Sorry about that… Yeah, over the past months I slacked off a lot in terms of blogging. If it wasn’t for my Instagram you could pretty much assume I was dead. I wasn’t. But it’s a pity days are only 24h long.
Time… It’s funny how day-by-day everything feels the same, but when we look back all’s different. Over the last 12 months my life changed enormously. From those 12, it’s been almost 9 since I left Angola. You’ve accompanied some of my ‘adventures’ there, but, when getting back I didn’t say much about it. “Why?”, you might wonder. Because I felt that loss as such a failure I couldn’t deal with it right away. I see now it wasn’t any kind of failure, quite the contrary. But it took me some time to realize it. It took me a while to understand how all that struggle made me a better person. How over time, I healed my wounds and feel now stronger (even wiser, maybe?) than ever before.
I’m not one to complain much. Never was. I’m the ‘suck it and let’s do this’ type. We all take validation from different things in life. I take it from being able to do things on my own. The why isn’t important, but I learned to live with it over the years. For me, being strong and independent while going after things that challenge me are things that make me more proud of myself. They come with downsides, but they are definitely a key part of who I am. I’m also a bit of a control freak. I like to be in charge of my life, so it bothers me tremendously when that does not happen. I feel trapped and impotent and kinda loose sight of myself. That’s what happened over time while I was in Angola, due to a set of reasons now irrelevant. I got stuck. And as I know my limits (and believe me, I’ve pushed them) I decided to leave and start over. So I came back, defeated. It was a Saturday. For a day and a half I cried in the dark in my room. On Monday, I stopped it and began again.