Here are the reasons why, and as a testament to my instability, followed by ways I convince myself that everything will be ok.
1. I'm not going to be home.
Psh... this is easy. I haven't been home most of my life so the being at home actually feels more temporary than being somewhere else.2. What if I can't afford it?
I'm planning to earn a little while in Thailand. I have sources of income going on for me that I can manage to do while out and about. Whatever happens, I'll be sure to have enough cash in the bank to buy a ticket for home and run towards the open arms of my parents like a prodigal son. I hope.I'm an instinctive shopper. I deny impulse with the overwhelming supernatural experience of wanting to buy. So I am not impulsive only very, very instinctive.
Also, I'll be doing a freediving course. Which means efficient time management is a must to keep the monies coming in. This happens to be my weakest link. During my normal at-home work schedule, the AM is spent planning for productivity while the PM is spent crying over inefficiency and how I can never work. But I'm getting better. For sure.
(Unrelated story: Ok you know how Christian schools hammer the prodigal story into the minds of the future again and again. One time, when I was a kid, I dreamt that the prodigal son, after landing gently unto the undying parental love, proceeded to play a highly technical piece on the grand piano conveniently located within the scene. Is the root word of prodigal prodigy?)
3. My dog.
Imagine you have an old, rusty fork. Use it to stab your real heart. That is how I feel right now. This dog has been so nice to me and some of the other people he meets. This situation just breaks my whole structure of emotions into tiny little pieces, spits on it and sets it on fire. I'm sad, I feel sick about it, I feel irresponsible, I feel a whole of shits.But I also feel strongly that leaving is the right thing to do. Fortunately, domestic arrangements allow attentive, overly-loving care for the dog. But still, I cry so hard I drown.
4. I'm not going to like it.
I'm actually great at meeting people. I'm pretty sure I will like the whole experience. But liking it for three whole months sounds like an altogether different ballgame. For example, I liked HBOs The Leftovers. That was really good, like there was always tension as it should be given the plot. But after 2 and a half episodes, all I can understand is blagarjarblurblippblopp. I'm bored.
But I'm pretty stoked about the island I'll be staying on and all the diving I'll be doing.
I'm going to like it. There is at least 90% chance for that.
5. I'm going to be sent away by Immigration
I've invested a lot of emotions, not to mention resources, for this trip. What if I fall victim to the prejudice immigration officials generously give out at the airport?
I'm scared because the first time I flew abroad, I was meant to be off-loaded or to never leave the country at all. Mind you that I wasn't traveling alone. I was with my guardian. I was standing there helpless, planning to run through the slits in between the cubicles those officers sat in.
My mom, who wasn't going with us, was outside that area, ready to comfort me. I did cry.
And boom, a few phone calls later, I'm in the plane. Turns out I needed some sort of affidavit from my parents that they were letting me travel alone. Even though my mom was there practically pushing me away to visualize "I AM MOTHER. I AM LETTING OFFSPRING LEAVE" the piece of paper had to be there.
It was hectic, unpleasant and it made me feel so helpless that I don't even like thinking about it.
But now I have all the documents and I'm twenty-one.
With me are:
- The roundtrip tickets (canceling the return once I land in Phuket)
- My passport already with some helping of departure and arrival stamps to show that I don't violate things
- Wonderful speeches on my travel plans, the road to self-discovery, possible demise of consumerism and what needs to be done to complete a juju.
**
I've been reading a lot about pre-solo travel jitters and how to overcome them. Hopefully, when at Phuket, trying to block vestigial respiratory pathways to say Sawadee like a local, I'll be fine. Wish me luck.
