I’ve traveled lots, usually in six-week time frames, and it was always hard to get back in the swing of things – to set an alarm, to commute to the office, to reconcile what you’ve seen with where you live.
So I imagined it would be the same after coming home from a year of travel, perhaps a little bumpy at first but things would smooth out.
But they haven’t.
I’ve struggled with whether or not I should share what I’m going through because I don’t want people to think it’s something they said or didn’t say, they did or didn’t do, and I don’t want to appear ungrateful for the amazing life I live.
However, I’ve spent a year being vulnerable and writing about how I feel, and I don’t want to stop simply because I’m home and it’s hard.
Coming home after an extended time away is much harder than I expected. There’s the excitement of seeing family and friends, the joy of discovering the changes in your hometown, the bliss of snuggling into your own bed.
But there is also the...