new year, new you?

As I sit here alone on the night of New Years, I reflect on all events that have occurred in the last 12 months, and I am grateful for the chance to start a fresh new year in a few hours. I chose to spend New Years alone, not for lack of parties I have been invited to, but for the chance to end my worst year on record by myself, in my own way, on my own terms. I spent the better half of my year catering someone else, when I should have been continuing to be the independent person I have always been. I made the choice to scramble around to save a relationship, that wasn't really worth trying to save. It's funny how we do that, we can feel it slipping away and we grasp at anything to hold on, but when one person checks out, is it really worth being a part of anyways? I have come to that realization lately, that maybe I am in love with the person I fell in love with, but not the person he has become. And that's okay. But what matters is loving yourself more than anything. And I never really did stop loving myself.

So for my new year's night, I choose to sit on my couch, with a movie on, and I have applied to about 10-15 schools overseas for the new school year (August/September 2015) and wrote a strong piece of writing for a writing contest that I have been meaning to enter but never felt inspired to do until tonight. I have also chosen to keep my phone up in my room, away from me, and at some point in the night, or early tomorrow morning, I will deactivate my Facebook account and delete my instagram app. This has been something I have been struggling with on and off, for most of the year really. I enjoy the accessibility of keeping in touch with friends, especially being someone who is constantly moving across the world and/or country. Having met so many people in my life, and in my travels especially, who live so far away, social media has always been a way to keep in touch, without a lot of effort really needed to do so. But in the grand scheme of things, is that really keeping in touch? If we want to keep in touch with someone, for real, do we need to see all they post on Facebook or instagram? Don't get me wrong, I know I post a lot, on both. I enjoy sharing my photos of my adventures, and a selfie or two or three. I am not opposed to that. It's the lack of real communication that I find disheartening. We find out our friends are engaged/pregnant/moving/happy/sad.. and so on, by reading our news feeds. We no longer tell each other on the phone or face to face, everyone will know your news with the click of a mouse. We no longer send letters or postcards, we can easily see pictures from your trip on instagram or read about your life in your Facebook status. We torture ourselves with creeping people's social media that we really don't actually want to look at. And even if we don't creep, it's rubbed in our faces in other ways. We can't escape it. No matter what we do, we know everything about everyone, even the people we would rather avoid. And that's the way the world works right now. And some may say I am hypocritical to complain, as I sit and write personal information on this very blog, and maybe you are right. But I choose to write about my journey because I enjoy the art of writing. I don't believe this is the equivalent to a personal Facebook status that some would say is "TMI". Or a revealing selfie showing off a little more of my body than should be shared on instagram.

It bothers me a little that some people may think I deleted them as a way to seek attention, or what have you. It bothers me that some people are probably talking about me right now saying 'did you see Sara is deleting her social media? I bet it's because… (whatever reason you may be thinking)' or 'I don't think Sara will last very long off social media'. And that's fair. Everyone is welcome to judge me as they please. I do use social media quite a bit. I enjoy sharing my adventures through pictures on instagram, especially having improved upon my photography skills. I enjoy sharing the things my students say to me that I find amusing, as I know others will too. I post a lot, and I am not ashamed of it. There is nothing wrong with that. So if you are on social media, post away. As long as you are posting in a positive way. There's a tendency to use social media negatively. I see people posting pictures of strangers in order to judge their choices publicly. Some people choose to post things to incite jealousy in others. Some people choose to social media bully others, using hashtags to insult others or what have you. For those of you who do this, I ask of you to rethink your decisions on social media. Spread positivity, karma is real.

Back to the point, as I made my declarations of cleansing myself of social media in the new year for as long as I choose to do so, I was pleased to find my email and phone with messages of support from friends and acquaintances alike. They say it is not only the people liking your pictures/statuses and such that are paying attention, and they are right. It was nice to get messages of support from some friends who I would expect it from, and from others who are more unlikely. It made me feel like maybe social media does connect people a little more than I thought it did. Maybe once I cleanse myself for my own reasons, and feel comfortable in returning to the realm of social media, I will work on making a change. I will not let it dictate my life in any way. I will use it to spread positivity and use it as a way to connect with others on a more meaningful level.

