My spring break

In March, for the first time ever, I didn’t want to go back to London. Of course, I used to be sad when I had to leave my ex in Budapest, but I also wanted to be home. This time it was different. It didn’t feel like going home. It became a familiar but strange place. It’s been tainted by the enormously huge price I had to pay to be there, and suddenly it wasn’t worth it.

The place that used to represent my freedom, the place I chose to call my home, became a prison. A punishment and constant reminder of my skewed values. I became a prisoner of my own decisions. The city is still the same, beautiful and welcoming, but somehow it lost its magic. More precisely, I lost its magic.

So here I am again, seemingly running away from my misery to spend the next two months in Hungary. But this time it’s different. I keep reflecting and asking the hard questions. Hoping that just as the isolation from my ex made me realise I lost who could have been “The One”, the isolation from London might allow me to rediscover what I truly miss and love about it, if anything. Good news though, London will still be there when I all figure it out.

It’s not just about London though. I’m excited to prove myself wrong about Hungary. To see if all that kept me from moving back might just be in my head, not even affecting my day-to-day life really. Coming into this experience with such expectations made me think I have nothing to lose. I either want to be back in London eventually or learn to love Hungary.

On my way to the airport, one thing hit me. A possibility I hadn’t considered. What if I can’t find my place in Budapest, nor can I find my truce with London? I used to love flying until it became an exhausting chore. So maybe it’s just the preflight blues or a PTSD from flights. Flying, in recent years, was the most emotionally draining experience. It made me sad, depressed, and alone. I either had to leave my home and nurturing environment behind, that I felt so dependent on, or I had to leave the person I loved the most, maybe for weeks or even months, not always knowing when I could hold her in my arms again. I think I associated all these negative emotions with flying.

Right now, I’m afraid to go but don’t want to stay either. It feels like just in a span of two months, I went from having two homes to none. Like an outcast, not by society, but my own emotions. This fear allows me to be brave, and frankly, I have really no other option than to find my place yet again in the world. And finding my place is truly just finding myself, because once I’m content, any place can be special. As Coach Bennett says:

“What you think makes it special is what makes it special to you.”

The best thing about gradually coming off of depression is to start having feelings again. Including hope for a fresh start. And while a starting line is never a guarantee for anything, Coach Bennett’s encouraging words are here to pick me up yet again:

“I don’t need a guarantee, I just need a chance.”

Thursday, 10 April 2025