Back in London

It’s almost been 5 years since I left. Yet it feels like I never did. I am getting goosebumps writing this. The Smiths is playing on Spotify. Take me home tonight. Take me out tonight. Because I want to see people and I want to see life.

I see the light UK drizzle outside. Tears of happiness are running down my eyes. I can’t believe I’m back. I made it. I’m back. Back in my old flat. That’s a funny story. With my old furniture back. A bit rundown but the same. Like my body.

I had no idea. I would have never imagined. I wouldn’t believe you if you told me. Five years ago, I was running away. Now I’ve run home. It’s been less than a week yet it feels like a month. Feels like I’ve never left. I am fortunate. I know I am. I am also a survivor. I can’t believe I’ve survived this but I did.

In these past 5 years I found my father. In these past 5 years, I did years of therapy to get to the bottom of my anxiety and depression. In these past 5 years I got to know myself better that ever before.

I am glad I did this. Even though I didn’t know I had to. I neither had the insight nor the awareness 5 years ago. Imagine having to “put on hold” your life as it is today and go away for 5 years to work on yourself, pay your dues, pay back the debt from the time you’ve borrowed to keep going. I was in my late thirties. I now am in my early forties. I feel good! I feel good because of how much I’ve grown. I feel good knowing this is behind me.

As I was getting ready to leave Athens, I met with a friend. He said to me, “This is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen you as you are about to pack up and leave again.”

I am not running away anymore.