But until then, tonight I will bid farewell to social media and all things associated. I will live in real time, real life. I will write blogs of my adventures, my travels. I will add pictures to share the beauty of the places I go and things I see. I will never stop taking pictures of the places and I go and the things I see, but I will be more cautious of why I am sharing it and who for.

So Happy New Year to those who may read this. Thank you for reading my blog and sharing in my journey with me. Here's to starting the first day of 2015 with the person who I love most, me :)

writing on writing

Why do you write? Why do I write? Why do writers write? Some writers right for entertainment purposes. Some write for informative purposes. Some write to present findings in studies. Some write about others. Some write about themselves. Some write fiction. Some write non-fiction. There are many reasons why writers write. And I by no means consider myself a writer, but I have my own reasons too.

When I started this blog, I wanted it to be about my life, my experiences, my travels. I started writing it as a means to write about what I go through in my adventures. It ended up taking a more personal turn than I had originally planned. And I will never truly apologize for that. It is my writing, and my blog, and I do not believe we should ever be sorry for what we write. We should never feel like censoring what we chose to write about. But I also would never want to hurt or defame anyone. That would never be my intentions.

I am going through a very emotional period in my life. For some reason, writing in this blog has been helping me through it. It has been therapeutic and cathartic to me. It is helping me make sense of the pain inside me that my head and heart just don't seem to be able to sort out for themselves. I still hurt on a daily basis. Whether I show it or not, through my every day appearance, writing, pictures or whatever else makes up my life, I am in constant emotional pain. I try to make sense of it by writing about it. And it may not be the socially acceptable way of dealing with it. It may not be how you, or others you know, deal with it. But it is how I have chosen to deal with it, because it helps me. I have never been one to do things the way I am told is better or right. I will always march to the beat of my own drum, because I truly do not care what you think of me as a result of the way I chose to do things.

When I write about my ex, and what I am going through, I don't do this for people to feel sorry for me. To sympathize with me. I don't do this for people to hate him. I don't hate him, so why should anyone else? He is a wonderful person, if he wasn't, I wouldn't be trying to maintain some form of friendship with him at this point. It wouldn't be so hard for me right now if he was a complete asshole and a horrible person. The reason I write about the experience I am going through with him, is merely a means to understanding why I am here. Why I moved to the other side of the world to get away from it all. Why it makes me anxious to go home. Why I can't seem to cut him out of my life, when every one I know tells me it would be easier or better that way. I would never want my writing to be taken as cheap shots at him. Or ways to make others dislike him. I write my experiences, my feelings and my thoughts. If you read it, you will notice a theme. A theme of love. Regardless of what has happened between us, I still love the guy. And maybe some think I should be over that by now, and maybe some might think that I am pathetic. And maybe I am. But this is just my story. I am not perfect. I never claimed to be. I have always been nothing but honest and open.

I am an emotional person. I always have been. As I sit here and write this, the tears pour down my face because I have just never been able to hold them back when they form in my eyes. This has been a very hard year for me. I have never felt so vulnerable, alone and insecure in my life. And I am trying to find a way back to the independent, strong person I was. I know she is in there somewhere. She is just hurting and trying to make sense of how she got so lost.

So to everyone out there writing, I say write on. Write what you feel. Write what you know. Write for whatever reasons you have to write. Whether it's for an audience, or yourself, or both. Others will judge you for everything you do in life, so write on if you have something you care to write about. And never apologize for your writing. My sister told me that. And she's right. Not everyone will like it. Not everyone will hate it. But if writing serves the purpose you intend, write on.

anxiety on flight 288

I have never had a problem flying. No anxiety. No discomfort. I've flown across the world, more than once. Had multiple layovers, long flights. Not once have I ever been scared or anxious. Maybe tired or bored, but I am a good flyer. This past weekend I flew home to surprise my mother and grandmother for my grandmother's 90th birthday. It was a short trip of two days, and a long flight for such a short one.

