What Am I Doing?
I spent most of last week in Portland, Oregon. It's a city I've been looking forward to seeing...and yet, I found myself hiding out in both my Airbnb rental and my hotel room. I lost all of my initiative. I was re-watching Murder, She Wrote and I found myself finding any excuse to just stay in and keep watching. A whole fascinating city available to me, and I only wanted to watch a 30+ year old show. Why?
Honestly, I'm not entirely sure. I think it was a combination of things: a regular hormonal dip that's been happening recently, gray and rainy weather, reaching the mid-way point on my journey, feeling overwhelmed by the amount of things to see and do. I'm sure I could add more if I kept thinking about it. So, there I was watching Angela Lansbury and feeling absolutely retched.
There is a part of me that feels like a terrible failure for not enjoying every single minute of this trip. There is another part that feels I'm wasting my time doing what I'm doing. The cowardly part of me wants a friend to give her some incentive to get up and go. I worry that I'll finish this year of travel and be no closer to knowing what I want, where I want to be, and who I am than I was when I started. Some of it just old-fashioned depression talking. Some of it, though, is genuine fear and anxiety. That's part of why I wanted to take this year: to work on my fear and anxiety. It's still here, of course, but it generally feels more manageable than it has the last few days.
I did enjoy some of Portland. I went to Powell's City of Books which was amazing and
enormous. I ate some Voodoo Donuts. I drove past the exterior building used for the Portlandia Women and Women First sketches. I drank some Stumptown Coffee. I feel like I did OK. And I enjoyed my time at the Jupiter Hotel. It was a fun place to stay. Even if I felt so miserable most of the time.
I'm still trucking along and I know this feeling will pass. Not every day is going to be fun...even on vacation. Next is Seattle and I've wanted to see Seattle since Eddie Vedder first growled about still being alive.