For reasons that I can’t exactly put my finger on (blatant lie), today was one of the lowest points during the trip, least since the hostel. It’s difficult to kick yourself into gear in this state, but I know the steps that I need to take to shake the funk.
I eat some good food, and write. I haven’t read in quite a while, so I grab the book I’ve been meaning to chip away at and set a pomodoro to read out in the sunlight. Afterwards, I eat, meditate, write some more, and head to the gym.
It’s Saturday night and I should probably go out. This is the absolute last thing I want to do and I come really close to calling it off. I was sitting on my bed, talking to people back home while playing games. I know that if I stay home, the depression will persist and I may even feel worse tomorrow for not taking action. F*ck it, motion creates emotion. Time to move.
I throw my shoes on, grab my passport, and other identification/currency and head out the door. The entire time I’m putting this together, there’s that nagging voice in the back of my head telling me: not bother doing it; that it’ll be more comfortable staying home; that I’m not feeling social, so it will be even more awkward when I start talking to people; that going out isn’t important. Good thing I’m also playing a song in my head and focusing on the little steps to get out of the house.
Does that Samurai look like he has Arthritis? I THINK NOT! |
At the bar and talk to the first person that I have something easy to say to: his crazy beard. “yo man, you’ve got a crazy beard,” he thanks me. I meet his friend, one was french and the other was Italian, I think. Starting to feel better, I bounce toward the washroom, stopping to mime a conversation with an Italian guy who can barely speak English. In the washroom, some guy says to me “How are you at it?” in an Irish accent. What? “never mind” he says, and leaves. Another Irish guy said that his accent sounded fake. Oh.
I go back out and strike up a conversation with a guy who is around my height and well dressed. He’s a cool guy. So is his friend, though he's a bit more sporadic and wild eyed. I can’t tell if he’s drunk or not, but he buys all three of us a shot and a cuba libre. Cheers! At this point, I’m hitting my stride and see both guys eyeing up a group of girls who are right next to us. One of the girls is a really tiny Japanese girl, who I later accused of being Korean. I reach out and tell her to come over to us. She does, only to be surrounded by 3 guys who are all 6’3”+. We all laugh, and I guess the nationalities of her group. One was a Canadian guy! English Canadian! Wow! I get his number. I strike up conversation with an Irish woman for a long while, mostly amusing myself with the ridiculous shit that is coming out from the top of my head. It was a great time.
Gator Raphael |
I call Steve to talk tell him about how the day had such a turnaround. We laugh and joke around for a couple hours, then I have to go to bed.
Recap on what steps I took to bring myself up:
-Good nutrition
-Exercise
-Learning
-Work
-Meditation
-Hijacking the body language
-Babystepping
-Precommitment
-Taking action / not being a bystander
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