The weeks leading up to this flight home I was feeling anxious. I recently learned my ex, whom I can't stop loving no matter how hard I try, has his new Australian girlfriend moving to Canada to be with him in a few months. The thought of this makes me not want to return home at all. Without getting into the whole back story of the two of them, it makes me anxious. Every time I think about going home again, the thought of running into the two of them makes me unable to breathe. I like to think I'm a stronger person than that but apparently I am not as strong as I pretend to be. Regardless what I've been told, I will never truly believe I wasn't left for the foreign girl who seemed much more appealing than working on a great relationship that clearly only meant something to one of us. So here in lies my anxiety. I try to meditate. I try to exercise my demons out. But the anxiety takes over every time I think about going home. 

Flight from Vancouver to Whitehorse, window seats are the best

So I arrive at the airport, having had a horrible sleep the night before. It's 4:45am, I arrive just as they are starting to check people in, only to find out the computers aren't working and they have to check everyone in manually. With an hour to my flight, I knew I would be missing my connecting flight. As I approached the counter, they tell me that I no longer have the seat I chose and I will have to go get my luggage in Vancouver, and then get my next boarding pass and recheck my luggage. I could feel the anxiety getting worse. It was like there was an air pump in my lungs but instead of pumping in air, it was sucking it out. As I waited in the airport to board my flight, I saw my take off time, come and go. After over a hour, we finally boarded and took off. That flight, one of the shortest I've done. Was one of the hardest. As I sat in my seat, I felt the walls closing is around me. I made a beeline for the washroom and spent the next however many minutes (I lost track) having a full blown anxiety attack. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I was crying. I was curled in a ball on a dirty airplane bathroom floor all alone. And I didn't know what to do. How to stop it. Until I finally just knew I had to get a grip and let it pass. I don't know how long I was in there for, but I came out of there with air in my lungs. But anxiety filled me, down to my core. 

I arrived in Vancouver as my connecting flight took off, but I was lucky enough to have my luggage come out first. I ran to reprint my boarding pass for my next flight, which had already been rescheduled to 30 mins after my original. By the time I got up to recheck my bags, that flight left too. So now I was told I was being out on standby and that I can go sit for two hours at one gate and wait, and if they don't call my name before they board, I do the same at the next gate, and the next, and so on. I walked to the gate. Sat down. And all of the sudden I felt it again. The same feeling I had on the plane. The walls were closing in. I got up and quickly walked to the bathroom and let the walls of the stall close in on me. I was shaking. I couldn't catch my breath. Because of this, I almost choked. This time I felt like my heart was beating out of my chest. I sweat through my sweatshirt. I had never been through this before and I can't imagine going through it again. I spent most my layover in a bathroom stall trying to get a grip on reality. 

Flight from Vancouver to Whitehorse

After I made it back to the gate, I listened to the names called out that were on standby. Name after name, I got more anxious and sweaty. I bet I looked super suspicious and weird. I heard a few names called more than once until finally I was the last name called before boarding. I was finally heading home. 

This flight went smoother than the last. I didn't freak out. That is until the plane landed and everyone got up to get off. I felt claustrophobic for the first time. All I wanted to do was get off that plane. I started shaking a bit and just trying to take deep breaths to stop myself from not being able to breathe. And as I stepped off my plane, I turn on my phone to have the first text I receive be the person who made me anxious to come home in the first place. I want to say it was comforting but it wasn't. I wish I could've ignored it. But I couldn't. It's funny how things happen this way. 

So here I am, back to my 'home' after a week home. My flight back here, much easier. And I continue my efforts to meditate and exercise to work through the anxiety in hopes that my flight home for Christmas in less than two weeks is much less stressful. Here's hoping for a smoother day of flying.

Flight from Vancouver to Whitehorse