letting go of those questions. I step out of the car smelling the trees outside my home, feeling the texture of the tiles beneath my feet and seeing the green door in front of my eyes. Next to it a glass panel with the names of my mom and dad. Don’t ask me why me and my sister ain’t on that glass panel but that’s just the way it has been for, well all my life. I grab my bag go up to the door touch the hard, cold and sharp door handle pushing the key into the keyhole fumbling around to open the door. Yes, I fumble around because that damn door won’t open you need a specific pressure to open it, it’s really strange but that reminds me of home as well. All the imperfect things about home that make it perfect.
The door finally opens, I hear that squicking noise that pierces through your ears making them ring a little. I look into the hallway see the mirror at the end of the hallway look in it and see myself. That’s the moment I completely realize I am back home, I am where I feel safe and uncomfortable at the same time. A place where I can do what I love to do, a place that allowed me to grow, a place that feels calm and relaxed but stressed and busy at the same time. Why? It’s the people that live here, we are hard workers, stressful workers, and that feeling is transferred to the house.
But yet I call this place a safe haven. Everything I need to survive is right here. I can sleep, eat and do whatever I like to do without the opinions of others. At least I think so, but at the same time, I feel like there is a massive pressure on my shoulders. A pressure that I created myself, a pressure that is linked to this very place, this house of mine. I just don’t know, I just have been asking myself all these ‘why’ questions. About why I feel this is stressful, why I feel this is a failure, why I feel that I ain’t doing enough. I just ain’t good enough for myself in so many ways and I don’t talk about that a lot and I don’t show it a lot. But I just never been satisfied with the things I’ve achieved and I am scared of failing. Failing to hit my goals, failing to satisfy others and reach up to their expectations. All of those thoughts were clear and on one line just a week ago. But that week of rest, that week of doing the things I truly love made me realize that there is so much more to this life than just training yourself to eventually do a 9 to 5 job.
And I hate that I leave you guys with a why question these last few days but I just don’t know any other way of ending this for myself. I can’t close this off yet and I don’t know how to fix this myself so I can’t give you an advice. The only thing I can say to you is to try to except that you ain’t sure about things and try to figure out why you think this isn’t the right decision instead of figuring out if this actually was the right decision.
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